BAR STORY #1:  From Jake Lamkins

Somebody has to get this section started so I'll do it. 

The bar closest to FYV in CN days was The White Star 'bout half a mile north of 
runway 16. It had a dirt floor in those days and was really rough. I've driven into 
the parking lot and seen the "boys" having fun throwing rocks at some fool under 
his truck where they had chased him. 

Jerry Parkhill, the HRO manager, came visiting one day so Don Enos, the FYV 
manager, and agent Dick James took him to the White Star for some fun. When 
the three walked in, the place was jammed with rowdy trade just off work from 
construction sites, chickens plants and such. 

Jerry looked around and yelled over the din, "I can whip any sonuvabitch in this 

Both Don & Dick confessed later it scared the spittle outa them. There was a dead silence, then the biggest ugliest one of the bunch stood up and said, "There ain't 
no sonuvabitches in here, mister!" 

Jerry started bellowing that in that case drinks were on him. 

You have to know Jerry to appreciate this story. Jerry's the guy who held a Bowie knife to a FL VP's throat at a big conference in DEN and forced him to drink 

After he drank a big glug which nearly killed him, Jerry gave him the knife and 
said, "OK, now make me drink some!" Jake 

Jake Lamkins stopped by the bar and told this story .....

and that got Frosty to thinkin' ..... so he followed Jake with a story of his own ....

We've all got memories and stories ... leave one in the Guest Book and I'll post it here for all to enjoy. 

You can also email the story to me at
BAR STORY #2:   From Capt'n Jack "Frosty" Frost ..........

Jack Burt and I were in a 737 headed for a Grand Forks layover and running an
hour or so late into Rapid City. Then to make matters worse, the starter on the
right engine wouldn't work so we're delayed even longer. After about an hour or
so Maintenance came in a Lear but it was past the bar, security and restaurant
closing times so the folks had to stay on the airplane (where naturally the bar
was open).

One of them was a Doctor from Fargo who had been to Vail that day to buy a
Condo or such. He parked himself at the front galley along with another guy or
two and Jack. I excused myself and went to the wheelhouse where I could just
barely hear his loud dissertation on the price of Vail properties and how he was
really being inconvenienced because he had a Tonsillectomy scheduled at 6
AM, a Hysterectomy at 8 AM and some other "ectomy" at 10 AM, etc., etc., ad

After about an hour I went down to see how things were coming along. When I
got back on the Doctor asked "How are things going, Skipper?" I told him they
were just about done and we would be going shortly. "THEY? How many
mechanics does it take to fix this thing?, he roared. I replied that there were
two; one to do the work and the other to inspect the work.

The Doctor started in again, "I've never heard of such a waste of money as
paying two mechanics to do one guy's work. No wonder airfares are so
outrageously high and........"

Jack interrupted him by smilingly saying, "Doctor , this is Aviation, not
Medicine." The Doctor went back and sat down. Not another word was heard
from him all the way to Fargo. I'm glad I wasn't an ectomy patient of his the
next morning!

BAR STORY #3:   A Harvey Chaddock story from Captain Don Welch

Good Afternoon Guys,

Harvey and I spent many hours in a DC-3. I remember one day in particular. We
left DEN-COS-PUB-AMA-OKC- etc to MKC. Wind at COS was 120 degrees at
30-45. Lockett was on the ground and when we received landing clearance he
piped in with, "Lots of luck".

When we departed AMA there were a lot of thunderstorms along the route and
Harv chose to fly low. About a thousand feet above the ground and we wandered
here and there.

When I called in range OKC we were advised that dispatch had sent a teletype to
AMA to recall us because of the tornado warning issued. We were so low that
we could not hear AMA.

Harv flew that leg without a ripple in the air and no rain.

When Harv heard that we had been recalled to AMA we were in the clear east of
the weather and he wondered if "shouldn't we get a little skeered".

BAR STORY #4:  The following stories about Bill Medcalf was sent to me by Renee (Barron) Thompson and reprinted here with her and Captain Hugh Barron's permission ....

This is Renee (Barron) Thompson and I sent my Dad, Hugh Barron your email
about Bill Medcalf and he was so sad. My Dad writes to all of us (his five kids)
from time to time his thoughts and I thought I would share this with you. It
brought both a smile and a tear………….

Bill Medcalf................rugged outdoorsman,

We both flew for Central Airlines. The typical Central pilot was as untypical as
any group of men you have ever seen. Bill was about my size but strong as a bull.

He was once seen in a fist fight with Carl Ade (about 6'3") that started in the Gar
Hole, a bar in our Little Rock Hotel ..... worked its way through the lobby and
into the elevator and up to the upper floors. I don't know who won but I bet it
wasn't Carl.

Being the outdoors man he was prompted to write a book (ala Robert Ruark)
about some of his experiences.

He bought a wild life noisemaker designed to lure raccoons. Bill had climbed
over a barbed wire fence and proceeded to operate the lure. From out of
nowhere about 6 coons pounced on him and nearly ate him alive. He had to have
the dreaded series of rabies shots.

He was a bow hunter. One day he was firing at a target and the arrow broke while
bow was fully flexed and he promptly shot the broken arrow through his wrist.
So he goes to the hospital looking like Steve Martin with an arrow sticking out
both sides of his wrist. It is nearly impossible to shoot yourself with a bow and

Once in the DC-3 he had his hunting dog with him all day long on the way to
Kansas City. The pup had to poop and did it into the Co-pilot's flight bag. Yuk

He went to Alaska to hunt with one of his best friends. The bush plane flew them
and all their gear to a remote lake and planned to pick them up in a week. The
first night, Bill's partner wandered away from camp and never returned. Bill
searched for him for a week and never found him.

After going back to Keller, he could not rest and took a couple of his buddies
back to Alaska and searched again. After a couple of days they found the
remains of his buddy minus what the bear had eaten.

He was reparing a leaky roof on the top of his camper. He accidently fell off and
lay on his back for hours with broken bones until Nan found him.

Bill was generous as any person I know. Greg and I took advantage of his
generousity for about a year. Bill rented his airplane to us for $8 dollars per hour.
I know he lost on that deal.

He landed at the wrong Airport going into Salt Lake one low visibility day. Things
were never the same for Bill after that.

Bill died yesterday.

BAR STORY #5:  This story came from Lela Edge's Son .. Sam Mead

Hi Phil- 

My mom was a stewardess for Central Airlines in the early to mid 50s (my dad 
and I are the reasons she had to quit!). 

Anyway, I was wondering if you knew  any of the old gang that she might have
flown with or could see if anybody  remembers her. Her name is Lela (Mae) Edge
and she lived in Oklahoma City. 

From what I hear, she just loved being a stew (still has her old uniform, wings, 
etc.) and many of the pilots were her buddies. 

One of her favorite stories is that  she carried around a bunch of old silver dollars
in her purse and every time they  landed, she'd say something to the effect of
"Well, I guess I'll have to spend  some of my silver dollars on (insert name of
whatever she was buying, here)!"  and almost every time, one of the flight crew
would give her some cash and say,  "Here Edge, but you gotta pay me back on

I have no idea if she ever  paid anyone back, but I have the silver dollars in my
coin collection to this day! 

For her birthday a few years back, my dad took one of her old Central decals 
(like this one: and had 
it silkscreened onto t-shirts for all of us. She loved it! 

Thanks for any info you can give me! 

-Sam Mead