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Show Events will commemorate World War II Tokyo raid A B-25 Bomber will be at the Heber City Airport Submitted by the Commemorative Air Force This year marks the 75th anniversary of Jimmy Doolittle’s daring raid over Tokyo. Among the highlights of this week-long commemoration will be a visit from a B-25 Mitchell bomber, a swing dance party, World War II re-enactment and a pancake breakfast. All events are sponsored by the Utah Wing of the Commemorative Air Force (CAF). The bomber — Maid in the Shade — arrives at Heber City Airport at noon on June 5. Restored and maintained by the CAF Arizona Airbase, this historic war bird will be available for all to see June 5-11 from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. daily. Take a ride, tour the big bird, or just marvel at her magnificent beauty. Wish her a happy 73rd birthday on June 9 at our annual swing dance party. She departs Heber City airport at 9 a.m. on June 12. The B-25 Mitchell was named after General Billy Mitchell, a famous Army Air Corps general of the 1920s and 1930s. It proved to be one of the best weapons and was possibly the most versatile aircraft of World War II. Heavily armed, it was utilized for high- and low-level bombing, strafing, photo reconnaissance, submarine patrol and fighting. It’s most distinguishing role was in the historic raid over Tokyo by the Doolittle Raiders. Led by the legendary pilot Jimmy Doolittle, sixteen B-25 Mitchell bombers departed April 18, 1942, from the aircraft carrier USS Hornet on a 500-foot runway each with a 2000-pound bomb load. They flew 2000 miles before bombing military sites in Japan. After the raid 15 aircraft crash-landed in China; the 16th landed in the Soviet Union. This mission served as retaliation for the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, proving that Japan was vulnerable to American air power. It was an important boost to American morale — the beginning of a plan that U.S. Commemorative Air Force / park record Crew No. 1 stands in front of B-25 No. 40-2344 on the deck of the USS Hornet on April 18, 1942. From left to right: (front row) Lt. Col. Doolittle, pilot; Lt. Richard E. Cole, copilot; (back row) Lt. Henry A. Potter, navigator; Staff Sgt. Fred A. Braemer, bombardier; Staff Sgt. Paul J. Leonard, flight engineer/gunner. would restore American pride. All but three of the original 80 Raiders survived the mission. Today, only one remains: 101-year-old Dick Cole. Maid in the Shade was manufactured at the North American Aviation plant in Kansas City and delivered to the U.S. Army Air Force on June 9, 1944. She served her last wartime duty with the 319th Bomb Group, 437th Squadron at Serraggia Airbase, Corsica. She flew 15 combat missions over Italy between Nov. 4 and Dec. 31, 1944. The majority of the targets were railroad bridges. She was fully restored over a 27-year period at the CAF Arizona Airbase. The CAF is a worldwide nonprofit organization dedicated to restoring, maintaining and flying World War II aircraft for the purpose of honoring veterans and educating the general public about the contributions of military aviation in assuring our nation’s freedom. This event is sponsored by the Utah Wing of the CAF. The Utah Wing maintains a yearround aviation museum at the Heber City airport, including two Stearman bi-planes (World War II trainers), two North American Aviation T-6 Texans (advanced World War II trainers) and a number of educational displays. The museum is open May through October, Saturday through Sunday, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. and by appointment: 435-709-7269. A one-time event donation is appreciated: $5 adults, $3 seniors; children and World War II veterans are free. B-25 tour is $5for adults and $10 for families. Event activities include: • June 5, noon to 1 p.m. B-25Maid in the Shade lands Heber City Airport Meet a WWII veteran • June 5-11, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. B-25 tours B-25 rides are $650 (front), $325 (aft window seat) Stearman bi-plane open cockpit rides are $275 North American T-6 rides are $375 Reserve your B-25, Stearman, or T-6 flight today: 435- 5037903 • June 9, 6-10 p.m. Swing Dance Birthday Party featuring The Danny Newell All-Star Big Band. The cost is $15 for adults, $25 for a couple, and kids and World War II vets get entry for free. Lola’s Street Truck (Mexican food for purchase) will be on site. Help us celebrate Maid in the Shade’s 73rd birthday. • June 10, 8-10 a.m. Have pancake breakfast with a B-25 bomber pilot. The cost is $8 for adults, and $3 for kids and seniors, World War II vets get to eat for free. • June 12, 9 a.m. B-25 departs Heber City Airport Chaffetz created firm before announcing his resignation By MICHELLE L. PRICE Associated Press SALT LAKE CITY — Utah Rep. Jason Chaffetz, whose abrupt announcement last week that he was quitting Congress and his key role as chairman on the House Oversight Committee left a trail of questions, set up a new company in April just a day before announcing he wouldn’t run for re-election. Chaffetz, a five-term Republican, said he doesn’t feel compelled to talk about what he may do after leaving Congress next month. But he told The Associated Press on Tuesday that the business — Strawberry C — may become a reincarnation of his former public relations and marketing firm. “I’ll probably do something like that again,” said Chaffetz, who leaves Congress on June 30. He declined to address rumors that he was joining the Fox News Channel after acknowledging last week that he has “started the process to talk to certain organizations.” “There’s lots of rumors, but I don’t feel a compulsion to have Sat/Sun/Mon/Tues, May 27-30, 2017 The Park Record A-22 to talk about what I’m going to do after I leave Congress. Not yet at least,” Chaffetz said Tuesday. Chaffetz, known for his hardcharging investigations of Hillary Clinton and her handling of emails, announced on April 19 that he would not seek re-election then followed up last week by saying he was leaving early, with his last day in Congress on June 30. The decision came as the House Oversight Committee began looking into President Donald Trump’s firing of FBI director James Comey. The congressman has said the decision was motivated by a “mid-life crisis” and a desire to be with his family rather than spend more nights away from home in Washington. Chaffetz has faced pressure to investigate the Trump administration, including in Utah, where he was met at a February town hall with boos and calls for him to prove the president’s possible ties to Russia. Before announcing his resignation, Chaffetz had taken some first aggressive steps against the Republican White House, vowing to get memos Comey had written about meeting with Trump. He invited Comey to speak at a Wednesday hearing, but that was postponed while Comey speaks with special counsel investigating possible ties between Trump and Russia. Documents filed with Utah’s division of corporations show Chaffetz started preparing for a post-Congress career as early as April 17, when he filled out an application for his new company. He registered the company a day later to his home address. Filing documents do not list any other officers and do not give any indication about the nature of the business or its name. “I kind of decided back in the end of March that I conceptually made up my mind that we were going to make some sort of change,” Chaffetz said. “I just set it up not knowing exactly what and when I would do anything.” Chaffetz said he has owned the domain name “strawberryc.com” for years, along with various other domain names. Asked about the meaning behind the name, Chaffetz said he likes strawberries and the C is a reference to his last name. Though he has set up the business, he said he hasn’t started doing any work on it. Sunday in the Park By Jenny Knaak Heartfelt homecomings I spend a lot of time at the airport. I’m not traveling myself, mind you … just standing in the baggage claim with a little sign. One of the functions of my job is to greet incoming performers when they land — I make sure they have all their people and luggage, and know where they’re staying, and take them over to the car service which drives them from the airport to our magical snow-globe of a town. I have noticed that when one stands in a public area with a clipboard, people automatically assume the clipboard holder will be full of helpful information. “Where are the rental cars? Am I in the correct terminal? If my flight was re-routed, where will I find my luggage? Is there anything to eat here?” They ask. And, although I don’t work for the airport, or any company that has a desk in the airport, I have spent enough time there to actually know the answer to their questions … At least, most of the time. I help them when I can, and direct them to someone who can, when I can’t. I have also found that many people see through the clipboard holder, much like people will often forget there is another human driving their taxi, and carry on with whatever crazy discussion they were having prior to getting into said car. As the invisible person, I have witnessed all kinds of human behavior. The little kids, so exhausted they just lay down on the cold, hard, dirty floor and go to sleep. The folks who over-served themselves in First Class, tottering and swaying as they are surprised by the movement and speed of the escalator. The sweethearts, separated for “obviously” too long, who cannot contain their love, or excitement, or tongues as they search for each other’s tonsils at baggage claim. (I’m probably just a little jealous here – I’ve been with my mate for 23 years and when we’re separated for more than 48 hours, I’m greeted with a hug and peck on the cheek. Maybe a light, quick kiss if I’m lucky. The days of nervous excitement were literally last millennia.) But the homecomings … They get me. I often have to explain to our out-of-state, and international, travelers why exactly there is a huge group of people in matching shirts, with balloons and banners and signs and video cameras (now just cell phones) who emit ear-piercing screams when their lovedone walks around the corner, or descends the escalator. It is particularly nerve-wracking to me when I am greeting an especially high-profile performer. They sometimes request to be met by only their driver…And it is only after diligent negotiation and explanation of my many years of professional experience (and not autograph hunting) that I am allowed to greet them. And invariably there will be an LDS Missionary greeting party at the airport at the same time. And the screams and cheers hit rock-concert levels. I watched her start to panic behind her sunglasses.” It only happened once…My chanteuse stepped on the right escalator just behind her assistant at the same time a Returning Elder stepped on the left escalator. And the screams and cheers hit rock-concert levels. I watched her start to panic behind her sunglasses. I watched her tense up and consider backing off the escalator…and then relax, slightly, when she realized the excitement was directed elsewhere. They were only too happy to learn about the tradition of families, showing up en masse, to greet their modern-day missionaries after two years serving their church, often overseas. But it’s the other groups, waiting for their loved ones… They really touch me. Sometimes they have balloons — usually yellow. They rarely have signs. And they huddle in nervous anticipation. There is none of the rowdy jostling between siblings and cousins as the other groups. None of the sing-along’s or practice greetings or silly dances the other groups start. This other type of greeting party waits quietly. And when they see their loved one step onto the escalator (almost always in Terminal 2) they exhale. As if they have been afraid to fully breathe, to really believe, their solider is actually returning until they see him. Or her. And then the quiet tears roll. Down their collective faces. And mine. I can’t help it. I have always been susceptible to other people’s emotions. And I can’t help but identify with them, at least a little. My husband was in the Army. Full time for a while, before I knew him, and then in the National Guard when we met. We were almost married very quickly, early in our relationship. We were already engaged, but weren’t planning on a wedding until the following year. But he received The Warning. Which meant: get your gear together, get your affairs in order and be ready for The Call. Once we received The Call, we would have 48 hours before he deployed on a mission. And we both wanted to be married before he left — otherwise, I was a non-person in the eyes of the Army, and all communication about his well-being would be with his estranged mother. So we prepped as best we could — he packed his gear, and I made sure my white party dress was clean. The time came and passed — he received The Stand-Down. And we both breathed a sigh of relief. I still get knots in my stomach remembering how that felt — and that was just anticipation for him departing. I truly can’t imagine how it would feel to have him gone for nine to 12 months…Not knowing how he was, walking on pins and needles, afraid to answer the phone for fear of bad news, afraid to not answer the phone for fear of missing any news… And so, when I see the palpable relief in the shape of teardrops on their faces, my faucets turn on, too. Because I can only imagine, I am grateful I have to imagine what they feel. And I think, any day is a good day for a homecoming, especially Sunday in the Park. Jenny Knaak, guest columnist, is the daughter of Teri Orr, the customary author of “Sunday in The Park.” Writers on the Range By Andrew Gulliford A river trip ends in tragedy As spring returns to the Rockies, I think about a day last summer when we packed for a rafting trip, never thinking to pack for death. We took clothes, cameras, river gear, sleeping bags and tents. We never dreamed there might be a tragedy, a whitewater death by drowning. And yet that accident happened, and our lives were forever changed the instant the raft flipped. It took hours for a helicopter to come by, low and slow, searching for the kind of shadow that reveals where a body might be hidden underwater, pinned by boulders. Four other rafts were well ahead of us when our raft slammed into a submerged tree and the commercial river guide yelled, “High side! High side!” That meant we had to move fast to the upside of our raft to prevent water from getting into the low side and flipping us. But in a tight canyon with the river roaring at 9,000 cubic feet per second, everything happened simultaneously. The raft tossed all six of us into 45-degree water. I blew out the back end and swam to a log near an island. I looked around for my companions. I saw no one. It was the first day and the first rapid on a four-day rafting trip. In those seconds after the accident, as I tried to understand what had happened, I heard only the rushing water. Then I saw the upside-down raft bobbing furiously in the river, caught in the kind of submerged tree that river-runners call a strainer. I stayed on the log, debating whether to try to get to the island, when our guide appeared out of the thick willows. He saw me and patted his head. I patted mine in turn to signal that I was OK. We couldn’t hear each other over the sound of the river. He turned around and melted back into the brush, and I stayed a few more minutes on the log, my impromptu sanctuary. In 20 years of river running, I’ve experienced plenty of flips, but this one felt different. I reached the island, removed my lifejacket and helmet and tried to dry off as the sun climbed the cliff. Then one of the couples who had been in the front of our raft appeared, both of them barefoot because the river had ripped their sandals off. We hugged. It took hours for a helicopter to come by...” We explored the island. On both channels the river roared by too swiftly for us to make a safe exit. Then we saw two guides signaling to each other across the river about how many of us had been rescued. And that is when we knew: One of us was lost. River running, both in private boats and commercially, has become firmly established in the Rocky Mountain West. Families want a taste of adventure, cold water splashed on hot skin, yells and shouts of excitement, a reason to hang on to the “chicken line” as the rafts tumble through rapids. We crave excitement. Our group had planned this trip months in advance without knowing that a record snowpack would force the dam above us to release huge amounts of cold water, not only to save the dam but also for downstream ir- rigation. These pulse floods are healthy for the environment, reestablishing habitat for endangered fish and bird species. But with high flows, there is little margin for human error. Now, as the bright sunshine ebbed towards late afternoon shade, we survivors were grateful simply to be alive. The next hours blend together. I recall deep wails and sobs of grief from the man whose partner was missing. He kept saying, “Why her, God? Why not me? Take me, I’m older.” The inevitable questions arose about the random nature of death, who dies, and why. Weeks later, I thought about the hidden complexities of the situation. Here we were, trapped in a canyon, and yet also caught between some of the West’s other competing activities, things like farming and irrigation, activities far removed from river running. The Bureau of Reclamation, I had learned, would not slow a scheduled release from one of their big dams — not even to retrieve a body. There were 28 passengers on the trip, and among them were grandparents who’d brought their grandchildren. I hoped those children did not blame the river. We had chosen to be in the wilderness, and that choice had irrevocable consequences. Snow is melting now in the backcountry. Rivers will rise in June from snowmelt, and rafters will launch with a sense of nervous expectation. To every river runner and every excited passenger: I wish you safe passage. Andrew Gulliford is a contributor to Writers on the Range, the opinion service of High Country News (hcn.org). He is a professor of history and environmental studies at Fort Lewis College, gulliford_a@fortlewis.edu. |