My Great-Grandfather, John D. Blauser

    

     Today, April 2, would have been my great-grandfather's 102nd birthday. This blog post is written in memory of him.

     Because I was traveling to Detroit the week after spring break, I decided to do the WACO tour on my own, in case I did not return in time for the class field trip. I invited my grandmother, Ginny Hawkins, along for the tour. As we drove up to Troy, I told her about the aviation class and some of the stories we had heard thus far, and she shared with me aviation stories about her father, John Blauser. Because he passed away before I was born, I never had the joy of meeting him; however, these stories brought Great-Grandpa Blauser to life in a way which I had never known before.

     John Blauser had already obtained his pilot's license prior to World War II. When the United States entered the war, John volunteered for the Army Air Force. At twenty-eight years old, he was considered too old to enlist as a combat pilot; instead, he was trained to fly transports carrying men, vehicles, and/or equipment. The Army Air Force sent him and the other transport pilots to school at multiple locations across the United States. Just as the men were ready to join the war, fate took a turn. It had been decided that the Army Air Force should include more women among their ranks, so the women took over the transport pilot jobs. The Army cancelled the men's mission and honorably discharged them. Needless to say, my great-grandfather and the other men were embarrassed. There they were, fully trained and ready to go, and they were released from service in favor of women who lacked the proper training. As a consolation to the men, the Army Air Corps offered to reenlist them under a different assignment; their options included becoming an aircraft mechanic or a glider pilot. John chose the aircraft mechanic route, and he began training at what is today Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. This evolved into his career. When he retired, he was Service Chief.

     My great-grandfather continued to fly after the war ended. He often flew my great-grandmother, Elizabeth, and my grandmother on short excursions to visit family and friends. My grandmother told me one story in particular which has always stood out in her mind. She and her parents had flown to Millersport, Ohio for a Christmas gathering with family. They landed in a corn field, which she jokingly described as a very bumpy landing. They started back for home a little later than they would have liked. John's plane was not equipped with lights or a navigation system; as my grandmother said, he navigated by looking out the window. My great-grandmother did not want to fly back that night because she knew it would be dark before they landed. (She was also a pilot and therefore understood the danger of flying and landing in the dark without lights.) Against her wishes, John decided to fly back anyway. When they reached Columbus, the sky was smoky from nearby factories, and turbulence from air pockets rocked the plane. By the time they reached New Carlisle, it was very dark, just as Elizabeth had predicted. There were no lights at the runway, which was simply made of sod and dirt; however, there was a Christmas tree in the window of a house across the street from the runway. Using the light from the Christmas tree, my great-grandfather successfully landed the plane without any complications. Elizabeth was absolutely FURIOUS, but I like to think that my great-grandfather was pleased with himself. :)