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Show HILLTOP TIMES B-52 gearing up for a 'ghost' ride By KIMBERLY WOODRUFF Tinker AFB Public Affairs T INKER AIR FORCE BASE, Okla. — With high demands on maturing aircraft, the Air Force is finding creative ways to save money on an aging fleet. With the chance of manufacturing a new B-52 out of the question — because production ceased in the 1960s — the Air Force is finding it more costeffective to regenerate it rather than repair it. Calling on the 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group, or 309th AMARG, an aircraft that has been in storage for more than six years will soon be back in the fleet. The original B-52 fleet had 744 aircraft; however, due to compliance with the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty and Congressional mandates, the Air Force is left with just 76 in today's fleet. Last year, a mishap at Barksdale Air Force Base, Louisiana, left a B-52 severely damaged. Immediately following the incident, Tinker's B-52 System Program Office teamed with Boeing to conduct engineering analysis, along with cost estimates. They proposed a course of action to Air Staff to retire the damaged jet and replace it with one from 309th AMARG, also known as the Air Force's "Boneyard," at Davis-Monthan AFB, Ariz. According to Capt. Chuck McLeod, a logistics career broadening officer and the B-52 SPO's team lead for the regeneration effort, "Salvaging a retired B-52 from the 'Boneyard' saves taxpayers money." He continued, "It's far too expensive to repair the damaged aircraft or manufacture a new bomber, not to mention there hasn't even been a new B-52 since 1962." Choosing an aircraft AMARG has maintained B-52H serial number 61-0007 in 1000-type storage, meaning it has the highest parts cannibalization restrictions requiring Headquarters Air Force approval for each part being requested. It is the most preserved level of aircraft storage H i lltop ME S January 22, 2015 9 TERESA PITTMAN, AMARG/Air Force While some personnel inspect the top of the left wing, others prepare to work in the No. 1 wheelwell, as the aircraft sits in the Air Force's "Boneyard" at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, Ariz. with thin layers of strippable paint covering portions of the aircraft to protect it from the environment. "Tail Number 61-0007, a former Minot Tail known as 'Ghost Rider,' was chosen after thorough inspections. It was a careful decision based on extensive engineering analysis. This aircraft has been exceptionally well-preserved and maintained by the 309th AMARG team, which made the B-52 SPO's and Air Force Global Strike Command's recommendation to Air Staff to regenerate this tail number the obvious choice," Captain McLeod said. Brenden Shaw, Air Force Life Cycle Management Center Logistics Branch chief, said, "61-0007 has fewer hours and is in excellent condition. In fact, according to one of the maintainers working at AMARG, this plane is in better shape than some of the ones currently in the fleet." "This (re-commissioning of a B-52) has never been done in Air Force history," said retired Chief Master Sgt. Timothy Finch, a longtime member of the B-52 community, who now works at Global Strike Command. "Everyone on the team is very excited." Col. Keith Schultz, commander of the 307th Operations Group, 307th Bomb Wing at Barksdale AFB, will pilot the historic flight from the "Boneyard" to Barksdale. Colonel Schultz has flown the B-52 since 1980 and has a multitude of See GHOST I Page 11 Drunk driver sentenced to 18 years for fatality Former Airman involved in drunk-driving death tells life-changing story By CHRIS MCCANN Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson Public Affairs OINT BASE ELMENDORF-RICHARDSON, Alaska — He was born Itj into an Air Force family, moving around from Florida, to Okinawa, then to Oklahoma. "My parents were strict," said Lane Wyatt, a former airman first class and clientsystems technician stationed at Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska. His father, a retired Air Force major, started off as an enlisted Airman before commissioning. His parents inculcated values, but for a while, Wyatt said, he slipped. "I knew I was going wild when I got out of high school," Wyatt said. "I had to straighten up, and the military was the best option." He enlisted in the Air Force and his parents came to the ceremony when he graduated from basic military training at Joint Base San Antonio-Lackland, Texas. "They were happy — they thought I was party-crazy, and I flipped the script on them," he said. "I was planning on going to college, and before I'd said I wasn't going to go. I wanted to be a scuba instructor, so I was figuring out what I had to do to get there." For his first duty station, Wyatt was assigned to the 673rd Communications Squadron at Elmendorf where he took to his job immediately. One senior NCO said Wyatt appeared to be on the fast track to achieve his dream of being a chief master sergeant. But that dream disappeared when Wyatt made the choice to drive drunk — killing Citari Townes-Sweatt, a 20-year-old woman. On June 29, 2013, former Airman 1st Class Lane Wyatt and a couple of his friends decided to hang out at the home of another friend who'd just returned from a deployment. They later decided to go out for the evening, so they dropped off their cars and called a taxi. "We just had fun," he said. "It was a guy's night out. I left my car; I didn't plan on driving... The plan was to go home and crash out." At some point later, the group decided to go dancing at a bar in the area where they ran into an Airman Wyatt knew from base. As the evening was coming to a close, Wyatt and his compatriots called Joint Base Against Drunk Driving, an Elmendorfbased volunteer organization that offers free rides home to service members. Not wanting the fun to stop, they invited the newcomer, and the girl he was hanging out with, to join them. They returned safely to the house, where they listened to music and goofed off. Sometime after 4 a.m., the new Airman and the girl he was hanging out with decided they wanted to head home, which was about a half-mile away. "I decided I'd give them a ride," Wyatt said. "I thought I was good to drive. I thought I was fine." His friends protested, but ultimately they all piled into his Chrysler 300 and were on their way, laughing and joking. While on their journey, they stopped at a red light where Wyatt said someone pulled up beside them and revved the engine as if they wanted to race. He did it back, in jest, before they started through the intersection. Though he didn't actually race, the other car fell behind. "I remember coming up to a green light," he said. "Then it turned yellow." He wasn't sure whether to speed through the intersection or try to stop. According to prosecutors, Wyatt was doing 50 to 55 mph when he opted to go through the light. "I didn't see anyone, I just DAVID BEDARD /U.S. Air Force Former Airman 1st Class Lane Wyatt recounts the night of June 30, 2013, when he killed Citari Townes-Sweatt in a drunk-driving accident. Wyatt was sentenced Dec. 19 to 18 years in prison. saw lights," Wyatt said. The next thing Wyatt remembered was waking up draped over the steering wheel, his nose bleeding. He got out of the car, as did his friends. "I just stood there and looked, trying to take it in... I thought they hit us," he said. One of the other Airman asked how he was doing. "It was like after an explosion in a movie, when there's no sound, just the ringing," he said. "I had no idea what to do. The girl was in the back seat and there was blood on her face, so we tried to get her out and calm her down. "I just remember standing there, not knowing what to do... People were yelling at me to stay where I was. I told my friend I was going to jail. I was terrified," he continued. Shortly after the accident, the police showed up. "I didn't want my friends to get in trouble," he said. "I said they didn't know I had been drinking." The police took him to the Anchorage Correctional Center, where they asked about the evening's events. His blood alcohol concentration was 0.196. When they were done, Wyatt asked for his phone and called his father. "He told me to stay calm," Wyatt recalled. "Neither of us realized how serious it was. I didn't know anyone was seriously injured or anything." When the police officer returned, he placed Wyatt under arrest for one count of driving under the influence, three counts of assault in the third degree, four counts of assault in the first degree, and manslaughter. He was shocked. He later called his supervisor, Staff Sgt. Corina Arangure. "I was pretty hysterical," he said. "I told her the charges and I asked her to call my parents. And then I sat. They let me walk around, but I didn't want to be seen. It was my first time in jail. "I felt horrible. I spent the next few hours crying on the floor of the cell. A mental health provider came and asked me about it and all I could say was, `Someone died, someone died.' " Townes-Sweatt was killed almost instantly in the crash. Her four passengers sustained serious injuries, which led to the first-degree assault charges. Wyatt's own three passengers had superficial injuries, adding up to the three counts of third- degree assault. "She was the designated driver," Wyatt said, tears spilling down his face. "And I feel like the trash of the Earth. It's one of those things that's unforgivable. A lowlife does that, and that's not me." Master Sgt. Paul Kodiak was the communication squadron's acting first sergeant. He had known Wyatt as an Airman in another section, but didn't really meet him until that day in jail. "The reality of the situation really hit me when that second door closed behind me," Kodiak said. "He couldn't answer a lot of things because of the investigation, but he said, 'I'm not that kind of guy, Sergeant Kodiak.' ... I sat and talked with him until they kicked me out. It was only about 45 minutes — not long enough... I left there empty." Wyatt was freed on bail after about six months, and was able to return to work. He had an ankle monitor and a third-party custodian — a guardian who, outside of work, could never leave his side. See SENTENCED I Page 10 |