Johnny Whittenberger, late of Wabash and Logansport, now manages an air service at Kokomo. In addition to the fact that the Wabash airport bears his name, Johnny has one other claim to the Sky Writing hall of fame.

He is one of the only pilots I know who ever talked back to a group of people on the ground while he was in flight!

Johnny flew at Rochester a few years ago and owned a 40-horsepower Club. This is about the smallest, lightest thing that flies, next to a glider. The old 40 h.p. model was oftimes referred to as an "ironing board with a Maytag motor."

On the Sunday that Dean Wakefield was going to dedicate "Wake Field" at Huntington, Whittenberger, Earl Hooten, Wayne and Helen Outcelt, Bob Hogue, Howard Dillingham, Jack Mowrey, Bud Case, and many of the Civil Air Patrol cadets went to Huntington to help dedicate the place. Mud was knee deep. A dirty, low overcast kept the lid on all day.

Before taking off from Rochester, Johnny impishly declared that he was going to fly "over the top" in his flying ironing board. No one took him seriously until he failed to show at Huntington. We waited and waited, scanning the low clouds for Johnny. Finally we saw his little Cub clawing its way upwind, sailing along just under the overcast.

Johnny's story was a beauty. He had gone way upstairs over the top of the clouds and put-putted his way for an hour until he thought he was over Huntington. He gingerly felt his way down through the soup, broke out at less than 1,000 feet over a big tomato field.

In the field were six people. Johnny was lost. Having a very practical idea, Johnny floated down, opened the door and hollered: "Which way is Huntington?" Six different fingers pointed six different directions. Disgusted, friend Johnny tried it again, this time just skimming the tomato plants.

"Which way is Huntington? Six different directions, the folks pointed. Three times pilot and observers went through their little act. Not to be outdone, Johnny glided in for the last time, swung open the door and made an awful face at the confused people below.

Instead of the question, Johnny yelled his own directions: "Go to ____, you so and sos," and flew away, hopping over barns and trees and hopping mad!

There isn't any point to the story, but I've had many a laugh thinking of those people getting told-off from the air. --And Johnny hunting Huntington!

Folks who were sight-seeing at Municipal airport Sunday got an unscheduled airshow when Joe Carlin, Freddy Strauss and Cliff Reitzel got into a friendly little contest who could make a Stearman do the mostest tricks.

Observers saw all the usual aerobatics with inverted flight, inverted turns, one and one -half snaps and a few other things thrown in. Rentzel, being very promotion-minded had so much fun he promises special antics every Sunday afternoon at Municipal.

Pilots and aviation-minded folks from everywhere in Indiana are invited to the big aerial get-together at Bunker Hill the Fourth of July. You may fly in or drive in. Prizes are being awarded various arrivals and a swell time will be had all day. It is a family day, so bring the kids.

There will be swimming at the big pool, eats at the cafeteria and special programs, vaudeville and other things in the show palace. Bunker Hill is the tremendous former naval base just south of Peru on road 31.

Smiling Jack Doswell, Stan Arnolt's pilot, announced Sunday that the winner of the $50 cash award, given by Mr. Arnolt for the best Warsaw Aero Club emblem design was Kenny Linn, versatile aircraft and engine mechanic at Municipal airport. More than a dozen top-notch designs were submitted. Kenny's was the front view of an airplane with a wind-sock overhead, containing the name, "Warsaw Aero Club". Congratulations, Kenny.

F.M. from the stratosphere, and television too--is coming. right now a converted B-29 has been cruising at 25,000 feet broadcasting F.M. and television performances on the east coast. With this unique system of transmission, clear reception is afforded a radius of 500 miles. The recent convention was so broadcast. So was the Louis-Walcott fight.

You know, F.M. is a beautifully clear method of receiving a radio broadcast, but the wave runs in a straight line, limiting the area served by a normal station to somewhere between 40 and 80 miles--straightline distance.

Now, with this new system, the broadcast antenna is carried to a height of 25,000 feet and signals travel straight and true for better than 500 miles. It is estimated that eight ships in the air could cover a coast-to- coast broadcast. Of course, you can get coast-to-coast F.M. reception right now, as it is broadcast from ground station to station, but backers believe the high-flying B-29 method is cheaper.

Warsaw Daily Times June 28, 1948