Dear Garrett..

Chapter 28

BIG TRIP
COPS and ROBBERS
DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS
MORE SEX EDUCATION?

I was called in to discuss a week-long prisoner transport trip. This was an “extra special” transport. In the transport briefing I was informed that I
would be flying to TEXAS to pick up two highly dangerous prisoners.

“Wow, Texas,” I thought. Being a young Aviator, I hadn’t flown a trip that far before. All of my flying experience to date had been in the state of California with the exception of one out of state trip to Reno, Nevada.

But this trip wasn’t big just because of the distance. This was a big trip for several reasons. First I was told that I would be picking up two exceptionally dangerous prisoners in TEXAS. It was explained to me that they had robbed a liquor store on East Lake Boulevard in Watsonville, California. When the police arrived, as the robbery was still in progress, the robbers shot up the police car.

The robbers got away after committing the hold up and headed east to evade capture. When they made it to near Houston, TEXAS, they managed to get themselves arrested. The Houston Police Department discovered that the two robbers had arrest warrants out for them in California, having left that state on bad terms.

I was further informed that the two robbers were brothers. The news about this trip kept getting worse the longer I was briefed. I was further informed that the robbers were too dangerous to be transported on an airline because the eldest brother was a “six time loser.” And furthermore, both prisoners had inactive tuberculosis. When the briefer mentioned the inactive tuberculosis, he said that I would have to wear a mask while the prisoners were on board the aircraft.

This trip was beginning to sound like I should be getting paid more than the $8.00 per hour compensation I was currently receiving. As more details were gradually disclosed to me, I started feeling like some Hazardous Duty Pay might be in order?

I was also informed that this would be the second attempt by Santa Cruz County to extradite these two prisoners out of TEXAS and back to California. It was explained to me that on the first extradition attempt, two police officers were sent out to bring the prisoners back to California but were unsuccessful due to a legal technicality. “On this trip you’ll be flying with a Deputy District Attorney to handle the legalities of the extradition and a police officer to guard the prisoners during the transport” the briefer
informed me.

I didn’t meet the Deputy DA and the police officer who would be making the transport with me until early morning the day of our departure from Watsonville. The Deputy DA showed up well dressed in a suit and tie. The police officer was dressed casually in jeans and a shirt for the trip to TEXAS.

I had the aircraft preflighted and ready to go when they arrived. I liked the aircraft we’d be flying on this trip. It was a new Piper PA 32-260 Cherokee Six. I had been flying this Piper Cherokee Six for the past few months and was comfortable handling it. It was the aircraft that I had been flying frequently on the Watsonville and Clearlake weekend shuttle runs with one of my employers and his family as well as the aforementioned cemetery employee. I also made occasional prisoner runs and other corporate trips
in the Cherokee Six from time to time.

The Deputy DA handled the introductions before we boarded the aircraft. “I’m Jay Starling and this is Barry Birdwell. You can call me Jay. Barry likes
to go by BB.” I introduced myself and told Jay and Barry it was nice to meet them. Jay was the polished and refined one of the two that would be flying the trip with me. Barry was your basic stout, strong police officer. Jay weighed 165 and Barry weighed 220. I weighed 150. As usual, I had no idea how much the prisoners weighed. I would worry about that later and make sure we’d keep the aircraft within its prescribed weight and balance limits with the five men we’d have on board our six-seat aircraft.

Following the brief introductions and customary passenger briefing, we boarded the aircraft and departed Watsonville for Houston. It would take us a while to reach Houston with a speed of 137 knots true airspeed in the Cherokee Six. After departing Watsonville we logged an hour of night flying before flying into a beautiful sunrise on our first leg of the trip. It took 4.5 flight hours to reach the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport in Arizona for our first fuel stop. Four hours later we landed at El Paso International Airport where we would encounter the first non-flying excitement of our trip.

Little did I know what all I was in for when I set out on this trip with two law enforcement officials. In my mind, this trip would strictly involve the serious
business of picking up two prisoners in TEXAS and returning them to California to pay for their crimes. What I didn’t know was the unofficial activities this trip would involve.

After landing at El Paso and checking into our hotel rooms, Jay and BB unexpectedly announced that we were going across the border to check out Juarez. So I was up well before daylight to get the aircraft preflighted, departed Watsonville an hour before daybreak, flew all day to reach TEXAS, and now the boys wanted to run around Juarez, Mexico for more
than half the night. Wow! “So much for my pilot crew rest following an already extra long day and another busy flying day tomorrow” I thought.

Like most young boys, I’d heard stories about some wild goings on in Mexico. It seems like my law enforcement escorts had more than just heard stories judging from the way they got us around once we crossed the border into Mexico. Actually getting around in Juarez was quite simple. All Jay and BB had to say when we climbed into our first Mexican taxi was, “Take us to where the girls are!”

When we crossed back over the border and made it to our hotel room after midnight my awareness of various sex related practices had definitely been
expanded. At one point during our time that evening in Juarez, BB disappeared for awhile upstairs in a bar at the invitation of an extra friendly girl leaving Jay and me sitting at the bar until he returned. For some reason, BB remained extra nervous for the remainder of our trip. Jay repeatedly asking BB “Is it burning yet?” seemed to add to his anxiety about whatever happened upstairs in the bar in Juarez.

We landed at the Houston Hobby Airport early afternoon the following day. At our hotel, I was able to get some rest while Jay and BB spent the afternoon at the Houston Police Department working on the prisoner extradition legalities. Unbeknownst to me, I would need that afternoon rest to prepare for what Jay and BB had in mind for our first evening in Houston.

A weather system had followed us into Houston. It would take two days for the weather system to clear before we could head back to California with our two prisoners. This weather system would become a contributing factor for me to experience more sex education under the guidance of my two law enforcement officials.

When Jay and BB returned to the hotel, they were ready for more sight- seeing. I didn’t know what sight-seeing they had in mind for us in Houston
but I was about to find out.

Leaving the hotel, we headed down Telephone Road. All the sightseeing we did over the next two days occurred along Telephone Road. What was sight-seeing for Jay and BB turned out to be more sex education for me! Telephone Road, in the 1960’s, had an abundant supply of establishments where boys could enjoy drinking beer while admiring the natural beauty of the opposite sex.

During our spare time in Houston, it became obvious to me that Jay and BB felt free to do away from home what would likely not be wise for them to do back home in Watsonville.

Especially nice during our sightseeing along Telephone Road was when the girls would come by and visit with us at our table following their on stage performances. They would visit us wearing nothing above the waist and very little below the waist. “Gosh, getting to see them up close like this is amazing!” I thought.

Jay would ask the girls good questions when they would come and stand at our table to visit with us for a while. “Where are you from and what are your goals in life?” Jay would ask. The girls seemed to speak comfortably with us thanks to Jay’s ability to know how to carry on a good conversation with young girls around my age. I enjoyed hearing what the girls had to say as well as getting to see them up close. BB seemed to be enjoying the conversations too, as well as seeing the girls, of course. The girls seemed to enjoy speaking with us.

While enjoying the beauty of the girls, it did occur to me to wonder what a girl’s father would think about males like us looking at his daughter without any clothes on. I couldn’t imagine that this would make any Dad happy.

Following two nights of more sex education on Telephone Road, the inclement weather lifted and we were able to head back to California with our two prisoners. After seeing and spending time visiting with the pretty girls, I was glad when it came time to head back to Watsonville. I was especially eager to get this prisoner transport mission successfully completed. Returning to Watsonville also meant I’d be extra ready to see Jennifer again!

Although we had a hard trip ahead of us, I was pleased to be flying again. I told Jay to let the Watsonville, California police department know that we would be landing there around midnight.

We departed Houston Hobby Airport with Jay seated up front with me. We seated the two prisoners in the center seats. BB sat in the aft seat section by himself where he could handle the prisoners if they needed handling.

The prisoners wore marked orange prison coveralls. BB secured their legs with leg chains. Around their waist was a thick heavy duty leather belt with
handcuffs on each side so their hands were cuffed to their sides instead of in front. Jay, BB and I wore face masks since we'd been briefed that the prisoners were both inactive tuberculosis carriers. “I hope it’s inactive” I thought off and on throughout the flight.

Three hours after departing Houston, we landed at Midland, Texas for our first fuel stop. After parking at the Midland fixed base operator (FBO), I ordered fuel for our next leg to El Paso. BB got the honors of helping the two prisoners use the restroom in the FBO while their hands remained cuffed to their sides.

For lunch, we walked across the ramp to the restaurant in the Midland passenger terminal. Jay and I walked in front with the two prisoners trailing
behind us and BB bringing up the rear as we made our way across the ramp, through the airline terminal and into the restaurant.

Seeing our procession making our way through the terminal had to be quite a sight for the airline passengers. Two prisoners in orange prisoner suits wearing handcuffs and leg chains being escorted by three guys wearing regular clothes? In the restaurant, Jay and I sat at a separate table while BB got to feed the prisoners at another table while their hands remained cuffed.

During this fuel stop and at all of our other fuel stops, BB would plead with Jay to release him from duty so he could take a bus back to Watsonville.

Jay simply shook his head smiling and told BB he could not take the bus home and that he was going to remain on board the aircraft with us for the entire transport.

BB wasn’t kidding with Jay. He was truly frightened of flying our return trip home but he managed to tough it out the entire trip. Jay, occasionally reminding BB of his indiscretion with the girl in Juarez, wasn’t helping BB calm his anxious state of mind.

We landed and refueled at El Paso and then departed for Tucson. We encountered a dust storm on this leg. Flying into the blinding sunlight and dust in the turbulent air mass made this leg of our flight very uncomfortable.

It was night when we landed at Tucson for our final fuel stop. We parked next to a white Learjet painted all over with pink polka dots. I wondered what’s up with the unusual paint scheme? When I walked into the FBO facility, I asked who the Learjet belonged to? The attendant answered, “That’s Al Hirt’s Learjet.” I thought, “Wow, Al Hirt, the famous trumpet player from New Orleans. That explains the paint scheme.”

Departing Tucson began the longest leg on our return trip to Watsonville. We were on track to reach Watsonville around midnight as I had originally calculated when we left Houston. Fuel availability on this leg of our trip would be more scarce due to the late night hours we’d be flying. I didn’t like how I’d have to stretch our fuel on our final leg. I instructed the Tucson FBO line crew to squeeze every drop of avgas possible into each of the four fuel cells.

Without any moonlight, the final leg of our flight to Watsonville was extra dark. I was concerned about the likelihood of making it to Watsonville non stop. It would depend on how we fared with the winds aloft at our flying altitude. The forecast winds had indicated it would be tight to make it non stop. But those were aloft winds which were only reported as forecast winds. The actual winds could either help us or hurt us which I would have to monitor along our leg to Watsonville to see if we could actually make it
there without another fuel stop.

Either way, I was pushing my luck to make it back home to Watsonville without having to stop again. Most, if not all, of the FBOs would be closed along our route of flight as we neared our midnight ETA at Watsonville.

Four hours into our final leg it was looking like we could make it to Watsonville though it would be tight. Having flown this particular aircraft on several previous flights gave me experience reading the four fuel gauges that I would be working with extra carefully to stretch this last leg of our trip like I was doing.

During this last hour, all four fuel gauges crept closer and closer to their empty readings. Jay seated up front next to me could see what our fuel situation was looking like. I had the panel lights dimmed low so BB couldn’t read the gauges from his position in the aft seats of the aircraft and seated behind the two prisoners.|

Still a ways out from Watsonville but with the airport coming into sight it was time to suck dry (completely drain) each of the four fuel tanks without letting the aircraft engine quit running in the process.

With all four tanks now showing only slightly above empty, I turned on the electric fuel pump and placed my right hand on the fuel selector lever below the throttle quadrant. With my hand on the fuel selector, I would focus my attention on the fuel pressure gauge while continuing to navigate to our destination airport and watching for the fuel pressure gauge to begin to fluctuate. When the fuel pressure gauge began to fluctuate, it was time to move the fuel selector to another fuel tank before the engine would cease running. Once I began this sequencing between fuel tanks, it would take about five minutes to squeeze every last drop of usable fuel out of each of
the four fuel tanks.

I followed this sequence completely draining the two aux fuel cells first. The engine only sputtered slightly when I switched the fuel selector from the left aux fuel tank to the right aux fuel tank. After completely running both aux fuel tanks dry with only the slightest engine sputter between switching tanks, BB became concerned.

With only two fuel cells remaining for me to completely exhaust of fuel, BB surprised me with what he did when I switched to the first of the two
remaining main fuel tanks. After hearing the engine begin to sputter between switching fuel tanks again, BB leaned forward in between the two prisoners and shined his flashlight on the aircraft instrument panel. Part of what surprised me is that BB knew precisely where to shine the flashlight! His flashlight beam went straight to the fuel quantity gauges. That in itself was impressive given all the instruments to choose from on an aircraft instrument panel and given that BB was not a pilot. BB swept the flashlight’s beam of light from left to right across all four fuel gauges. All four fuel gauges read empty. BB didn’t say a word. He just returned to his seating position in the rear of the aircraft and remained silent. What BB didn’t realize that I did realize was that I had a bit more fuel to squeeze out of the two remaining tanks that the fuel quantity indicators were not accurately accounting for.

As I began exhausting the remaining fuel from tank number three, I could see Monterey and Salinas off to my left and Watsonville dead ahead of me. Dead ahead? Not the best term to use now! I knew I was cutting this final leg way too close.

When tank number three ran dry, I switched to my fourth fuel tank, my last tank with any fuel remaining, very little remaining! Salinas and Monterey were no longer options for landing when I switched to my last tank with any fuel. The only airport we had remaining for the possibility of an “on airport landing” was now Watsonville. It was only Watsonville now, a “Make it or break it” situation. Now it would only take us a few minutes to find out if we were going to make a landing on the Watsonville runway.

Given our meager fuel status, I remained at altitude longer than normal before beginning my descent for landing. When I knew I could make it to Watsonville with or without power, I began my descent to the touchdown zone for runway 19. I reminded myself there would be no possibility of a go around. My descent now had to be perfect, neither too high nor too low for the low fuel situation I had allowed us to get into.

The descent and landing worked out perfectly. I breathed a sigh of relief that we were safe and sound on the ground at Watsonville. Jay and BB didn’t say anything but I could feel their relief too and sense of gratitude that we had completed our mission successfully.

We pulled up to the ramp at 15 minutes after midnight, not too far off the midnight ETA I had announced before departing Houston that morning.
Several police cars greeted us. Officers gathered around our aircraft as we prepared to deplane. The officers were armed with shotguns. Our two prisoners had shot up a police car while escaping from the Watsonville liquor robbery scene, so the officers greeting us weren’t taking the prisoners’ capture and return to Watsonville lightly.

The prisoners were promptly loaded into a police car and a procession of accompanying patrol cars departed the airport. After saying goodbye to
Jay and BB, I secured the aircraft and headed to Nate’s for a couple of beers with Freeman.

Enjoying our beers together, I briefed Freeman on the trip details emphasizing highlights of the trip. I also told him I wasn’t happy about how closely I had cut my fuel supply on the final leg of the transport.

After briefing Freeman on the week-long prisoner transport mission, it was time to see if Jennifer was okay. Jennifer was more than okay, always happy, eager and ready to see me.

Chapter 29 coming next…