George F. Ruth USNR
People stopped to watch the white-haired old man salute the F6F Hellcat. All eyes misted at the tribute given from a Naval Aviator to the plane he hadn’t seen that closely in over sixty years. That moment was the culmination of why we came. What started as a trip to a museum for a World War II veteran became a memorable experience for all of us.
It started on a summer day on a New Hampshire airpark where my husband and I host an annual fly-in. Our neighbor, George Ruth was there as usual to check out the action (and the dessert table). George met our friends from Florida, Mikey and Adrianne and soon after, they were speeding away in a golf cart to see his ‘I Love Me’ wall of aviation pictures and mementoes. It came up that George’s stuff belonged in the Naval Aviation Museum in Pensacola and he said he had never been. So Mikey and Adrianne invited George to Florida and volunteered to escort him to the museum.
Mikey and Adrianne returned home to Florida and called to tell me about their discussion with George about the Naval Aviation Museum. It was a great idea but George was pretty frail; could he make the trip? He would need someone to travel with and that’s where Nancy came in the picture. Nancy lives down the taxiway from George and she looks out for him and even takes him on her flying lessons with her husband. We were able to assure George that we would travel with him to Pensacola and he finally agreed. He especially liked the idea of traveling with two “young lovely ladies.” After some schedule juggling, an October travel date was set.
The big day finally came and George was like a kid on Christmas Eve. We arrived at the airport with plenty of time and it was there where the first of many special events occurred. Since I’m an airline pilot, it is common courtesy to introduce yourself to the crew that is flying. After the introductions, I mentioned that we were taking a WWII Navy Fighter Pilot to see his museum in Pensacola. The Captain was also a Navy Fighter Pilot and was honored to have such a special passenger on his flight. He came back in the cabin and personally welcomed George and thanked him for his service to our country. Then, he made an announcement over the PA and the passengers gave a warm round of applause. We were touched by the Captain’s remarks and the passengers’ appreciation which set the tone for the trip.
The day dawned brisk and sunny and the drive to the museum was marked by the Blue Angels Navy Flight Demonstration Team flying overhead. We were lucky to enter the Naval Air Station just in time to see their practice flight. Adrianne had made special arrangements for our arrival and so we were met at the museum by the curator, Hill Goodspeed. Hill had a special treat for George; a hydraulic lift was standing by to raise George up to an airplane he flew, the F6F Hellcat. But first, the Blue Angels had arrived at the museum to sign autographs. George met one of the Blue Angels and it was gratifying to see the young fighter pilot pay his respects to the elder.
Museum staff and our group trained our cameras on George as he was raised to the Hellcat cockpit. Visitors stopped to watch the event and there were a few whispers of “who is that?” from the crowd. It was George’s fifteen minutes of fame. After reminiscing for a few minutes, George stood at attention, rendered a smart salute and then asked to come down. If he were able, that old fighter pilot would have climbed right into that cockpit.
But George was feeling a little shaky so we all agreed it was good time to have lunch. We walked over to the Cubi Point Officers Club (which is housed in its entirety in the museum) for a bite. After lunch, we went to the museum library so George could participate in the museum’s living history project. Curatorial Staffer Steve Heffernan was compiling first person accounts of Naval Aviators on video for future generations to enjoy. George was asked about flying the Wildcat and the Hellcat. George told us about how you could tell a new Wildcat pilot? He was the aircraft with the nose porpoising up and down after take-off. This was because it took some practice to raise the gear (with a crank) with one hand and fly with the other. It was like rubbing your belly and patting your head at the same time.
Then we got another treat. After the interview, Steve told us that the museum had acquired all the Naval Aviator Training records from WWII and he might be able to locate George’s record. He warned that many records had been damaged or destroyed in a recent hurricane but if we were lucky, maybe George’s record was intact.
We saw all we could and took many pictures. Once, I was trying to take a picture of George in front of his airplane and had to ask some visitors to move. They were more than happy to oblige and graciously thanked George for his service. Although slightly embarrassed by their sentiments, I noticed George stood a little bit straighter for that picture.
It was a long day so we headed out for dinner. You don’t keep an 84-year old man out all night although he joked with Mikey that he might be up for some bar-hopping. We convinced George that we were tired so we made our way to the hotel. There was a package waiting at the front desk for George. Yes it was his Training Record and it was in mint condition. Steve Heffernan had sent Training Records to WWII veterans or their families but had not had the opportunity to give the airman his record in person. Given the age of a WWII veteran, the chance to reunite an airman with his record is truly a rare event. So we spoke to Steve and he invited us to return to the museum before we left. But George was pretty spent and a little overwhelmed so he declined. Instead, we invited Steve to our hotel for coffee before we left. The men had a nice chat while we hovered around; worried that spilled coffee would ruin the Training Record that had survived time and hurricanes.
The Training Record remained unscathed so we packed it up and flew home. At every turn, we were met with respect and kind words for George. We worried about George handling the trip but he made it through with flying colors. And what started as a trip for one WWII veteran became a memorable journey for all.
In the months following the trip, George’s health deteriorated to the point where he needed to move to a nursing home. But he still made it to our fly-in; the sound of airplanes was music to his ears. And a few weeks later, George took the final flight west. Three days after George passed away, Nancy soloed. She didn’t consider it a solo flight though; she knows that she had a WWII Navy Fighter Pilot beside her the whole time. On our last visit, George remarked that it was a good thing that we went on that trip to Pensacola. I told him yes it was George, it certainly was.
By Kelly A. Jeffries