thedrifter
10-14-05, 05:28 AM
Not a good day for flying
By: JOHN RAIFSNIDER - For The North County Times
MIRAMAR ---- A concerned look came over the normally cheerful face of Julie Nistico Reesman. "I don't like it when he's gone this long," she said Thursday morning of her husband, Bill Reesman. "He should have been back by now."
Reesman was the pilot of one of two vintage Soviet-made jets the couple had brought to the Miramar Marine Corps Air Station for this weekend's air show. Bill Reesman was conducting a "media day" flight and was already more than a few minutes late.
No sooner had those worrisome words left her lips when Julie Reesman noticed a fleet of emergency vehicles headed toward the end of the runway. Still, the sight of fire engines and rescue vehicles gave her no reason, even at that point, to think the race to the edge of the airfield had anything to do with her tardy husband, who was piloting a two-seat trainer version of a MiG-17 vintage fighter jet.
Minutes later, though, when two uniformed Marines arrived at the place where the couple's other MiG was parked on the Miramar tarmac, Julie Reesman's face went flush. When two Marines come calling, it's never good news and Julie knew it. After a short conversation with the Marines, Julie moved quickly to a waiting military vehicle.
"John, I'm sorry, but I gotta go," she yelled to me over the deafening din of jet engines running in the background. "Bill's brakes failed on the airplane and he just ran off the end of the runway. I don't think you'll be flying today. I'm really sorry."
As Julie Reesman and several base workers hurried to the place where the stranded MiG sat among weeds and gopher holes on the west side of the base, Bill Reesman and his media day passenger, Rob Worden of KOGO radio, were arriving back on the tarmac, courtesy of one of the first responders. The Reesmans had missed each other in passing.
Bill Reesman waved as he and Worden, both unharmed, walked toward me. "I've got some good news and some bad news for you, John," he said, smiling broadly.
"The bad news is you won't be flying today. The good news is you won't be flying today ---- in a broken airplane. We lost the brakes on the aircraft and it's stuck about a thousand feet off the end of the runway. Sorry, we can't take you up today. I know you've waited a long time and that you really wanted to fly."
What to say?
This guy just overshot the end of an active military runway in a jet fighter and he's more concerned with me being unable to fly than his own near-brush with death?
But that's Bill Reesman. And for that matter, Rob Worden, too.
When they climbed from the aircraft, Worden said afterward, the two men put their arms around each other and said in agreement: "Now that was some wild ride."
Ellie
By: JOHN RAIFSNIDER - For The North County Times
MIRAMAR ---- A concerned look came over the normally cheerful face of Julie Nistico Reesman. "I don't like it when he's gone this long," she said Thursday morning of her husband, Bill Reesman. "He should have been back by now."
Reesman was the pilot of one of two vintage Soviet-made jets the couple had brought to the Miramar Marine Corps Air Station for this weekend's air show. Bill Reesman was conducting a "media day" flight and was already more than a few minutes late.
No sooner had those worrisome words left her lips when Julie Reesman noticed a fleet of emergency vehicles headed toward the end of the runway. Still, the sight of fire engines and rescue vehicles gave her no reason, even at that point, to think the race to the edge of the airfield had anything to do with her tardy husband, who was piloting a two-seat trainer version of a MiG-17 vintage fighter jet.
Minutes later, though, when two uniformed Marines arrived at the place where the couple's other MiG was parked on the Miramar tarmac, Julie Reesman's face went flush. When two Marines come calling, it's never good news and Julie knew it. After a short conversation with the Marines, Julie moved quickly to a waiting military vehicle.
"John, I'm sorry, but I gotta go," she yelled to me over the deafening din of jet engines running in the background. "Bill's brakes failed on the airplane and he just ran off the end of the runway. I don't think you'll be flying today. I'm really sorry."
As Julie Reesman and several base workers hurried to the place where the stranded MiG sat among weeds and gopher holes on the west side of the base, Bill Reesman and his media day passenger, Rob Worden of KOGO radio, were arriving back on the tarmac, courtesy of one of the first responders. The Reesmans had missed each other in passing.
Bill Reesman waved as he and Worden, both unharmed, walked toward me. "I've got some good news and some bad news for you, John," he said, smiling broadly.
"The bad news is you won't be flying today. The good news is you won't be flying today ---- in a broken airplane. We lost the brakes on the aircraft and it's stuck about a thousand feet off the end of the runway. Sorry, we can't take you up today. I know you've waited a long time and that you really wanted to fly."
What to say?
This guy just overshot the end of an active military runway in a jet fighter and he's more concerned with me being unable to fly than his own near-brush with death?
But that's Bill Reesman. And for that matter, Rob Worden, too.
When they climbed from the aircraft, Worden said afterward, the two men put their arms around each other and said in agreement: "Now that was some wild ride."
Ellie