Heat shimmered in crazy waves over the runways. The sun was bearing down with all its blistering might. A tiny knot of judges could be seen standing on one end of a broad white line.

As the field tilted under the nose of the plane, each pilot thought the spot looked small, the difficulties great. A hot, blasting wind whipped unpredictably back and forth, requiring constant adjustment of the controls.

The contest of the Sky Writing Trophy was on! In spite of the heat, participants would shiver as a little rivulet of sweat started slowly, tickling its way downward across sensitive skin. Only the genuine air enthusiast would bear the discomfort. There were many who did.

An occasional puffy cumulous cloud, advance-guard of a promised cold front, would afford temporary relief. Sailing effortless through the skies, the cumulous would momentarily close the probing searching eye of the sun.

Plane after plane took off, buzzing busily upward to the prescribed 800 foot altitude. Then started that long uncertain glide around and back to the starting point. The object was to land the plane across the white line. This requires a rare combination of skill, judgment and luck. Imagine, if you will, a 2,000 pound weight supported in air by wings, which are dependent upon a certain amount of speed to maintain their lifting power. You are attempting to guess the unmarked and unseen point in the air where you should close your throttle. From this point, you hope to glide nearly three thousand feet, making two 90-degree turns, coming downward 800 feet so that your airplane coasts to a stop across a line scarcely three feet wide. Some trick, hey?

It would be like throwing your car in neutral at the Big Four railroad and trying to guess what speed to start with, to coast ten blocks east and stop without using brakes within the length of the car!

By coasting to a stop in an airplane, I mean to lose sufficient speed that the ship drops gently to the earth and sticks on three points--two wheels and tail--quits flying. Al this is done at speeds varying from 100 miles per hour to 40 miles per hour.

For this exhibition of piloting skill, Sky Writing puts up a nice gold trophy. The winner of each event gets his name engraved permanently upon it. The thing then rests in splendor in the offices of the pilot's home airport, testifying silently to his proficiency until the next event. Then the trophy rotates to a new winner.

As a result of Sunday's contest, the trophy moves from Smith Field to Municipal Airport. Junius VanCuren, of Etna Green, a fine pilot and a dandy fellow, has held the cup since last fall. He did not defend it Sunday in order to insure that it would rotate.

Marine Veteran Gene Noggle copped the cup by straddling the white line dead center on one of his two tries and by landing right next to the line on his second.

Matt Dalton, younger of the two foundry Dalton boys, took second honors when he placed a Stearman bi-plane almost across the line on two consecutive tries. Bill Orcutt slid into third place by missing completely one try, but coming back with a beautiful landing smack on the line in his second effort.

Many other pilots were riding closely on the tails of the winders. They were: Joe Carlin, (always a bridesmaid, never a bride); Bill Ettinger; Bill VanDoran, (flying mailman); Fred Strauss, Jr.; Carl Weirick; his brother, Max Weirick; Curt Broughton; E. Kaye-(E for Effort) Smith; Jake Menzie and Johnny Doyle.

The Warsaw Aero Club awarded first-place winner a pair of finely ground sun glasses; second placer a chromium plane trimmed ash tray; and third winner a fancy wooden propeller--trinket size.

Side prizes were awarded to A. Herzog, who flew in from Auburn to compete--longest distance traveled; Harold Miller, 50, of South Bend, oldest pilot entered; and Eugene Spencer, 17, of Victory Field, youngest pilot.

Without listening for the rustle of falling leaves, you can tell that fall is approaching. Airplanes are beginning to change hands. During the past week five local men became plane owners. Paul Lowman had a big week, dumping his present stock of ships, made three sales. A red T-craft went to Fred Strauss and Merl Stookey; a red nosed silver Luscombe to Max and Carl Weirick and Merl Tripp acquired a Cub on floats which no reposes on Winona Lake. Operators like to trade ships often, give their students different planes to fly. And fall is the time to do it.

Have had several inquiries about trips to the Cleveland air races, Sept. 4, 5 and 6. Regularly scheduled airlines will operate ships from Baer Field, Fort Wayne. United Airlines flies direct to Cleveland, and Chicago and Southern goes by way of Toledo. Phone number to make reservations at both offices is the same: Harrison 3352.

Also it might pay to check up at Paul Lowman's local flying service and Carlin Airways, Municipal Airport, for any "pooled" flights or charter flights going from here. Flying in takes less than two hours.

Warsaw Daily Times August 30, 1948