I know that it only takes two people and about an hour to hang an engine. However, the significance of that event far outstretches the task performed. I have enjoyed every step of the journey constructing my 8A, better known as "Sweet Baby" (named after my wonderful wife, Elaine). There are certain milestones that should be recognized and celebrated. Giving Sweet Baby (the airplane, not the wife) her engine (coincidentally, I also named the engine: Constance, which is, of course, aspirational) is one of them.
Sweet Baby (the wife, not the airplane) did not really understand why I was going to have so many guys over and yet the only thing to be accomplished was the actual bolting of the engine to the mount. She was baffled that I was doing so much prep work when there were others showing up ready to help. It was hard to explain, but I told her that it was sort of like a bris (Jewish circumcision gathering) where just a little important work is done, then everyone celebrates and eats finger food.
So, I invited a dozen of my closest flying buds to an old fashioned hanging party. Not being a total idiot, I made sure to invite two of them, Jamie Painter and Jerry Fischer, who had actually done this before on their 7s. I sent everyone a copy of the Vans Airforce Article on Hanging Engines (an excellent reference, by the way) and everyone who was invited showed up.
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Although we had a lot of hands on deck, everyone participated. Jamie Painter in the maroon shirt and Jerry Fischer in the VAF hat led the charge, utilizing their experience. Everyone else pushed here, pulled there and fetched wrenches when necessary.
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Here, (L to R) Jamie, Frank Settle, me, John Morgan and Jerry fiddled and cajoled a bolt into the left upper mount.
Surprisingly, no cursing was needed, but one prayer was spoken, "Dear God, please don't let John Morgan f*** up my engine." By following the instructions in the VAF engine hanging article, we tightened the last nut down after what seemed about two hours. A great shout went up in the shop. During the Civil War, it would have been a Huzzah, but no one there really knew what that means, so we settled for a yee haw. Jim Anderson, my best bud, flying buddy and best man at my wedding, announced that the entire process had taken only 40 minutes.
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The usual suspects: Back Row L to R, John Slemp, Jerry Fischer, Jim Anderson, Mikela Hicks, John Morgan, Frank Settle, Dakota Neilson; Front Row L to R, Jamie Painter, me, Peter DiTomaso, Jordan Brown and Doug Wagner
As a fortunate coincidence, one of my dear friends just happens to be world renown aviation photographer John Slemp (museum exhibits, Air & Space Magazine, etc.). Unbidden, John memorialized our sacred event with his jillion dollar camera, although Sweet Baby clicked the group photo above. John did his share of tugging and wheedling the bolts in, but his photographic skills were a bit out of our league. It is sort of like having Michelangelo paint your bathroom.
After the triumphant achievement of aviation engineering, we all repaired to the house, where Sweet Baby (the wife) laid on a feast of BBQ chicken, all the fixins, sweet tea and key lime pie. To our amazement, she had also decorated the dining room with the most expensive table decoration I could ever imagine. God, I love that girl.
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As long as I live, and as much as I will fly in Sweet Baby (with Sweet Baby!) when construction is finished, I will never forget this day and the love, support and help I have received from my dear friends and family.
Sweet Baby (the wife, not the airplane) did not really understand why I was going to have so many guys over and yet the only thing to be accomplished was the actual bolting of the engine to the mount. She was baffled that I was doing so much prep work when there were others showing up ready to help. It was hard to explain, but I told her that it was sort of like a bris (Jewish circumcision gathering) where just a little important work is done, then everyone celebrates and eats finger food.
So, I invited a dozen of my closest flying buds to an old fashioned hanging party. Not being a total idiot, I made sure to invite two of them, Jamie Painter and Jerry Fischer, who had actually done this before on their 7s. I sent everyone a copy of the Vans Airforce Article on Hanging Engines (an excellent reference, by the way) and everyone who was invited showed up.
Although we had a lot of hands on deck, everyone participated. Jamie Painter in the maroon shirt and Jerry Fischer in the VAF hat led the charge, utilizing their experience. Everyone else pushed here, pulled there and fetched wrenches when necessary.
Here, (L to R) Jamie, Frank Settle, me, John Morgan and Jerry fiddled and cajoled a bolt into the left upper mount.
Surprisingly, no cursing was needed, but one prayer was spoken, "Dear God, please don't let John Morgan f*** up my engine." By following the instructions in the VAF engine hanging article, we tightened the last nut down after what seemed about two hours. A great shout went up in the shop. During the Civil War, it would have been a Huzzah, but no one there really knew what that means, so we settled for a yee haw. Jim Anderson, my best bud, flying buddy and best man at my wedding, announced that the entire process had taken only 40 minutes.
The usual suspects: Back Row L to R, John Slemp, Jerry Fischer, Jim Anderson, Mikela Hicks, John Morgan, Frank Settle, Dakota Neilson; Front Row L to R, Jamie Painter, me, Peter DiTomaso, Jordan Brown and Doug Wagner
As a fortunate coincidence, one of my dear friends just happens to be world renown aviation photographer John Slemp (museum exhibits, Air & Space Magazine, etc.). Unbidden, John memorialized our sacred event with his jillion dollar camera, although Sweet Baby clicked the group photo above. John did his share of tugging and wheedling the bolts in, but his photographic skills were a bit out of our league. It is sort of like having Michelangelo paint your bathroom.
After the triumphant achievement of aviation engineering, we all repaired to the house, where Sweet Baby (the wife) laid on a feast of BBQ chicken, all the fixins, sweet tea and key lime pie. To our amazement, she had also decorated the dining room with the most expensive table decoration I could ever imagine. God, I love that girl.
As long as I live, and as much as I will fly in Sweet Baby (with Sweet Baby!) when construction is finished, I will never forget this day and the love, support and help I have received from my dear friends and family.