We were on Okinawa from 1969-1972.
At least
twice a week I drove down to the road closest to the flight line to watch
one of those beautiful planes take off or land. It always
made my heart swell with pride and my
stomach quivery to see it. I never tired of it. There is one on Lackland in
San Antonio and I think it is the Habu, one of the ones in
Okinawa. It has the coiled snake painted on its tail.
Some of us in the 456th AEMS were asked for TDY to the 9th SRW to work on the SR-71. OH Hell yes I said to the shop chief. My "work" consisted of doing a R&R of my black box while having several rifles pointed at me. Great fun.
I love the Blackbird.
In other words, the engines had three settings; acceleration, idle, and off. The engines will keep accelerating until they fail (explode) so no one really knows what the top speed is.
Like the author, I too graduated in 1966, from Oroville High School ( a small town roughly 25 miles north of Marysville/Beale AFB). I worked at a local supermarket bagging groceries and would often get home late, heat something up and watch a little TV at my parents home high on a hill with a pair of huge vista windows facing south. One evening just before I sat down I noticed a bright light in the sky out the window and for a year or so though I’d seen a UFO that lit up the sky and climbed so rapidly I thought surely we didn’t have aircraft that could do that. A year or so later as I sheepishly recounted my experience to a guy I met at Yuba College (just down the road from Beale) who was an Air Force brat with a father in the Air Force at Beale, he proceeded to tell me that I undoubtedly had seen the new SR-71 Blackbird. So once more I considered myself completely sain again. In the months that followed we frequently saw the Blackbird flying around the area and after JC at Yuba I decided that the Air Force was for me in 1968. And even in an era of anti-military, spit on baby killers I was, and still am proud to have served. Next to fathering and raising three fine children I consider my Air Force service the finest thing I ever did. I’ve often thought, in the last seven years, what I pity I’m too old to be of much use but I still feel I could help in some way if there was but a plan for guys like me. Oh well, I ‘m off on a tangent again. God Bless pilots like this, Kelly Johnson and the Skunk Works!
WOW!!!
Wish I could tell you all something about how much trouble we had at reading out and exploiting the vast (understatement) amount of imagery (photos for you non-intel types) from the SR-71. But if I tried, I might get arrested. I don’t know if some of those cameras and sensors are still being used. Likely they have all gone digital and realtime. Those were the days to get rich by owning Kodak stock.
She was/is one sexy beast!!
They went to the end of the runway, got airborne, stood on their tails and went straight up disappearing in a minute. When they came in they made a seemingly slow silent circle around the base and landed without much sound until they were on the ground.These things were the stuff of SciFI big-time.
bump
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I was home that day (lived maybe 40 miles from the coast in Kalifornia) and heard the sonic boom. IIRC, it took off from Edwards, flew out over the coast around Ventura, then turned back east and put the hammer down.
I remember reading another account written by a Blackbird pilot where he describes the almost God-like feeling he got from being able to make the sun rise and set by just nudging the throttle.
I was privileged enough to work as a pre-mission programmer for the SR-71 for 5 years in the mid-late 80’s stationed at Beale. The sleds would sit it the burn-off pad after returning from missions and run out remaining fuel — the entire base would shake as that magnificent bird lit up the California night sky with blue flames. I loved to sit on my porch up in housing and watch the burn offs.
This is great. I had a professor who had clearance and was the worlds leading expert on hyperspace travel. He accidentally let it out in class that the Blackbird had crossed over Mach 6...before he told us to forget he just said that.
We lived in a small town in the high Sierra just East of Beale and would hear the Blackbirds coming in on approach to land.
I called it rolling thunder as you would never actually see the plane, just the deep rumble as it made it’s way home.
Many years later, after the Blackbird was retired, my father ended up working at the Pima air museum near Tucson. After visiting hours were over he took me on a private tour and I was able to get an up close look at this magnificent plane.
It is and always will be one of the highlights of my life and one of my fondest memories of time spent with Dad before he died.
Cheers,
knewshound