by Bob Alvis, special to Aerotech News
Pulling up to Edwards’ West Gate parking area on March 23, I found I was a bit early for the Flight Test Museum ground breaking ceremony.

I found myself staring out at the wide expanse of desert to the southeast of Century Circle, looking pretty much as it has for generations. I was reflecting back on this view, shared by thousands of commuters who squinted into the sun rising across the lake bed, as they headed off to work for one of the many contractors that populated the base in the golden age of flight test. Back in those days, they never encountered a gate and a guard when they navigated that bend in the road. The parking lots filled quickly at the hangers and offices. Thus started the parade of men and women who filed past the guard “shack” to start their days of excellence.

I knew that the amazing men and women, the risk takers of flight test, would be getting their moment in the sun at the ground breaking — but I was on another mission. My early arrival put me in the correct mindset to seek what I so wanted to find: the journeyman.

Making my way around in the crowd, it was not the brass and flight suits I was looking to talk to. It was the craftsmen and office personnel who kept Muroc and Edwards moving forward every day; the ones who made all the history possible, while their families were being raised from one end of the Antelope Valley to the other, the ones who were not in the headlines, but the ones who picked up the evening newspaper and read about the results of their skills, the invisible hands that built and serviced the winged history of Edwards.

Dave Stoddard was standing off by the F-104 display, sporting his weathered X-15 hat and taking in the sights when I struck up a conversation about the new museum and what his part in the base’s history was all about.

Like so many, he was humble about his involvement from the time he first set foot on the base in the 1950s until the time he called it quits. Working for various contractors, he never had a time when he wasn’t busy doing something to support the mission. If you had a skill and were good at it, you had a job in this industry. The bosses loved a proven commodity and with so much competition between projects, it wasn’t hard to keep a job if you had the skills.

I think that speaks a lot about the people of flight test. In my life I’ve known many families growing up who’s Moms and Dads were a continuous part of Edwards life and never seemed to lack employment. I’m sure that comes from their dedication and skills as master craftsmen. Later in life I became good friends with many men  and women from the greatest generation and I found no shortage of that “can do” spirit of that generation at  Muroc/Edwards entwined in the day-to-day operations. The majority of those at Edwards served during World War II, from the pilots to the support staff, and the lessons learned during the war years served our nation well over the skies of the Antelope Valley and in the operations out at that dry lake bed.

So the new Flight Test Museum owes a lot to the stream of headlights that guided the thousands who made their way at daybreak to the base that pioneered work in science and technology for decades and launched us off into new frontiers. The museum will have a very important part to play in our nation’s future. We want it to be all-inclusive when it comes to teaching our future craftsman the importance of being diligent and persevering in the never-ending quest to find perfection in design and application.

Looking around the crowd at the dedication, I could see and feel that the spirit was strong and that pride was evident in all who attended.

When the chain of speakers finished up and the crowd started to disperse, you could feel still feel a tangible sense of pride and history in the air. The older folks who lingered behind wanted to hold on just a bit longer to the memories of the working class, family and their history leading up to this moment.

The perfect ending for the day, for me, came from a lady named Margaret Kennedy. Sitting alone in a chair, she spoke of her husband in a way that will touch your hearts.

“My husband drove these roads pretty much his whole life. Now that he’s gone and I have just the memories, I felt I owed it to him to come out here for this. He was a great man who was good at his job, but never got the recognition that so many others got. Pete died just last year and he felt that this museum would be the best representation of his life’s work.”

Kennedy continued, “You know, in all those years I never once traveled out here to the base without him … As I look at that road he traveled over every day for decades, all I can remember was sending him out the door every day with his thermos of hot coffee and lunchbox and his smiling face when he walked in the door at night. He was my hero and I loved him so much, and this trip is for him.”

As I took her hand she started to cry, and I admit I was right there with her. All of us who grew up in the valley in families that had ties to Edwards remember just how special our lives were. Mrs. Kennedy let her tears tell us all that the roads may still be there, but the people who drove them many years ago were not only the very best and special, but also family.

Congratulations to the staff and supporters who are making the museum a reality, and a big thanks to all those who laid the groundwork for the teaching facility that will be part of it, which will teach our future pioneers the necessity of being the very best and being dedicated to your profession. Your hands will no longer be invisible as our communities, nation and the world remember you and your contributions to making the world a better place through the advancement of aviation.

Until next time, Bob out …