Catania

The blog that follows, “CPR for DR: Breathing Life Back into Dead Reckoning,” is based on a talk I gave at AirVenture 2007, the annual week long meeting/convention/fly-in for EAA members (Experimental Aircraft Association) and the public, held every July at Wittman Regional Airport, Oshkosh, Wisconsin. From its origins as a get-together for home builders of aircraft, it has expanded to include nearly all forms of aviation including restoration, “war birds,” acrobatics, bush aircraft, and contemporary aircraft including the newest category, light sport aircraft (LSA), a recently FAA approved category designed to get more people into general aviation. Air shows are held every afternoon, and mass formations of aircraft “fly-bys” occur all day long. Crowds average 100,000 a day, with totals approaching 1,000,000 when pre-opening and post closing visitors and workers are included. Most people who stay more than a day camp, some under the wings of the aircraft they have flown in, others in RVs. So many aircraft arrive during this week that special air traffic control procedures have to be established, published in a 30 page booklet called a NOTAM, for Notice to Airmen. During AirVenture week the Oshkosh airport is the busiest airport in the world. Campgrounds run for miles in either direction. Parking lots for day visitors cover several fields directly on the airport grounds. The grounds are used for haying before and after the event. Farmers using the grounds follow strict rules on the timing of their mowing to insure that the fields are cut to the right height and greenness for the week, this not only for aesthetic reasons, but to minimize dust from too dry a field. To say that the EAA has the organization of “Oshkosh,” as it is commonly called, perfected is like saying that George Washington was an important figure in American history.

And it is staffed almost entirely by volunteers. From the parking attendants who stand out in the hot sun all day long directing traffic, to the instructors in the fabric clinics, where the intricacies of the Seine Knot can be learned (important in attaching fabric to fuselage and wing structures), everyone is a volunteer. Food and drink (no alcohol) are available all over the grounds, providing jobs for thousands of kids from the surrounding areas. The easiest job is trash collection: there isn’t any. Everything goes in barrels. Smoking is restricted, so there are no cigarette butts. One hundred thousand people a day, and the only insult that can be seen to the ground under your feet is mashed down grass.

It is usually hot, and often humid, in Oshkosh in July, and I found myself dying of thirst one afternoon after wandering around in 90 degree heat with a dew point approaching 70, so I headed for the nearest refreshment stand. “Lemonade, please, lots of ice.” The high school-aged girl who took my order could have been a poster child for the perfect Wisconsin child: blond, rosy cheeked, fit and wholesomely cheery. She had a name badge that said, “Catania.” Catania, I thought, that doesn’t fit. I have been to Catania, Sicily, many times. Catania is the nearest big city to Sigonella Naval Air Station, a place I had flown in and out of many times doing charters for my airline for the US Navy. How did this blond-haired, Nordic type get a Mediterranean name, I wondered? So I asked her. “Your name is Catania?” “Yes,” she said with a big smile. “So, are you Italian, or Italian-American?” “Oh no,” she said, “I’m Norwegian. But my parents worked on a cruise ship, and it stopped in Catania, and I guess they really liked it, and that’s my name!”

The lemonade was terrific.