Week 28 - Leisure Time

After a few long days flying Douglas DC-3 routes for North Central Airlines in the 1950s, Kenny found his way back to calm in a much smaller cockpit: the kitchen table.  The DC-3 demanded constant attention—radio calls crackling in, weather shifting without much warning, and the steady responsibility of carrying passengers safely through an era when flying still felt a little raw and unpredictable. By the time he parked the real aircraft for the day, his mind was often still running at cruise power, full of checklists, engine sounds, and invisible crosswinds.

That’s where model airplanes came in. Building and flying them in his leisure time gave him a different kind of control—no passengers, no radios, just balsa wood, glue, and the satisfying logic of something he could shape with his own hands. He would sand wing ribs until they were smooth as bone, fit the fuselage together piece by piece, and let the familiar smell of dope and Ambroid glue replace the noise of the flight line. When he took a finished model out to an open field, every circle it flew felt like a release, a small echo of the sky he worked in but without the pressure that came with it. For Kenny, those models weren’t just a hobby—they were a quiet reset button between the demands of real aviation and the simple joy of making something fly just because he could.

U-Control Airplanes

left - Profile Model (Sterling kit) 

white - Unknown

in front of it is a Smootie, then a P47 and then a Messerschmidt

right back - Profile Model and in front of it is a 'Widowmaker' twin-engine model

Ken made those models and in the early days it was called 'free flight', The plane had a small motor, you tweaked the elevator up a smidgen and then turned the rudder just a bit left or right, and you helped to push it into the air. And if it was a successful flight the plane would slowly circle gaining altitude continuously until did full circles and then in about two minutes it would head to the ground. Hopefully it landed on its wheels, but usually it landed on a wingtip or its roof. Then if it was okay, you repeated the process. If it was damaged too badly, you headed home to repair it and try again another day.  

Kenny with 'free flight' model

Ken passed the love of working with his hands onto his youngest son. Danny loved the complex system of building them. But instead of 'free flight' he used the U-control method of two lines of wire that kept the plane within an easy distance for flying and for landing and not having to chase it down. The process started innocently enough—some balsa wood, a plan sheet, and big dreams—but the moment the glue came out, things got serious. That old model cement and dope didn’t just “smell strong,” it announced itself to the entire neighborhood like a chemical parade. One whiff and suddenly everyone in the house knew you were building something important or possibly dissolving your brain cells. Fingers got stuck to wings, wings got stuck to tables, and somehow the dog got involved in places it definitely shouldn’t have been.

In the open fields in Columbiaville, Michigan Dan and his friend Andy Robinson loved flying their U-control airplanes together, often turning an ordinary afternoon into an unofficial air race. They would tie streamers to the tail of their aircraft and attempt to slice the other persons during their race. Since Dan was the taller of the two and Andy was considerably shorter, they developed an entertaining routine to keep their control lines from crossing. While Dan stood in the center flying his plane, Andy had to hustle in circles around him, his shorter legs working overtime to keep up with the airplanes overhead. It looked more like a comedy act than an aviation event, but somehow, they managed to avoid tangled lines and successfully race each other through the sky. Anyone watching probably got as much entertainment from Andy's frantic laps around Dan as they did from the airplanes themselves.

Dan with RC trainer in Romulus, MI 1983

Dan also began to learn Remote-Control when it was just becoming popular. Following the many hours of building the plane, you then placed the 'skin' on it and then ironed it, using a small triangle shaped iron that was used just for model building. Or your wife's regular iron if you could talk her into letting you use it. 

Unfortunately, life got in the way, and he quit building and flying them in the late 1980's.

Barbie

NOTE:  Building a U-Connect model airplane was a careful, hands-on process that started with selecting lightweight materials, usually balsa wood for the frame because it was strong yet easy to shape. Builders would follow simple plans to cut ribs, spars, and fuselage sections, often using a razor blade or hobby knife and sanding each piece until it fit cleanly. The structure was then assembled over a flat work surface, glued together with early model cement or wood glue, and pinned in place to dry so it wouldn’t warp. Once the basic airframe was complete, builders added the U-Connect control system—typically a mechanical linkage or early control-line setup that allowed the pilot to influence the aircraft’s movement in flight. The wings and fuselage were then covered with tissue paper or thin silk span, tightened with light moisture and sealed with dope to create a smooth, aerodynamic skin. Finally, a small glow or gas engine was mounted at the front, carefully aligned for balance, and tested repeatedly to ensure the model would fly true when launched.