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tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-312708912014-10-02T21:52:08.776-07:00MSGyroWe talk flying here - mostly gyro flying.msgyro.comhttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1165644029611884192006-12-08T19:54:00.000-08:002006-12-08T22:00:29.626-08:00My Wildest RideI have been a gyrocopter pilot for many years and always thought that gyro flying was the most exciting thing I've ever done, and it was, until I had a ride in a New York taxi. All else pales in comparison. Talk about exciting...the taxi ride was heart in the mouth, white knuckles,and prayer time all rolled into one.

I had been invited to attend a gyroplane conference at Hofstra University in New York. Because I had been flying gyros since the early days of the Bensen gyrocopter era, I was considered a gyro pioneer and as such I was asked,along with about 18 or so other old timer-gyro pilots,to attend the conference where we would be honored as pioneer gyro pilots. I was to attend the banquet Friday night where the awards were to be presented and the next morning I was scheduled to give a speech on my years of gyro flying.

I was accompanied on the trip by my daughter Donna and granddaughter Lynette. Our flight landed at JFK exactly one hour before the banquet was to begin...panic city! Here we were, our first time in New York, almost already late for the banquet and still 20 miles or so to our hotel near the University.

We scrambled about for a taxi...there were lots of them about, but there were more would-be customers than there were taxis . We found one, asked the driver if he knew where the town of Hempstead was. "Yes, yes", he said ,as he loaded our luggage and the three of us in the cab then after a discussion with another driver, he admitted to us that he did not know where our destination town was so, luggage and weary traverlers were put back onto the sidewalk and the search was on again for another taxi...the clock kept ticking away during all this and our time was running out.

Then another driver stepped up and vigorously answered ,"yes, yes", when we asked if he knew where Hempstead was. He loaded the three of us and our luggage into his taxi and we set off. OHMYGOSH!!!! He took off like the devil was after him. I live in Southern California where wild driving is the norm, but this was a whole new experience to me. Crazy driving is taken to a new level in New York. I knew it was going to be the longest 20 mile ride of my life and I began to wonder if we would survive it.

Mind you, it was rush hour and the traffic was bumper to bumper. When he approached a stop, the driver slam on the brakes and would stop maybe 1/4 inch from the car in front of him. Turns he took on two wheels, and the three of us in the back seat would slide as one to the other side of the car. There we would be packed together like sardines until he turned a corner in the opposite direction at which time we would slide across to the other side...meanwhile the clock was still ticking down.

We drove up one street and down another...he would get on the road again then take an off ramp, saying in his very limited English,"this the way". A few minutes later we would be back on the main road again and looking for another off-ramp. He called his dispatcher and got directions then we were off again on more side trips. Finally, my granddaughter Lynette, said to him, "You don't know where Hempstead is, do you". "No", he admitted. He was lost. Lynette had been questioning him along the way, asking if he knew where the heck he was going, etc. As he drove, the driver drove spent more time looking over his shoulder talking to us in the back seat than he did looking at the road.

Finally,Lynette said to him, " Give me your cell phone and the number of your dispatcher". He didn't quibble, but just handed them over. She called the number and told the dispatcher that we were wandering all over Long Island and she wanted correct directions to Hempstead and further more, she thought we should get a discount on the price quoted for the trip because we were being inconvenienced because of the driver not knowing where he was going. She got the right directions but no discount.

Thanks to my take-charge granddaughter getting the right directions, the driver finally found the town he was looking for and , would wonders never cease, he found our hotel. We untangled ourselves from the back seat, gathered up our luggage and then we rushed inside and got the key to the room , rushed upstairs and dropped off the luggage, rushed out to find a ride to the University , found a shuttle bus and finally ,all of us out of breath, we walked into the banquet room just as the guests were being seated.

That was definitely the most exciting ride of my life. As a memento of our wild ride, the girls gave me a refrigerator magnet with the image of a New York taxi.
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The gyroplane conference was organized by Dr. Bruce Charnov , who is a professor at Hofstra. The conference was in honor of the 78th. anniversary of the invention of the gyroplane. Bruce did a fine job of putting the event together and gathering so many early gyro pilots together.

Johnnie Miller, a gyro pilot of the Pitcairn and Kellet autogiro era was one of the attendees. At the time Johnnie was about 98 years of age. we met his daughter and she told us he had driven the two of them to the conference, a distance of 95 miles. That surprised me, but then his daughter said, " Hey, the man still flys" . I guess you just can't keep a good gyro pilot down.

I visisted with my gyro friend Teddy today and tomorrow evening I'm looking forward to having a BBQ dinner with him and new gyro pilots, Tina and Dave.

Till next time
Marion Springer
email@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1165477488879889382006-12-06T22:13:00.000-08:002006-12-06T23:44:48.890-08:00The Best Things in Life are FreeI have always heard that the best things in life are free and over the years I have seen or heard a number of things that fit that description. Here are a few things that touched me and left lasting memories.

A spider web in the outside corner of our house where one room met another. The spider web was perfect. It was large, measuring about 12 inches or more in diameter and it was well anchored to the wall of the house. It was an architectural marvel and when it was covered with early morning dew drops and the sun was shining on the sparkling drops, it's beauty was was breathtaking.

And more sparkling drops of water and sun...Early one morning I sat in my car warming the engine up and in front of me all the sagebrush in my yard was full of morning dew drops. The morning sun shining on the dew drops turned them to tiny sparkling , shimmering colors of the rainbow...a real light show of my own in my own front yard. Then one afternoon after a rain shower all the native Creosote bushes to the west and on up the hill were covered with rain drops. The sun shining on the water droplets made them look like tiny sparkling lights...awesome, and it was free for my viewing pleasure.

A sound...I loved to hear a Commanche airplane with it's gear down in the traffic pattern for landing. It made a most beautiful melodic whistling sound...pure music.

Outside in the yard of our office I would hold out my hand and Ultralight, a Starling bird we had rescued when it fell out of it's nest as a baby, would fly to me and land in my hand. To see it hover in the wind then touch down so gently in my waiting hand was a special thing.

A look...my Doberman Vokie had eyes only for me. He would spend much time just watching me. Docko would say that he could see pure love for me in Vokie's eyes. I could see it too.

Nature's beauty...In early spring, looking down from altitude when flying and seeing carpets of yellow mustard weed and then a little further on seeing carpets of purple Lupine flowers. So beautiful.

Wonderful scents...flying over the apple canneries in Sebastopol, Ca. and smelling the wonderful scent of apples being made into applesauce or apple jucie.

A feeling...of peace,contentment and pure joy when flying my gyrocopter.

Welcome sights...After being handed each one of my babies soon after it was born I would check it's fingers and toes and all parts of the tiny baby to see if everything was all right and feeling so happy when each baby was perfect. They are all grown up now and all are still perfect.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1165388461131939342006-12-05T21:21:00.000-08:002006-12-05T23:01:01.143-08:00My Little Red WagonWhen I was a kid back in the stone age, every family with children had a little red wagon. A little red wagon that said , ' Radio Flyer', on the side. Some of our toys, most in fact, we made ourselves, like a pair of stilts that worried our mom to death when we walked on them, or stick horses, or bean flippers...any kid worth a his salt could make a good bean flipper by cutting a sturdy Y shaped branch and tieing two rubber bands cut from an old inner tube and a small piece of leather onto the Y branch. Every boy carried a pocket knife and I did too, I still do, as a matter of fact.

Marbles, we all had a bag of marbles...they were store bought and a staple in the life of country kids, as was the little red wagon. There was even an old song titled,'Won't you ride in my little red wagon?'. The little red wagon had many uses beyond coasting down the hill in it. It was used to carry chopped wood and kindling from out back to the house. It was used to carry vegetables from the garden to the house, and to carry corn to from the field to the barn . It was a toy and then some .

When I was a young mother, my own children had a little red wagon. Many times I would walk to the grocery store nearby with baby Donna riding in the little red wagon and then walk back home with baby Donna and groceries in the little red wagon.

Now in my 'golden years', as they're called, I still have a little red wagon and use it almost daily for one thing or another. It is handy to carry the bags of trash out to the dumpster, or to carry the big bags of dog food or bird seed from the car to the house or to carry my sewing kit ( kit must weigh 15 lbs.) and drapery material from my home to Linda's home about 200 feet away. When the guys were digging the trench on Linda's place this summer the little red wangon was the water wagon. It was kept busy hauling ice , soda, water , gatorade and all that stuff to keep the guys going.

I find it much eaiser to use the little red wagon than a wheel barrow for carrying things, especially if what is being carried is heavy. Where the wheel barrow is akward to handle, the little red wagon just tools along on four wheels nice and level and with no hassle.

The saddist thing I've ever used the little red wagon for was to carry my beloved Doberman Vokie, when he was too weak to stand and slipped down to the ground, alive, but just barely. I couldn't carry him for he was heavy. I put a blanket in my little red wagon and somehow I managed to get Vokie into the wagon. I was able to take him into the house by taking the little red wagon up the wheel-chair ramp to the front porch. I knew that my old friends' time was growing short , and so I took him into the living room so the other animals could say good-bye to him which they all did. I covered him with his blanket and there he died a short while later still in the little red wagon. The next day the little red wagon was the vehicle that carried him to his final resting place in the back yard.

Yesterday in the daily newspaper I saw an advertisement for Advanced Hearing Systems in Victorville. The good folks at Advanced Hearing Systems have a friendly French poodle named Charlie. Charlie meets and greets customers in the office. He is a good will ambassador. The picture in the ad was of Charlie sitting in a little red wagon that said ' Radio Flyer' on the side. Yeah, the little red wagon has stood the test of time and is here to stay and I couldn't be without mine.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1165039230783155412006-12-01T20:37:00.000-08:002006-12-01T22:00:30.796-08:00Smart animals continuedAnimals are smart enough to seek help when they are injured or lost. Take the parakeet who flew several circles over head as I was sitting on the porch swing late one afternoon. He would cry out as he went past. After a few passes he landed in a bush near the porch. He sat there for an hour or so until I was ready to go into the house. I thought if I could catch him then I could keep him safe from hawks and owls. A colorful bird like the little green parakeet is a beacon to predators in the desert.

He sat there and let me try to reach him but my fingers barley brushed him, then he flew away. " Well", I thought , "thats the end of him . I'll never see him again". But I was wrong. Next morning he was in another bush in the yard. I asked my son to help me catch the bird and so with Dave on one side of the bush and me on the other the little green parakeet simply dropped to the ground at my feet and let me pick him up. We called him Johnnie and he lived with us for nearly three years then passed away.
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There were two foxes that lived in a burrow just on the other side of our fence. One of them turned up severely injured. Every day I would take them food and water. they would bravely sit beside their underground home until I was no more than 15 feet from them then they would dissapear down the chute until I went away.

We could see the injured one was having more and more difficulty getting around. Then one day he made his way into our yard and simply let Dave pick him up. It was late in the day so we put him in a cage intending to take him to a vet the next morning but he didn't last make it through the night. I think he wanted help but waited too long.
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And then there was our German Shepherd Gyro. For exercise I would walk and run around the runways on the airport at Tracy. Gyro needed exercise too but he really didn't want to run. If I didn't put him on a leash he would run with me for about 50 feet then he would just sit down and wait patiently for me to make the entire trip around the airport then as I made it back he would run out to greet me and act like he had run the distance himself. If I put a leash on him to make him go with me he would hang back putting drag on the leash . I would just tug on the leash and make him keep up and finally when he saw his little ruse wasn't working he would get with the program and run along side me .

One day we were loading the van for a weekend trip. I was carrying something out to the van when I looked back and there was Gyro carring an exercise mat that was rolled up like a sleeping bag and had a carry handle. He would carry the empty waste basket back to the office after it had been emptied and he would carry the mail from the mail box for me.

After we moved to the desert a white rabbit started showing up and I started putting food out for it. Soon it was waiting every morning for it's breakfast. I had no intention of taking it in but then it turned up needing medical attention. We took it to the doctor. He gave me some pills and said, " give him a tablet every three hours". I couldn't see trying to find him every three hours to give him his meds so we took him in. We called him Mikey. He would run loose in the house. Old Gyro just loved that rabbit. He would cradle the bunny rabbit between his paws and wash his face with his tongue. Docko made a cage for Mikey outside . One day I saw that Gyro had made a hole in the chicken wire of the cage and he was lying down inside the cage cuddling Mikey and giving him his daily tongue licking.

We had taken in a starving Doberman nmed Butch. He and Gyro were great friends . About three years later the doctor told us that it was time to let Butch go to his rest for there was nothing more the doctor could do for him.

I left Butch's collar and leash and his blanket in the van after his passing. Every time when Gyro was in the van he would pull Butch's things to him and tuck them in close to him. It was clear that he missed his friend and was grieving for him. He did that for a solid year. Feelings run deep in animals. They make great companions.

till next time
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1164754560228863062006-11-28T12:46:00.000-08:002006-11-28T14:56:00.250-08:00Birds and Animals are smarter than you might thinkI've never understood why they are called, ' dumb animals'. I think they're pretty darn smart. Take the female cat that was dumped at our office in Tracy years ago. She was a wild thing, wouldn't let me touch her, would spit and hiss at me every time I tried to reach out to her. She did accept the food I put out for her though. She stayed around the office through the winter then one day she brought out a litter of kittens. They appeared to be several weeks old.

Mama cat was a loving mother to her babies. She played with them,taught them to stalk, and to hunt and to climb trees. She seemed to enjoy them immensely. When they were a few months old she started to be mean to them. When a youngster would try to nuzzle her she would strike it. She made them all keep their distance from her. That went on for awhile until the young cats just gave up and ignored their mother. Apparently that was her goal for it turned out that she was pregnant again. She had taught her young to hunt and to survive on their own so when it came time for her to leave them they could make it on their own.

Sometime later I knew she had had another litter of kittens but didn't know where she had them hidden until one day I saw her with a baby in her mouth and bringing it toward the office. I went out to see what was going on-I could see the baby looked like it was injured. It was clear that something had gotten to her babies and had injured at least one of them.

Mama cat walked right up to me and laid her injured baby in my outstretched hand then she went back to the hangar and brought out another baby. One by one, she brought four kittens from the hangar and placed them in my waiting hands. The last one she brought out of the hangar was obviously not alive so she just walked on past me with the dead baby. I never knew where she took it or what she did with it, only that she knew it was beyond help. I looked after her four babies for a few days then mama cat took over motherly duties again and no, she still wouldn't let me touch her, but that didn't matter. I felt honored that she trusted me to help her with her babies when she needed help. Smart mama cat.
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One day at Tracy we heard a great calmmoring of sparrows on the roof of the office. I went out to see what the ruckus was about. There were what seemed like hundreds of sparrows on the roof and all were shrieking loudly. One sparrow was perched on the rain gutter over the door. Another sparrow which I took to be the mother bird was frantically flying between the bird on the rain gutter and her nest in the ivy alongside the door. Then I saw the reason for all the clammoring...there was a snake in the vines and he had found the bird nest.

The mother bird continued to fly to her mate on the rain gutter and implore him to do something. She would flutter in front of him crying all the while then she would fly back to the vines and scream some more at the snake. Her mate just sat there like he was cemented to the spot. The rest of the birds on the roof just gave moral support from a safe distance.

Docko took a garden rake and took the snake from the nest but from the lumps in his body it was obvious that he had had his dinner and the nest was empty.
Life can be tough for the wild creatures.
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I saw a program on PBS station that piqued my curosity. It was about a scientest who saw a lizard on a rock near the path he took every day on his way home from the lab. One day he put some food on the rock and the lizard ate it. Soon the lizard was waiting for him every day and before long it was accepting food from the man's fingers. That went on every day until winter came along and the lizard disappeared . Spring came and guess what-the lizard was back on the rock ready to begin another season of handouts.

There happened to be a gecko lizard ( I looked that name up in an animal book )that I would see often in our yard. He would walk with me but with a fence between us as I went from the house to the hangar in back. He seemed to be there all the time and seemed fearless so I decided to try to duplicate what the scientest did and feed the lizard. Sure enough, he would eat the small bits of weiners that I would put on the ground for him. It wasn't long before he was waiting for me and taking food from my fingers .

One day he was eating from my fingers and he suddenly ran through the fence and stopped just beyond the fence but close enough that I could still hand him the food through the fence. He had run because Vokie, my Doberman had walked up to stand beside me. The lizard was smart enough to know that he was safe on the other side of the fence so he just stood there with the fence between him and Vokie and waited patiently for each bite of weiner.

Winter came...the lizard disappeared but returned when spring time came around and we took up where we left off and I began feeding him again. It was neat to see that small wild creature waiting there patiently for his dinner and then taking it from my fingers.
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When the children were growing up we had a German Shepherd named Duke. Duke chased every bird that flew through our yard, no matter if it was 30 feet above the ground, he chased it. One day I saw a baby bird that had fallen from it's nest. It lay there fluttering on the ground. I ran toward the helpless baby hoping to beat Duke to it for he was running toward it too. Duke got there first. He picked the baby bird up in his mouth as I watched helplessly from 20 feet away expecting him to crunch it. But no, he held that tiny baby bird so tenderly in his mouth and brought it to me and gently placed it in my hand. Unbelievable!
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Later on we had Vokie, my very special Doberman. One day I was in the office and Vokie was just outside near the steps. I was on the phone with one of my adult children who at the time was taking a walk on the wild side of life and it was worrying the heck out of me. Unable to talk sense to my wayward one and being very frustrated I hung up the phone on my child. I couldn't hold back the tears and Vokie heard me crying. He came inside, put his forelegs up on my lap and nuzzled my face. He was comforting me. He stayed by my side until I was able to control the tears. Oh yeah, the wild child came back into the fold shortly afterwards.

I think animals are so great. They add much to my life in so many ways. There will be more animal stories in another blog/journal. Stay tuned.

Till later
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1163633580513719012006-11-15T14:26:00.001-08:002006-11-15T15:33:00.526-08:00msgyro.comhttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1163633580452577772006-11-15T14:26:00.000-08:002006-11-15T15:33:00.463-08:00msgyro.comhttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1163629489650338112006-11-15T14:17:00.000-08:002006-11-15T14:24:49.660-08:00msgyro.comhttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1162971631729783542006-11-07T22:00:00.000-08:002006-11-07T23:40:31.743-08:00Painting, Pigeons , Gyro friends and uncoorperating computersLinda and I finally reached the end of painting the inside of her doublewide mobile home...well, almost finished that is. There is still some misc. painting of small itmes to be done, but the big stuff, walls and ceilings are done, thank goodness...now we start on hanging drapes . Bit by bit she is making the mobile home, HER home. A good feeling, for sure.

 Out back there are six setting pigeon hens with two eggs per nest and a pair of baby pigeons about 5 days old in one nest. There have been times when for one reason or another I have been the caretaker of baby pigeons and it is astonishing how much more quickly they develop when the parent birds take care of them. Nature does it right!

 Several weeks ago I set the young pigeon with the damaged beak free. I was concerned that he might not be accepted by the other birds because his beak and forehead have an unusual shape but so far he is doing very well. his beak healed well and he can forage with the rest of the birds. He seeks me out whenever I'm outside. He doesn't allow me to pick him up but I know he remembers me. That's a good feeling.

 Hop Along, the one winged pigeon is hale and hardy. He is a miracle of survival spirit. It looks strange to see him flap his wings with a full size wing on the right side and a stub wing of about one inch on the left side. In the evening I cover one side of his cage to keep the table lamp from shining in his eyes so he just moves to the other side of his cage where he can continue to keep an eye on family activities and not miss anything. He has adapted well to his new life style.

 I've been hanging out with gyro pilots again, even took Linda along this time. Gyro buddies Bobby Bettis and Teddy Udala were up over the weekend...well, actually, Teddy is a resident of El Mirage now but he still spends four days a week working down the hill. Bobby came up for a few days and the two of them, as is their custom, barbequed their dinner and we were invited. Tina and Dave came up late Saturday. After dinner we all sat around a roaring campfire and talked gyros. It was all of 9:30 PM when Linda and I got back home! For and old desert gal that seldom ventures out from home in the evenings that was staying out late indeed. Good dinner, good company, what could be better?

 I bought a lap top computer last week and yesterday decided to get it up and running...like I know anything about getting new computers up and running! All went well for awhile then we ran into problems...by now Linda had taken over as I had run out of ideas and patience. She was making no progress at all so she said , "let's turn on the desk top computer and maybe somehow that will help us". Wouldn't you know, the desk top computer refused to go online for the first time ever.

 All day she tried...nothing happened with either computer, both refused to go online. Finally Linda suggested that it must be phone line problems. I pooh pooed the idea. It was us, had to be. Phone line problems? naw, Linda, you're reaching! The telephone was working just fine. Big computer had worked fine earlier in the day. Finally, in desperation, she called the telephone company to see if they knew why the dial-up phone number wasn't connectig. Linda was right after all, it was the phone line. It turned out to be old Murphy at work...the phone company said there was a fire down the hill and the phone line had been damaged and that was the reason the computers were not responding. At least it wasn't something we had done to mess up the works.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
email@example.com://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1162265395372961692006-10-30T18:15:00.000-08:002006-10-30T19:29:55.386-08:00Memories of this and thatDid you know that when you are flying it is sometimes easier to spot another airplane in the air by first spotting it's shadow on the ground? I guess it's because it really catches your eye to see a shadow moving across the terrain below. So, once the moving shadow is spotted , the vigilant pilot will look about until he locates the other aircraft. An airplane three or four miles away looks to be only about an inch long when you see it from the air and so are not really easy to spot.

The shadows of gyros with their spinning rotors look like spiders in a hurry when you see them moving across the ground. Another neat thing to see when flying a gyro is a circle or what looks like a halo around the shadow of the gyro as it moves across the countryside. I suppose it has to do with moisture in the air and the sun shining through it. I've never seen the circle or halo effect when flying airplanes but have seen it a number of times while flying my gyro.

Speaking of rainbows, once long ago my daughter Linda and I were flying our Champ after early morning rain showers. Linda spotted a beautiful rainbow and wanted to fly to the end of it which appeared to be fairly close. We flew toward it only to find it was not where it had appeared to be but was still some distance away. We never did catch up with it but chasing the rainbow made wonderful memories for us both.

Once when taking an old friend for a flight in our Champ, I glanced over and saw that he was holding onto the door handle. It was his first time in a small airplane and I thought he might be nervous and that was why he had hold of the door handle. I landed shortly afterwards and I asked him about him holding onto the door handle...his explanation was simplicity itself-he said that he was holding the door closed. The door had a tendency to come open in flight but the slip stream would only let it open to a few inches. I was used to it and had forgotten to mention it to Bert, so when the door popped open he just held it closed. He wasn't scared at all...so he said.

There was a man who started hanging out at the local airport where we based our airplane. He was there even in coldest weather, sitting out on a bench looking at the aircraft or walking among the parked aircraft, talking to the airplanes and blessing them. He kept to himself or maybe others just kept their distance from him because of his strange ways. I know I did. One day as Docko and I were preflighting our Champ the fellow came over and asked to be taken for a flight. We told him no. We were headed on a trip. I wouldn't have taken him aloft anyway because of his strange ways. But one pilot did.

Les was a flight instructor on the field and he was big as a house. You wouldn't think anything could scare him . Les consented to take the man for a ride in a Cessna 150. Off they went...when they got to altitude Les reported later the man started talking crazy. Said he wanted to kill everybody. Said he was going to, in fact. Spooked Les out for sure. He wasted no time in putting the strange passenger on the ground! Eventually the strange man quit coming to the airport and I think all the pilots felt a sense of relief that he was gone.

Ah, memories...aint they great?

Lately I've been helping daughter Linda paint the inside of her doublewide mobile home. She came home from town today and said, "Mom, I've got something for you!", as she held up two more gallons of paint and new brushes. OH THANK YOU LINDA ! I'm beginning to wish she had bought a tiny little trailer...just kidding. She has a most spacious and beautiful mobile home and I'm happy to be helping her.

Daughter Donna will be with us for Thanksgiving...I'm a happy mama about that. And son Dave, he is undoubtedly one of the safest drivers on the road , ever watchful as to the other drivers. Yesterday a young man made an illegal turn from the outside lane, cut across in front of Dave who was in the inside lane. The young man was headed for the left turn lane but it was blocked by a vehicle so he just stopped in the lane right in front of Dave. Unable to avoid him, Dave clipped his rear bumper. Dave has got his pickup going again but it turns out the other driver is avoiding calls from the insurance company...He was at fault and it looks like he is dodging facing the music. Fortunately he admitted to the CHP that it was his fault and also someone stepped forward and gave Dave his card, saying he had seen it all and would testify for Dave.

And me, You would think I have enough trouble trying to figure out the desk top computer that I have but I went and bought a lap top a few days ago...I have visions of sitting up in bed warm and cozy, in those wee hours when I can't sleep and writing the new gyro book on the lap top...wish me well trying to learn to handle it!

Till next time.
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1162103934166040792006-10-28T21:58:00.000-07:002006-10-28T23:38:54.180-07:00Airplane pilots, gyro pilots and reckless flyingToday I got to thinking about flying airplanes and flying gyrocopters and the difference in the pilots of the two types of aircraft. Airplane pilots are usually more disciplined in their flying and I think one reason for that is because the fixed wing pilots have had formal flight instruction and the majority of them are licensed pilots, whereas most gyro pilots will get a very minimum of instruction and will fly or attempt to fly his gyro with very little knowledge of the machine other than how to get it off the ground and back on.

That type of pilot never bothers to learn aerodynamics or any of the subjects he would learn in a formal flight instruction program and in ground school. That pilot is one who is dangerous to himself and to others as well. It's amazing that the macho low time gyro pilot will hot-dog and show off in his gyro before he really learns to fly the machine.

One of the very important things I learned about in ground school way back when I took airplane flight instrucrion was wake turbulence. It's invisible and it can be deadly to the pilot in a small aircraft who unknowingly flys into it. Simply put, wake turblence is air that is moving in a horizontal whirlwind like manner from each wing tip of an airplane that is flying and generating lift. Wake turbulence hangs in the air behind the generating aircraft and then slowly begins to dissipate. Should a small aircraft fly into the wake turbulence it can literally be destroyed, torn apart ,by the turbulence.

On my first solo in an airplane , when I turned onto the downwind leg of the traffic pattern I saw a DC3 in the pattern in front of me. I left the pattern and flew a gigiantic 360 then after the DC3 landed I re-entered the pattern and went in for a safe landing. Leaving the pattern for a few minutes allowed the the DC3 time to land and then time for his wake turbulence to clear the runway . I survived that first trip around the pattern alone because in ground school I had learned about wake turbulence.

Some time later Docko and I were on a cross country trip in our airplane. The air was very calm, not a ripple. Suddenly we began to be bounced about severely. It was all I could do to keep the airplane right side up and I was wondering what the heck was going on then I spotted them...about five miles away were three Military C119 cargo planes flying three abreast. They were just small dots in the distance but their wake turbulence was still in the air and we had cut directly across it. When I saw the cargo planes then I understood instantly that our sudden rough ride was due to the turbulence they had created minutes before. Again, thanks to formal flight instruction and to ground school. The wake turbulence had had a few minutes to begin to dissipate before we flew into it ,still it was a rough and bouncy ride for a few minutes . When we had transited the area of the turbulence the air once again became smooth as could be.

How many low time gyro pilots who have had very little flight instruction and no ground school at all know about wake turbulence, or CAT, clear air turbulence ,or wind shear or lift vectors, or any of the myriad invisible things that go on in the realm of flight but cannot be seen by the pilot, but can ruin his day? How many take the time to learn all they can about flying and really understanding their gyros? Granted, some do , but there are others who prefer to do hotdog flying and endanger themselves and others. After more than 40 years of gyro flying and flight instructing, the closest I ever came to being killed while around gyros was by a low time hotdogging pilot who was showing off. His rotor blades missed us by no more than 4 feet!

Till next time
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1162097538630531292006-10-28T21:41:00.000-07:002006-10-28T21:57:01.186-07:00More on the blog/journal, A long time agoA few days ago I wrote about dip net fishing on the Colombia river in Oregon but I didn't mention the name of the place where the fishing took place . It was called Celilo Falls, The falls were a few miles from The Dalles, Oregon. The falls no longer exist because of The Dalles dam which was constructed a few years after Docko and I spent a summer at Celilo Falls.

To read about Celilo Falls and the dip net fishing do a google search using the words, Celilo Falls, Oregon. There are a number of sites that tell the history of that wonderous place. Also there are sites with historical photos of the men dip net fishing . Check it out.

Marion Springermsgyro.comhttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1161591981559591052006-10-22T23:13:00.000-07:002006-10-23T01:26:21.616-07:00A long time agoA long time ago when we were young and it was just the two of us, Docko and I were traveling through Oregon. We found a beautiful spot along the Deschutes river where we spent a few days camping and swimming and just enjoying being young and carefree . Then one day a few miles down the way we came upon a place called The Dalles, on the Columbia river.

The salmon were running, that is, they were jumpimg over the falls and swimming upstream to their home waters to spawn. On the banks of the Columbia, many Indian men had built wooden scaffolds out over the water and were standing on those rickety looking scaffolds with a rope tied around their waists and anchored to something sturdy on the bank and they were fishing with dip nets. A most unusual sight to my young eyes!

The dip nets were large,the hoops something like 12 feet or more in diameter and fastened to 20 foot long poles. The salmon would leap over the huge boulders in the river on their way upstream and the fishermen would scoop them up in their nets. Big fish, some weighing 40 lbs.or more.

We wandered about fascinated with all the activity. we came across a man Docko had gone to college with. The two got to talking and his friend told us that during the spawning season salmon fishing is closed to everyone except American Indian people. The Indian people used the fish for food for the winter. They smoked some of the salmon and dried some of it.

They built small fires and cooked chunks of fish and eel over the open flame and sold it to the tourists who were always present to watch the activities. The tourists expected the Indian people to be like those in the cowboy and Indian movies, you know, not able to speak English and so on. I remember one elderly Indian man who spoke English very well...he taught me how to make the knots for the netting. But when the tourists asked him questions he pretended not to know the language.

As Docko was of Shoshone Indian descent he was eligible to fish with the others, so he decided to do just that. He had and old Indian man make him a net then he bought a big hoop and a long pole and made himself a dip net. Another trip to town and we came back with lumber to build a scaffold out over the rushing water. More lumber was purchased to make side walls and a floor for the tent we put up for the two of us to live in. For a tent, it was luxurious! wood floor and screen on the walls to keep the bugs out. Real uptown!

That man of mine was in puppy heaven fishing all day , lifting those heavy fish out of the water while I watched from the solid ground and hoped he wouldn't get pulled into the water and be dashed against those huge boulders .

Docko learned of another spot where the fishing was said to be good. The only thing was, it was about half way across the wide Columbia river and to get there you had to walk about a half mile or more across a railroad trestle that was 75 feet above the raging waters of the river.

I went where my guy went although I didn't really enjoy the trip across the trestle. You had to watch where you placed your feet so you could step on the railroad ties and that meant that you had to see the water crashing against the huge boulders way down below. Not a pretty sight to me! It seemed to take ages to get to the place where there was a rope ladder that led down to the boulders below.

The rope ladder was attached at the top and the rest of the ladder swung freely. It had metal rungs that were wet and slippery. Getting up and down that ladder wasn't easy. Making it across the trestle and down the ladder was challenge enough for me. After fishing there for a while Docko decided that fishing was just as good and much safer where he had first started so we gave up the trips across the railroad trestle and went back to the scaffold out over the river where he had first fished. I was happy about that. I was always worried that a train would come along while we were on the trestle. Happily, none did. We spent the entire summer there, fishing as our grandfathers had done for ages. That summer that gave us wonderful lifelong memories.

Looking at those trips across the river high up on the train trestle from this point in time I wonder if I would have the intestinal fortitude to do it today. Probably not. But the young think they're bulletproof .

I spent a little time visiting with gyro buddy Teddy this weekend and tomorrow Linda and John Delaney are coming to visit. Life is good.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
email@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1161413671348776472006-10-20T22:14:00.000-07:002006-10-20T23:54:31.363-07:00Remembering Halloweens from the pastMy daughter Linda and I were talking tonight about Halloweens from the years when the children were growing up. Halloween was a big event in their lives. For weeks they would plan what they wanted to be on the big night when they would go out trick or treating.

In those days I made their costumes. One time I made ghost costumes for all four of them. They were virtually stair steps of four little ghosts with baby Donna the littlest one. She was only three years old. Of course I thought they were all darling and Donna was such a tiny little thing and she needed to be carried most of the time during trick or treating. I would take them around the neighborhood and they would collect candy then at home later I would take their night's bounty and dole it out to them a bit at a time lest they all end up with upset stomachs from all that sweet stuff.

Ah yes, a fun time for them and a busy time for me. My daughter Coby loved Halloween . She always made a big to-do for the neighborhood children even after her own daughter had grown up and was out on her own. Coby would stock up on candy and she delighted in having kids come to her home for trick or treat. She and Donna always carved pumpkins and really got into the spirit of the day. This will be the first Halloween for Donna without Coby for we lost her earlier this year. We all miss her and my heart will break for Donna when she has to get through this sad Halloween alone.

Linda was so far ahead of her time when years ago she wanted to write a book on how to carve a pumpkin. There were no such books on the market at the time and her idea would have found a ready market but sometimes good ideas, for one reason or another just never make it into production. And so it was with her good book idea. Today there are books galore on pumpkin carving !

Linda had another good idea way back even before the one on pumpkin carving books...She was still in elementary school when baseball cards were new and kids began trading them. She kept saying that baseball cards would be valuable in time and they should collect and keep the cards. Another good idea not acted on and look at the big business such cards are today. I tell you Docko and I did raise some smart children.

Later in life when our children were long gone from the nest Docko and I moved to a fairly remote place in the high desert. There were no families with children in the vicinity. But every year as Halloween drew near Docko would remind me to buy plenty of candy for trick or treaters. I would say, " but Docko, you know we never get kids at Halloween. There are just none around here". He knew that but it was a slick way of getting candy that he liked...he would say , " Be sure to buy the kind of candy we like, you know, the little chocolate bars ,just in case no one shows up". So I would stock up on his favorite candy and of course, the two of us would have bags and bags of little chocolate bars to eat because no one showed up for trick or treat.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
email@example.com://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1161407616346201992006-10-20T22:11:00.000-07:002006-10-20T22:13:36.356-07:00Halloweens from the pastmsgyro.comhttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1160797155551089682006-10-13T19:06:00.000-07:002006-10-13T20:39:15.563-07:00Flying ...it's always on my mindBack when I was flying, both airplanes and gyros, my favorite time for flying was late in the day , evening time really ,but before dark. Most pilots prefer early morning for flying for many reasons. One of them being the air is usually still in the early hours. But for me, a flight after the day was done just made everything all right and recharged my batteries. No matter what kind of day I had had, all was refreshed and better after a flight, even a brief flight. Flying as therapy, I guess!

But there was one gyro flight that I made in late in the day that had me a little uptight when it came to the landing. It was during the filming of a movie that I was flying my gyro in. The scene called for me to fly over a drive-in movie theater . The director asked me to take off very late in the day and fly to the filming site which I did. I proceded to circle the theater while the crew filmed the gyro from the ground.

It seemed to take them a long time to finish filming and to finally signal me that I was free to fly back to our staging area which was several miles distant. Oh Boy! by then it was almost dark and that meant the landing would be a challenge because the runway was not lighted nor did the gyro have a landing light.

I had asked before I left that they endeavor to keep the runway clear for my return because there was no one else flying that day and I knew it would be near dark when I returned. " Sure, no problem , we will do that ", they said. But when I arrived back at the strip there were several pilots taxing their fixed wing ultralight aircraft around on the runway. The pilots seemed totally oblivious to the fact that they were occupying the space where I needed to land . By the time it got through to them that I urgently needed to land and they had cleared the strip it was nearly full dark.

OK gal, I said to myself, you have got yourself a problem here. You will be darn lucky to find the ground , it's so dark. But I couldn't stay up there all night, so I had to put the flight on the ground and soon!

On final approach I could see where the lighter color of the sky met the darker color of the ground. I knew that the grass alongside the runway was about three feet tall. So when I descended to the point where it was all dark I knew I had to be about 3 feet above the runway.

I leveled the gyro, and pulled the throttle back to idle and just let the gyro gently descend in a level attitude. It did feel good when the wheels touched down and I knew I was firmly and safely on the ground . By then it was really pitch dark . I could have kissed the ground I was so happy to have put the gyro on the ground when I couldn't even see the ground. But I was a super-duper gyro pilot and I was getting paid big money to fly for the movie so I restrained myself and didn't kiss the ground! You can be sure that I didn't let myself get in a bind like that again.

That little adrenalin rush from the night time landing didn't make me dislike flying during the late evening peaceful time of day but I never cut it that close again.

There is something so wonderful and serene late in the day during that time after dinner and before full dark when the sky is a dark blue and the world is quiet. It's a time to reflect and rejoice that all is well in my world and I am thankful for it all.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1160544333462582992006-10-10T21:21:00.000-07:002006-10-10T22:25:33.476-07:00Smart juvenile pigeon . The great outdoors is not for him!One of the two young pigeons that I set free yesterday is back in a cage in the house today. I mentioned before that some of them have a problem adjusting to the outside and this one did. The other pigeon that was released at the same time took to his freedom immediately. but this one, the one with the damaged beak was very scared and timid. He did leave the outside cage today but it was obvious that he was not comfortable. He relaxed when I picked him up to bring him back into the house.

His timidness would make him vulnerable to predators so I brought him back into the house and tonight he is one happy juvenile pigeon in his newly cleaned cage. It's my guess that he remembers that he was almost pecked to death in an outside cage like the one he was in today, Old memories die hard. Maybe in a week or so we will see if he is ready to face the great outdoors again . Then again, maybe he's no dummy... he is back inside where it's warm and safe and food is plentiful. He might never want to leave!

And Hop-Along just amazes me. He is playing with a string of plastic balls ( a toy for parakeets ) that is hanging in his cage. Maybe he is just bored! That ungrateful bird, he pecks my hand every time I reach into his cage to replinish his food and water. I guess if he wasn't tough he wouldn't have survieved the vicious attack that left him with one wing. It's amazing that he survived...when he was brought in, besides his broken wing dragging the ground, he had a chunk missing from the back of his head and his crop was torn open .

We could see seeds that he had eaten through the gaping wound in his chest. I thought his food and water would just go in his mouth and right on out through his chest. Taking him to a doctor was financially out of the question so we just decided to do what we could for him and if he made it , great, if not, then it wasn't meant to be. The hole in his chest healed as did the one on the back of his head. He even looks fine now. I'm glad he survived. It says what a fighter he is!

Tomorrow is the day that Linda will be home. Smart kid, summer is over and the weather is much more user-friendly now. She missed those three digit summer days we had this summer. It does take awhile to get climatized to desert summers. I will be happy to have her home.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1160428076245765362006-10-09T13:20:00.000-07:002006-10-09T14:07:56.256-07:00A new Week and Linda is coming home Wednesday!Today is a good day. I had a most enjoyable weekend with good gyro friends and today we start a new week. The high point of this week is that my daughter Linda,will be coming home on Wednesday. It will be good to have her home .

Early this morning I set two young pigeons free. They are called juveniles at their age which is about 2 1/2 to 3 months. The first one is a chick from a found egg that Coo hatched and raised to this age. The other one is a young bird I brought into the house when he was a baby . I found it bleeding from an attack from a setting hen. She had pecked holes in his head and in his beak.

He had all kinds of problems with his beak before it finalled healed. I wasn't sure it ever would and I was worried about him. He should be OK if the other birds don't pick on him because his beak looks different from the other birds.

It's probably as traumatic for me as it is for the young birds when I set them free. I start by placing them in one of the big cages in the yard. I leave the cage door open so they can go out or not as they choose. Usually they will stay in the cage all day for the first day. At nigh I close the cage door to keep night time predators out.

It doesn't take long before the newly freed birds are accepted by the other birds and are mixing in with them. There was one young bird awhile back that didn't adjust to his freedom at first. He would seek me out and sit near me when I was outside. He did that for several days so finally I brought him back inside for a week then re-released him. That time he adjusted well to being free and paid me no never mind when I was outside.

And there is Hop-Along. He is one strong bird. It's interesting to see him flap his good wing and the one inch or so stub of his missing wing. All his terrible looking injuries have healed and he seems content to be inside and cared for. He is a survivor!

Ok, time for me to get back to work on sculpting a White Buffalo Woman doll for Britta.

Til next time
Marion Springer
email@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1160346850921100062006-10-08T14:41:00.000-07:002006-10-08T15:34:10.933-07:00One Happy Woman !If there ever was a happy woman, it was Tina Tyler yesterday morning, Saturday, Oct, 7, 2006 when she soloed her Vortex gyro. I had been coaching her for a couple weekends in crow hops and the basics of properly getting a gyro into the air.

On Saturday morning early she made several 'balancing on the mains' taxi runs then with Dave, Teddy and me pacing along side her in a SUV she added just a bit more power and the gyro lifted off very beautifully . The take off was picture perfect. She came off in a level attitude, flew very solid and stable for about 150 feet at about 3 feet off the deck.

She then reduced power to idle and made a perfect landing. Then she yelled loud in absolute joy! And Teddy...sitting there with camera at the ready to catch the first lift-off, completely forgot the camera and just sat there open mouthed and watched the solo. So we have no pictures of the first take-off. Guess we will just have to see if she will do it again, and get a photo next time.

Tina wasn't the only one who was happy that day. Teddy, Dave and I shared her joy. She had to leave early to get back home and to work but that didn't stop the three of us from celebrating her accomplishment with a good dinner, barbequed by Teddy. Then we re-lived the morning over and over in conversation. The solo will live in Tina's memory forever and it will be a wonderful memory for her three side-kicks as well.

I tell you, I hang out with some pretty good people. we all speak the same language and that is gyros, of course .

Till next time
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1160204103091865612006-10-06T22:36:00.000-07:002006-10-06T23:55:03.106-07:00Summer is overLast week it was summer and now it isn't. It seems like we have only two seasons here in the high desert, summer and winter. It's either hot or it's cold, no in between weather where the days are just shirt sleeve pleasant.

I was pretty well climatized to hot weather before moving here because Docko and I spent 20 years in Tracy, Ca. and summers there are very hot. The big difference between Tracy's hot summer days and hot desert days is that in the desert it does cool down at night where in Tracy, if it's 108 degrees in the daytime it's 108 degrees at night.

But there are many wonderful things about desert living and one gets used to summer heat.

The El Mirage dry lake bed is one of the wonderful attractions of the high desert. Located about midway between Palmdale on the west and Victorville on the east, it really sits out in the middle of nowhere. I heard a woman who was here on her first visit tell a joke...I can't remember anything about the joke except that whatever happened took place at the end of the earth...the woman interrupted her story at that point and said, " I don't know why they didn't just take it to El Mirage". So I guess to her El Mirage is the end of the earth.

One time a pick-up with two men in it who were lost stopped at my home. They had come from Nevada to visit someone who lived even father out than we do. they had driven many miles over rough dirt roads and didn't have any idea where they were. the driver asked me, " How do we get out of here ?". I asked him where he wanted to go. " To civilization !", he answered.

Tomorrow morning bright and early I will be out on the lake bed again coaching Tina as she learns all about her Vortex gyro. She is taxiing and ground handling her gyro very well. Now we want to get her to the point of balancing on the main wheels for long distances at a time. When she can do that she will be ready to lift her gyro off the ground . She has been able to balance very briefly for short distances . A little more practice and she will be ready to lift off. So, I'm hoping for a beautiful calm, no wind day tomorrow , at least in the morning.

Patience and self discipline are prime requirements in gyro learning and flying. Several years ago I had a call from a man who had a new Air Command gyro. He inquired about flight training and wanted to know generally what our flight training consisted of. I explained our training and that it starts with learning the various steps of the take-off. It's like building a house, you must start with a solid foundation or the house won't be well-built or safe. The man indicated that our method of instructing was just what he needed.

He said he had had two hours of instruction from one instructor and two hours from another instructor and both of them took him to altitude immediately and began the air work, you know, climbs, descents, turns, etc. He said he would call me in two weeks to make an appointment with us for the complete flight training program...I didn't hear from again. Then one day a few weeks later someone came in from the lake and said a gyro had crashed. we went out to see if we could help but the pilot was dead. It was the man who had said he wanted to come for training. I guess he had second thoughts about it and decided to try it on his own with only fours total of flight instruction . It took him about one minute to destroy a beautiful gyro and to eliminate himself. In the gyro impatience is a fast way to self-destruction.

Today I went down the road to visit with my gyro buddy Teddy. It was too cold and windy to sit on the porch and visit so we took shelter from the weather and visited in his motor home. He is getting closer and closer to being a full time resident and neighbor for today he put up his house number on his fence and tomorrow his mail box goes up. Looks like he is here to stay.

Till next time
Marion Springer
email@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1159824479531985942006-10-02T13:01:00.000-07:002006-10-02T14:27:59.543-07:00Tina's working diligently on crow hops.We almost got rained on yesterday...did in fact get about two minutes of sprinkles. The sky was dark and cloudy all day and it looked like rain and smelled like rain and then just a sprinkle or two. It was enough water to settle the dust on the dry lake, however. The So. Ca. Timing Association had their time trials on the lake just a week or so before the gyro fly-in. The racers leave the lake surface covered with fine talcum-like dust and when the wind blows it's like grey fog everywhere. So the tiny bit of rain helped to pack the dust and the lake was absolutely beautiful this morning. It was shiny and smooth and would have made a perfect roller skating rink.

I was out on the lake again this morning coaching Tina in crow hops . She was in her Vortex gyro. We quit when the wind came up. Yesterday we put in several hours with her taxieng and getting the feel of balancing on the main wheels. All the while her guy Dave, drove the pick-up alongside as she made runs down the lake and I sat on the passenger side of the truck giving her hand signals and generally trying to help her... Oh my kingdom for a two place powered trainer!

I feel that if I could ride beside her for awhile and walk her through every step of the crow hop process it would be so much easier for her to do it on her own. But we will persevere and before long she will be flying .

Most new gyro pilots have a difficult time with self-restraint...they generally want to surge ahead and get up there in the air before they are ready. I'm happy to say that Tina is staying with the program and not rushing. We don't set goals, such as, " Today I will fly this machine ". Rather, we say , " today we will practice this particular step and when it becomes easy to do, then we will go on to the next step". It's the only practical way of getting there without bending something.

The stage of learning where Tina is is very difficult, but only for the first few hours. Everytime she goes out again on her gyro she relaxes a little more, learns a little more and begins to notice slight wind changes , even relaxes enough to look around a bit and gets a better feel of her gyro . And really , all those things are hard for the beginner to do when out on a powerful gyro all alone. So, we take baby steps and in time Tina will get to the point of lifting off the ground and flying her gyro. I look forward to clipping her shirt tail when she solos in the not too distant future!

One very good thing that Tina has is Dave Bacon another gyro pilot, who is right there to help her with her gyro and look out for her well being in gyros. Having someone who really cares is wonderful. They make a good team.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1159401543860915332006-09-27T16:03:00.000-07:002006-09-27T16:59:04.083-07:00Oh to be young again!Oh, to be young again! I'm still trying to get rested from the gyro fly-in on the lake bed last weekend. It seems that all I did was talk, and visit . Matter of fact, I talked and visited so much that I'm surprised that my mouth isn't tired. It's not my mouth that's tired, but everyplace else on me is.

I used to bounce back fairly quickly when Docko and I would do weekend Airshow exhibits and gyro flight demonstrations at air shows. We would exhibit our wares and I would fly demonstrations all weekend then we would get back to the office on Sunday evening, unload, crash at home till morning then I'd do flight training every day for the next week. But lots of water has gone under the bridge since then. I'm not complaining ( Docko would say, " how can you tell?"), but it sure was easier to bounce back in the good ole days.

Last weekend was 'good ole days' too . It was a thrill to meet Britta Penca who flys an Air Command gyro. Next year I hope she is able to bring her gyro and fly here at the lake. Tina Tyler, another gal gyro pilot was there with her beautiful white Vortex gyro. Tina hasn't flown it yet but will soon. She did have the thrill of seeing her gyro flown by Scott Heger who does a pretty mean job of gyro flying.

Scott is the local hot gyro pilot. Oh man, I can't wait to move him aside into
# 2 place. I'll be up there again one of these days in my Born Free gyro...look out Scott! But then , like I said, lots of water has gone under the bridge so maybe my gyro flying will have mellowed in the time since I've flown... Nahh, not likely! We will see how it goes.

I will do things right when I get back into the air, starting with having my gyro gone completely through and anything that needs replacing, replaced. And I will also get a flight physical even though I am in good shape and feel great. One thing for sure is that I will lose some excess fat before I fly again. That probably will be the hardest thing of all to do! It's unbelievable how fast that ugly stuff builds up when one is retired!

My favorite activity since retiring is sitting and reading and now my bod is showing the results of non-exercise. I'm surprised that Docko hasn't thrown a thunderbolt down on me. I know what he would say if he was here. When I had an extra pound... just one lousy extra pound, he would say that I looked," healthy". Didn't fool me for I knew he really meant "fat". Then he would pinch the tiny (tiny in those days) fat roll around my waist and say, "healthy".

The thought of getting back into gyro flying has always been in my mind but it seemed so far away at times. But now two very good friends , both of whom are gyro pilots, have offered to bring my gyro up to speed and help me get back in the air. They volunteered to do this. It isn't every day you come across such good and selfless people who are willing to give their time as these two have. They are Teddy Udala and Bobby Bettis.

It will be months and months before my dream comes to be but it will happen and it makes my heart sing to know that I will fly Born Free again.

Till next time
Marion Springer
email@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1159292673094097882006-09-26T09:41:00.000-07:002006-09-26T10:44:33.106-07:00The Gyro Fly-in on the lake bedWhere do I start? The Ken Brock Gyro Freedom Fly-n was held last weekend on the El Mirage dry lake. There are two events of the year that are the highlights of my year. One is the Indian PowWow in Hesperia in May and the other is the gyro fly-in in Sept. Of course it goes without saying that any time my family visits is the crowning highlight of my year but the other two events are right up there too.

My granddaughter Lynette and her husband Amer were here for the fly-in. Early on Friday morning while we were having breakfast a gyro flew over and did a couple of circles around our place. My granddaughter says it is dangerous to be between me and the door when a gyro goes over for I simply must run outside and wave. Soon a second gyro came over and circled. I told the kids, "let's get a move on. they are telling me to come out and play".

As happens sometimes, the Santa Ana winds were howling...30 mph on Saturday and almost the same on Sunday. A number of gyro pilots did some outstanding flying in the wind, Scott Heger, in particular. Others flew when it was somewhat calmer.

New gyro pilot Dave Bacon did his share of flying . He too came up and circled my home. He is on the way to becoming a very good pilot. Mad Man Mike Schallmann from Arizona was here with his beautiful gyro. Mike has a metal semi-enclosure on his gyro and it is so shiny that if I didn't see him fly I would think he spent all his time polishing the gyro. His gyro sports a picture of nose art from world war 11 military aircraft. The picture is a beautiful woman in an exotic pose with the caption," slightly dangerous". Mike does fly the daylights out of the gyro and he too came over our place. Does that gyro shine in the early morning sunlight...dazzling!

Adam Goad from Oregon was here with his 90 hp. Mac powered gyro and he did his share of flying. I was lucky enough to get a wonderful ride with Dave Dunn in his RAF 2000 gyro. Dave turned the controls over to me but I couldn't reach the rudder pedals so I didn't get a chance to fly the RAF. Woulda stretched my legs to make them reach if I could. I was so happy to be going up in a gyro again that I forgot to take a camera and here I've been talking about needing a good picture from altitude of the lake bed for the new gyro book . Talk about having my head in the clouds ! But during the fly-in I can't seem to focus on anything but gyros !

Jake Jones from Wyoming was here . He was having engine prooblems so didn't get much time on the gyro.

There were others flying and visiting with old and new gyro friends. Fly-ins are so neat. There is always someone ready to help with whatever one might need...tools or gyro parts or whatever. Teddy Udala was right there to help us get our shade tent set up and the table and chairs in place and just to generally be there.

For me, one of the best parts of the fly-n was that there were two women gyro pilots there besides me. To have gal gyro pilots, Tina Tyler and Britta Penca there was a treat. Tina hasn't flown her Vortex gyro yet and Britta didn't bring her Air Cammand gyro but hopefully they will be flying at the fly-in next year....and I will be too! I retired when my husband passed away and I haven't flown since then. The reasons are myriad, but I have decided to get my gyro up and running and get back into the air and the very thought of flying Born Free again makes my heart sing.

For a full rundown on the fly-in check out the next issue of PRA's Rotorcraft magazine. New Ch. 1 president, Randy Wrisley will be sending an article to PRA. Randy had just gotten out of the hospital and went directly to the fly-in...is that dedication or what ?

So, suffice it to say the fly-in was great as was having my grandkids with me...Lynette is making noises that she wants to learn to fly gyros...is there to be another woman gyro pilot in the Springer family ?

Till next time.
Marion Springer
email@example.com://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1158809215281108042006-09-20T19:32:00.000-07:002006-09-20T20:26:55.346-07:00Next Week Is HereYou have heard of people who never put off doing something till tomorrow when they can put it off till next week ? Well, that's me. And now next week is here and I'm not ready for it. The Ken Brock Freedom gyro fly-in is this weekend, Sept. 22, 23, and 24. I have neglected cleaning out the other bed room in my home for ages, coming up with one excuse after...it's too hot today...I've got other things to do today...It's too late to start it now, I'll get at it early tomorrow....No, gotta go to town on a grocery run tomorrow. Well, OK, then I'll do it next week. Next week is here! and the bedroom is still not mucked out and I expect to have guests in there tomorrow night . How did I get in this mess????

For one thing , my mind is not focusing on house cleaning period. Jake Jones , a long time friend and gyro pilot pulled in a few days ago and I've spent some time visiting with him catching up on gyro doings. Yesterday another gyro friend, Tom Carlisle from New Mexico came in towing his Dominator gyro. It had been a year since I saw him so there was more catching up to do.

Today was a run into town for groceries and errands, so no house cleaning today. As we came in I noticed several other gyro pilots with their gyros in tow coming onto the dry lake. It's gonna take a lotta restraint to stay home and clean that bedroom tomorrow when I want to go visit. But the time has run out so I will clean house early then hope to get down on the lake bed and talk the talk for a while afterwards.

When I was a young mother of four small children, I was a slave to
cleanliness...clean children, clean house, clean and pretty me with hair all done up and wearing a dress ( Heavens,never jeans, but a crisp clean frilly dress). My husband worked hard in construction and I thought he deserved to come home to cleanliness, everywhere...children , home and me and a good dinner on the table.

I would get the children their breakfast, see that they were all scrubbed and clean and in clean clothes then send them outside to play. Then I would spend hours cleaning house. When the house was spic and span I would shower, take the curlers out of my hair and put on a ruffly dress. Within minutes after my stepping out of the shower the children were back in the house, dirty, grimy, hungry and the house looked a cyclone had hit it.

So keeping children and house clean was a full time job and I can't remember all being spotless at the same time ! I learned to live with it and adjusted to dust balls under the beds, dirty foot prints here and there and all the rest. I finally learned that there were better things to do than fight dust and dirt all day long! It's an endless cycle, it just keeps comes back. The problem is though, that sometimes you just have to do some cleaning. So, tomorrow bright and early the bedroom gets cleaned...that is unless one of my gyro buddies shows up and we start talking gyros.

The guests who will be using the bedroom are my granddaughter Lynette and her husband Amer. They have seen my messy home before and will still love me even if I don't get the room clean before they get here.

I had a call from my friend Linda Delaney saying that she and John couldn't make the fly-in this year. I will miss them . They couldn't make it last year either. The reason was that they had just finished building a hangar and were in the process of building a new home. This year they have a house on the market and must be there to meet with prospective clients. I will be happy when Linda and John get some time to come to the fly-in and just enjoy being with the gyro pilots, or just some time to come visit.

Till next time.
Marion Springer
firstname.lastname@example.com://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270891.post-1158709317427043222006-09-19T16:01:00.000-07:002006-09-19T16:41:57.520-07:00If the lake could talk, what stories it could tellThis is an article I wrote awhile back to be included in another gyro book I'm currently writing . I cut and pasted the article to this blog page. There is a very interesting photo of the crashed gyro in the original article. Unfortunately, the photo didn't come along when I cut and pasted the rest of the story here and I don't have the skill to put the picture on the blog. I find computers much more difficult to operate than gyrocopters! Maybe I can have my granddaughter move the photo to the blog when she comes to visit. Anyway here is the story.
.....................................................................................

If the lake could talk, what stories it could tell.

My entertainment for one summer on the El Mirage dry lake was a group of people who were determined to fly a two place Air Command gyro by remote control. The gyro was not a model but a full size gyro .

 I first learned of them when Bill Davis , a gyro pilot , had seen them on the lake while he was flying . Bill had landed nearby and visited with them . He told Docko and me about their plan to fly the gyro without a pilot . It sounded interesting so Docko and I drove to the other end of the lake to take a look . I had been flying earlier and was still wearing my orange flight suit .

 We parked the van , got out and approached the group who were gathered around the parked gyro . As we walked toward the gyro I could see that they had placed a platform across the wide seat of the machine and the platform seemed to be full of instruments .

 One of the group came out to meet us . We told him we had heard of their project and would like to see their gyro if they didn't mind .

 Seeing my orange flight suit instantly put the man on the defensive. " You must be the other gyro pilot flying this morning ", he said . I replied that I had been flying earlier and would be in the air again before long . Things went downhill between us from there .

 When he learned that I planned to fly again he began giving me my marching orders . " We don't want you flying anywhere in this vicinity……We do not want you to come closer than …..You are to stay away from…..

 Who would want to fly near where they were attempting to fly a gyro without a pilot ? Not me . Common sense would dictate that one keep some distance from their activities .

 I was a professional flight instructor . I knew the FAR's ( Federal Aviation Regulations ) , I had common sense , and besides I didn't appreciate being talked down to .

 So, before he had finished his tirade we left without bothering to look at their
machine . Later in the day word reached us that their first attempt to fly the gyro by remote control had failed and the machine had been badly damaged . They had packed up the bent gyro and gone away . I couldn't muster up any sympathy for them . " Serves them right ", I thought .

 The next week they were back . The Air Command had been repaired and it also had been modified . Week two was a replay of the first week . They wrecked the gyro again , packed it up and went away .

 That same scene was played out over and over during the summer . They were never able to fly the gyro but they kept trying and each week they would bend the gyro , take it away , repair it , modify it , and try again the following week .

 We would see the modified gyro as we drove across the lake bed or I would see it from the air as I flew my gyro . Before long it had been modified so much it no longer resembled an Air Command , or any other gyro for that matter . Still , they hadn't been able to successfully fly the machine .

 Then one day the leader of the group drove up to our home on the edge of the dry lake . " We need help ", he said , " we're having trouble trying to fly the gyro . This morning we tore the nose wheel off while trying to make a take off ".

 I replied that it sounded to me like whoever was trying to fly the gyro didn't know what he was doing . I had offended the man . He informed me that he was the one who was handling the controls . He added that he was president of some such remote control organization and that he had vast amounts of knowledge and flying of radio control model aircraft .

 Diplomacy is not one of my strong points , so I blurted out , " yeah , but what do you know about flying gyros ? ".

 " I have had gyro flight training " , he replied . "I had two hours of instruction from a guy in Florida ". Well , I knew the 'guy in Florida ' . He instructed in gyros but was not a certified flight instructor . ' The guy in Florida ' had told me himself that his students received 20 minutes of actual flight time per hour of instruction .

 So this man with the remote control , full sized Air Command had traveled 3000 miles from California to Florida for 40 minutes of gyro flight instruction and now that he found he didn't know how to fly the gyro he wanted some free handy tips from me . Fat chance ! That went over like a lead balloon with me !

 "We have been hoping you would make some landings and take offs near us so we could see how you do it ", he said . "My , my ", I thought . " It hasn't been so very long ago that you didn't want me flying within a country mile of you . Now you're singing a different tune . Oh, how sweet it is !".

 He said he was having trouble with the take off and wanted me to brief him on proper take off procedure . I asked how ' the guy in Florida' had taught him to make a take off . " Oh, he never let me touch the controls on take off ", he replied . So how did this man think he could make a gyro take off the ground if he didn't know the first thing about it ???? Amazing , simply amazing .

 I gave him my standard line that I couldn't teach him to fly just by talking about it and suggested he take a full flight training program . He insisted he didn't need that much training and grudgingly said he would take one hour of instruction . That didn't happen because it wasn't our policy to offer flight training by the hour .

 So he went back to his group and they continued with their crash , rebuild and modify program for a couple of more weeks but they threw in the towel after a final spectacular crash of their gyro .

 Bill Davis had happened by just after the crash and saw the wreckage of the remote controlled Air Command scattered about on the lake bed . He landed and talked with the group . They were looking at a video of the last crash and were trying to figure out what happened . They invited Bill to view the video of the gyros' last hurrah with them .

 According to Davis , they had finally gotten the gyro into the air . It flew a short distance then they tried to land it . The landing was extremely hard , and caused the gyro to bounce 15 to 20 feet up into the air . At the top of the bounce the operator did the absolutely worst possible thing he could do . He had shut the engine down !

 The gyro did the only thing it could possibly do….it dropped in . The mast folded , the blades dug in , and the gyro was totally destroyed . That permanently ended their crash , rebuild and modify program .

 Two things killed the gyro – one man's huge ego and his cheapness . What a shame.

Marion Springer, CFI-Gyro, Ret.
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I was recently reminded while troubleshooting a friend's small business network of where most computer systems' real security weaknesses lie. Where do you think it is? The desktop operating system, which was Windows XP SP3? The server operating systems, which were Windows Server 2003 SP2 and Novell's SLES (SUSE Linux Enterprise Server) 11 SP1? Or, the Sonicwall TZ 210 firewall appliance?
The answer was, of course, none of the above. The weakest spot on your network is never your operating systems, your hardware, your applications, your security software or any of the rest of the technical side. The weakest link is always you and your people.
Whether it's something as simple as that old stand-by of users putting a password on a yellow sticky note on their monitor or someone tricking their way into your office with a fake ID, your real security problem is the people sitting between their keyboards and their displays.
Security software like anti-virus programs and firewalls do help stop attacks coming from over the Internet, but if you have only one person who's willing to click on a malware-bearing fake Hallmark e-card, you still have a problem.
The answer to this problem is education. You need to remind your users -- and yourself while you're at it -- that on the Internet everyone really is out to get you and you always have to your guard up. After all, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that they're not out to get you.
This is boring I know. You'll find it boring; your users will certainly find it boring. But, it's the only way to make your network safer. It won't be perfectly safe mind you. There is no such thing as perfect security. But, it will help.
In my friend's case, I tracked down his problem to an employee who had brought a laptop from home into work and he had managed to give his laptop a case of Net-Worm.Win32.Kido.ih. When he booted up his system at the office, the virus got loose on their LAN and started fouling up their Windows 2003 servers, which is when I got called in.
OK, so there were several problems here, not the least of which was that they hadn't been doing a good job of keeping their Windows machines updated since the Windows security hole that lets Kido do its stuff, MS08-067 has been patched for over a year. Still, the bottom line is that they never would have ended up in any trouble if 1) the end-user hadn't had an infected laptop and 2) the IT staff let him hook his PC right up to the corporate network. Another day, another technical problem that was also largely a people problem.


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'Kruikov, the 15th overall pick in the 2000 NHL draft, has been in western New York since the summer. The Sabres decided they wanted him under contract after assessing his abilities in training camp, but negotiations between the Russian league and the IIHF apparently hit a roadblock. In order to join the Sabres organization, Kruikov, 21, needed his release from his team, Yaroslav, of the Russian League.'
The Sabres Report - November 6, 2003


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Lost love of my life to cancer after 22 faithful years together.
I'm getting over it and won't bring it up unless you do.
Experience tells me there is bound to be a rebound relationship or two, so I'm not opposed to something casual or a to a night out to meet someone who intrigues me even without the prospect of sex.
I see life as a spectrum of color not grey or black/white. Best summary is a liberal redneck. I believe in safety nets, but that people have responsibilities too. I hate the hateful and am intolerant of intolerance. This goes for the radical right and loony left.
Have lived an interesting life which has taken the edges off the sharper parts of my personality. My friends will tell you I have a demented sense of humor, but that doesn't stop them from laughing at my jokes.
Not looking for a mother or caretaker. I don't think of myself as a romantic, but do have that side, coming home to someone, put my arms around them, nuzzle their neck, earlobe, ...
I give flowers/etc. when not expected. You won't see me trying to buy my way out after pissing you off.
I could go on for pages, but what would be talk about later?
Study: My job requires continuous studying to keep up with the industry, luckily I like to read and am a quick study.
Self: I've been in a serious relationship for all buy 2 or 3 years in my adult life. Now is the time for me to do things for me. Get back in shape. At the rate I'm going, I will be back in high school weight/shape by Summer.
Short term: enjoy life more. Kayaking, camping, sailing, archery.
Long term: Still deciding.
Very bright with a natural technical ability. Reading comes easy; along with eclectic interests means that I'm good at a great many things and seeing the big picture that ties it all together. It has also helped me learn to appreciate things outside my normal comfort zone.
Oh yeah, when I get wound up I swear like the sailor I used to be.
So, I'll just include the top 5 artists I would bring to a desert isle.
Books: Sci-fi is my favorite. I would have to go with the most prolific and thought provoking. Heinlein, Asimov, Clark, Brin and throw in King and his pseudonyms.
Movies: Tarantino, Spielberg, Hitchcock, Lucas and the Coen brothers.
TV: Simpsons, Mash, Star Gate, Star Trek and SNL.
Other than doing my best to see every Vikings game, I'm not into watching sports. I would rather take that time and do something myself.
Music: Tom Petty (Heartbreakers and Wilburys), Neil Young (and his various associations), Ozzy (and Sabbath), Eric Clapton (and his various bands) and Dave Grohl (Nirvana and Foo Fighters)
I have a large tape, lp, cd collection, but you won't find twangy country or most hip-hop/rap in it. I like reggae/ska in the background when I read or work where others might like classical or mpr.
Food: Pizza, burgers, fries/misc. deep fried stuff and escargot.
Prefer local dives over franchises. (Anchor, Gronks, Blackwoods, Hugos, Lees.) Wendys over McDonalds if I have to drive through, otherwise it's Gordys, A&W or A&Dubs.
Prefer liquor over beer and sweet wine over dry or bitter.
I'm even a decent cook if forced.
Not a fan of Green Peppers and vinegar/spoiled tasting things, but still give new things a try and revisit things I haven't liked in the past.
I've come to think that too many people are so caught up in the past they don't see what's coming. Conservatives are stuck in the 1860s, liberals in the 1960s and no one is looking at 2060.
Sometimes I just like to put on my tunes, do something physical and enjoy the moment.
Otherwise reading and listening to music, but sometimes eyes glued to the TV (love/hate relationship with it)...oh Friday, gotta watch Bill Maher or at least record it for later.
I will answer, but if I'm not interested, it will be because of your profile/answers not your looks. After looking at the available profiles, I can't believe the number of narrow minded people in Duluth. Almost makes me want to move to the Cities again.
If you are can watch Fox News or Jesse Jackson/Al Sharpton for more than 10-15 minutes without turning the channel then we probably aren't a great match.


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Domenick "Dom" J. Greto 91 of Havana, FL. passed away Sunday, August 17, 2014 at Capital Regional Medical Center in Tallahassee.
The graveside funeral service will be held at 10:00 a.m. on Friday, August 22, 2014 at Concord Cemetery in Havana, FL.
Mr. Greto was born September 17, 1922 in Mamaroneck, NY. The son of the late Domenick Greto and Theresa Perri Greto. He was a US Army veteran, serving in WWII. He worked and retired form Chris Craft Boat Company in Pompano Beach, FL. He coached little league baseball for many years. He was of the Catholic faith.
Survivors include his daughter Ann Marie (Cookie) Hunt ( husband Tommy) of Havana FL; two sons Robert Greto (wife Marla) of Stanford, KY and James Greto (wife Karen) of Margate, FL. One brother Samuel Greto of Port Chester, NY. and eight grandchildren and six great-grandchildren. He is preceded in death by his wife Elizabeth (Betty) Greto in 1997.
Domenick "Dom" J. Greto
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Cutting for Fun, Profits, and Giggles: Surgically Removing the Appendix, Tonsils, and Spleen
According to the World Health Organization, the United States is ranked 38th in life expectancy, indicating that its standard medical practices are inferior to Cuba, South Korea, Costa Rica, Guadeloupe, Singapore, and 31 other nations. The U.S. system of medicine is only slightly superior to the Czech Republic and Slovenia, despite the U.S. spending approximately 16% of its total expenditures every year for health related expenses. Standard medicine in the U.S. is the world's most expensive, and yet it is among the least safe.
Creating Dependence For Repeat Customers
There are plenty of medical procedures which are both unnecessary and dangerous. With most of them, a complete recovery is eventually possible provided that the patient steps away from the medical establishment, and begins taking care of his own health.
There are, however, three very common surgical operations which make recovery to perfect health practically impossible, as well as limiting the effectiveness of future health therapies. These procedures leave their victims forever dependent on a system that is concerned primarily with ever-increasing profits. These barbaric procedures cripple the immune system, making it unlikely that patients will ever be able to fully live healthy lives, and the establishment has misled us through its media influences into believing that random organ dysfunctions are unexplainable, normal, and incurable without surgical removal. With truly neanderthal-like logic, they have perpetuated a belief that some organs simply become "bad", and that the best solution is hacking them out with knives. Society will someday mock these procedures in the same way that it now mocks other dated medical techniques, such as blood letting.
The three vital organs discussed herein play important roles in the immune system, and all three have been discarded as if they were useless by the medical profession, at one time or another. The removal of these organs depresses victims' immune systems, which means that even weak pathogens acquire the potential to be fatal in such compromised patients. These operations carry special risks above other surgeries, because the greatest cause of death following 'successful' surgeries is secondary infections.
Tragically, it is most common for children to be treated in this way. Parents are characteristically afraid to question any surgical procedure that is doctor recommended, for doctors already have a reputation for contacting child protective services in order to surgically remove parents who have enough character to dissent, so fear is actually warranted. Throughout the whole process, no person is ever given informed consent, including the parents', since informed consent requires full disclosure of the whole truth, not just the bits considered politically expedient or required by the hospital's legal department.
When removed, all of these organs have been documented to grow back: some more often than others. It is fairly common for the tonsils to regrow, although they rarely achieve their previous size and efficiency. These are are among the many signs that the human body knows much more about what it really needs than 'the experts' do.
The Tonsils
In the 1970's, several million tonsillectomies were performed every year in America alone. These were purportedly done to prevent infections. They were almost always performed on children. Parents were assured that no lasting harm would be done to their children, and that children would eventually become healthier from it. These operations were portrayed as the only option when antibiotics showed limited effectiveness in subduing infections of tonsillitis. The allopathic medical establishment is finally admitting that the tonsils have an important role in human health.
The tonsils are composed of lymphoid tissues, which create white blood cells needed to fight infections. Therefore, they are a critical part of the immune system. The tonsils especially promote resistance to all infections that enter through the mouth or nose, before infections have an opportunity to go on to impact the entire body. This pathway, which the tonsils guard, is the most common route for infections to enter the body. Nevertheless, the allopathic medical establishment still performs 500,000 of these surgeries annually, despite a plethora of research proving that these surgeries are detrimental.
Removing parts of the body is something that we have come to expect from the orthodox medical establishment, because they are known for treating the symptoms of ailments, but never the causes. Removing two inflamed (i.e. overworked) tonsils is the equivalent of removing smoke detectors because they are making too much noise. Members of the orthodox establishment have actually proudly paraded this stupidity as cutting edge, modern medicine. It is as if the emperor has no clothes.
Most shocking is the fact that surgeons usually wait until children are healthy to cut out their tonsils. They incredibly call cutting up healthy children 'preventative medicine'.
A surgeon's knife has traditionally been used to cut out the tonsils, but electrocautery (a heated wire) has become an increasingly popular method. At one time, X-ray radiation treatments were used on children's tonsils to shrink (destroy) them via radiation poisoning. Then doctors realized that this process was greatly increasing their patients' chances of developing thyroid cancer, as if it had been unknown to them that cancers are caused by radiation. Since this treatment was directly causing cancers, it is no longer used for tonsillitis even though radiation is still actually used, incredibly, as a cancer treatment despite its known connection to causing cancer.
"Although at least 60% of children will be recommended to have a tonsillectomy, no more than 1 in 10,000 (0.01%) actually need the operation."
-- Dr. Robert S. Mendlesohn, M.D., 1984
Creating The Polio Epidemic
Scientists, and some of the braver doctors, now wonder if the Polio Epidemic was caused by the high number of tonsillectomies done in the 1920's through the 1940's. They discovered that the only organ in the body which synthesizes the antibody for Polio (Poliomyelitis) is the tonsils. Persons with removed tonsils have extreme difficulty resisting infections by the Polio Virus. In the 1920's, 30's and 40's, children tonsils were removed regardless of their health. This was supposedly done for the sake of preventive medicine against tonsillitis, since allopathic doctors were falsely trained that the tonsils served no purpose. Traditional Chinese Medicine and Alternative Medicine had long recognized the tonsils as a crucial component of a strong immune system, but leaders of the orthodox medical establishment claimed that they needed scientific tests to prove that these internal organs were actually there for a reason, even as they continually ignored the consequences of removing them. This unique version of science is still practiced by the A.M.A., and the damage done by Polio resulted from it.
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what a ridiculous penalty! I would be quite sure that a bottle of water did not affect the weight test etc. commonsense should prevail and the initial result should stand. even a fine would be ridiculous