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Show F-51 Flies As Heat As In Cor-idlVar II Fellow publisher (of Sarasota's newspapers) David Lindsay took up flying with such a venegeance after world war II he bought all the old parts of the war's greatest fighter, the P-51 from North American, the builder. FOR A time Lindsay built F-51's (as they're called now) at his Sarasota plant, named Cavalier, and sold them to sportsmen, business men and other enthusiasts, many of whom are still intrigued by the unique flying qualities of the nostalgic Mustang. This was the fighter, of course, which had such sensational sen-sational range. It could escort U.S. bombers 500 miles or more and return, and outfight enemy fighters in the bargain. bar-gain. I first flew il, in training in world war II, at Pinellas Air Force Base, on the outskirts of St. Petersburg, thirty miles from here. WHEN LINDSAY stopped building and selling them, some years back, he kept a couplea single seater and a dual seater. Just recently he had the dual seater repaint-ed-a bright red and white. Its Rolls-Merlin engine is in perfect per-fect condition and every week or so a pilot takes it out of the hangar and flies through the air over Sarasota -or did. Because in February Lindsay Lind-say decided to have it flown to California and-horror of horrors-sold! It might fetch about $175,000, which ain't hay, even in 1978. THE NIGHT before the big red and white bird was to leave its spiritual home here on Florida's west coast, we were dining-. wives and all at the Field Club. 1 knew selling that personal F-51 had to tug some of Lindsay's heartstr-ings-but we didn't mention lhal. And he knew I hadn't flown in an F-51 since 1SM5, when I was flying one like all get-out, doing my small part in the war and getting old bunkie safely back on the ground-not shot off, on combat missions from England. WHERE ARE you going to be tomorrow morning when the pilot who's selling your bird leaves for California?' I asked. "Just where you're going to be," he said. "At the airport. Would you like to go up one last time?' At nine next morning, a beautiful February 19th in Sarasota, cobalt blue sky, wind out of the northwest, a real Bermuda high, we gathered. Bud McNair, the regular F-51 pilot, warmed up the fighter and flew it around the field a few times. I GOT IN after that. We took off and flew west of the Golf, and south over the white beaches of Longboat Key. then headed in over Bird Key. the island in Sarasota Bay where loyal wife and sons, alerted, were waiting to see old pappy guy's world war II fighter zoom overhead. ZOOM overhead we did -with that old familiar whistle only the Mustang has-pass-ing over house and family, out among orange trees in the yard, at about 11 a.m. The engine sounded terribly loud after all these years but the Mustang flies as it always has, like the best. I sat up there and rubber-necked at the blue Gulf, green citrus and beautiful white, yellow and pink homes of Sarasota-a long, long way from the skies ot Germany, of another time with a younger man at the controls. |
