Arizona State University holds a special place in my heart. As does Tempe, Arizona, in general.
Not because I’m a rabid Sun Devils fan or fear the bigger city of Phoenix that lies just down the road.
No, my reasons are more intimate than that. You see, ASU was my first home. My parents moved me into student housing when I was but one day old. We lived in Victory Village in one of several small, squat, un-airconditioned units that had been military housing not many years before.
This was the official living arrangement ASU provided for married students with children back then. Next door was a trailer park used by married students who didn’t yet have kids.
It was a different time with very different sensibilities — a fact that comes all too clear to me whenever I wander back to that locale.
When I visited 10 years ago while traveling to San Luis Obispo to speak to a gathering of the California Pilots Association, good old Tempe was unrecognizable. It had grown considerably. What original buildings remained were mixed in with more modern architecture designed for a student body that was several times larger than it was when I lived there.
I’ve just returned from my most recent visit searching for lost memories and some sense of nostalgia in my soon to be golden years, I found little to bond with on a personal level, though I still hold Tempe and Arizona in high esteem.
Things change.
Today ASU hosts something on the order of 80,000 students with many more attending classes online. That population equates to far more people than live in the central Florida town I’ve called home for these past three or four decades.
The town I feel drawn to doesn’t really exist anymore. Sure, I can still climb “A” Mountain as students did in the old days, as they still do today. That rock pile festooned with ancient petroglyphs may be the only part of town that remains relatively unchanged from days gone by.
Nostalgia is a tricky business. What we hope to find may be long gone. What we do find may be so foreign to us we just can’t connect to it in a meaningful way.
Then again…
Just to the east of Tempe lies Mesa, Arizona. When I was a boy, these were two entirely separate towns. Today they’re both caught up in the ever-expanding urban sprawl of Phoenix. While Tempe boasts a football stadium where the Sun Devils, the NFL Cardinals, and the Rolling Stones have all done their thing, Mesa has Falcon Field (KFFZ).
This beautiful facility was originally built outside of town. Today, it’s well within the city limits.
Prosperity brings growth and all that comes with it.
Situated on the southwest corner of the field, just across North Greenfield Road from an expansive citrus grove that made this Floridian feel right at home, sits the Arizona Commemorative Air Force Museum. For anyone who feels the junction of aviation and nostalgia in their bones, the CAF hangars are a must-visit location.
To enter the facility the visitor wanders along a path flanked by small monuments on either side. These celebrate aviators of note with a connection to the great state of Arizona. Folks like the World War I phenom Frank Luke and former U.S. Senator, presidential candidate, and pilot Barry Goldwater.
Inside the mercifully air-conditioned hangar sit a collection of aircraft old and new(er) that have played a role in our lives, whether we are aware of their contributions or not.
On the lesser-known side might be the military drone sitting beside a collection of military helicopters that are as storied as they are menacing. When most people think of a drone they imagine a small quadcopter that can climb up to rooftop level with a small, utilitarian camera mounted on its belly. This ain’t that. The drone on the floor of the CAF hangar is the real deal. Military spec. A war machine that enters battle alone, its pilot miles away, safe from harm.
Most of the collection looks into history, not the future. Representing the World War I era are a couple stellar examples, including a personal favorite, a stunningly accurate reproduction of the Fokker DR1 triplane.
Knowing that none of the originals still exist, I take no offense at being presented with a replica. Especially when the workmanship and care taken to preserve this example are so exceptional.
It would be impossible to miss the big ticket items, however. Beyond the tasteful and much appreciated tip of the hat made to the Tuskegee Airmen and Women’s Air Service Pilots (WASP), I couldn’t miss the looming shape of a beautifully maintained B-17, sitting beside an equally beloved B-25, which shades an Aeronca L16 (Champ) beneath its wing. My nostalgia meter was pushing its upper limit.
As they say in late night television commercials…but wait, there’s more.
Out on the ramp I found a perfectly airworthy C-47, the military version of the venerable DC-3. The door was open. I couldn’t help but step inside to bask in the historic ambiance for a moment. Only a few steps away sat a brightly polished Beech 18, known to the U.S. Army as the C-45 Expeditor.
These aren’t aircraft any of us are likely to see on a daily basis. Unless, of course, if we happen to be volunteers with the Commemorative Air Force in Mesa, Arizona. Yes, this remarkable walk down memory lane has been brought to the wider public thanks to the efforts of some of the friendliest, most dedicated, undeniably talented men and women to ever pitch in and help pull the wagon.
When you take your next vacation, whether you’re going to the beach, the mountains, the desert, or the prairie, consider doing a search for nostalgic aviation opportunities in the area. The odds are good you’ll find something of interest, as I did on Falcon Field in Mesa, Arizona.
And don’t forget to take a pass through the gift shop. Your keepsake purchase does more than embellish your memories. The profits often go toward keeping these programs going.
Enjoy!
Back in the mid-90’s my mother and step-father retired to Mesa. So about once a year we would book a flight on SW or Alaska Airlines and fly down from Seattle and stay a week or so. I think spring time was the best time to go, for the weather is perfect and the Cactus League is beginning to ramp up, for Hohokam Field and the Cubs was always must see.
But I would always take the time to head out to Falcon Field and visit the Champlin Fighter Museum and the CAF one as well. For the Champlin was still going strong at the time and had quite the collection of vintage aircraft in two separate hangers. But most of it was sold off to the Boeing Flight Museum in 2003, which in itself is quite impressive, check it out if you are ever visiting the Seattle area.
One day I walked into the CAF hanger and parked in a corner was their German Heinkel-111 bomber. It was pretty quiet that morning, so I climbed inside and checked out the interior. It was like I was stepping back to WWII as I grabbed a mounted MG-42 protruding through the roof.
Unfortunately the Heinkel was destroyed in a landing accident in Cheyenne, Wyoming in July, 2003, as the pilot reported an engine failure upon approach. Sadly the crew were killed.
Later on I took a ride on their B-17G “Sentimental Journey”, as a birthday gift out of the Mesa-Gateway Airport. Parked next to it that day was the B-29 “FIFI”, maybe someday a ride on that one too. Plus still an active member of the CAF. Plan to go back soon and we have been talking about retiring to AZ someday….Aim High!
Glad you enjoyed your visit to my new home state. My wife puts up with visits to obscure aviation museums such as Bill Anders gem: Heritage Flight Museum is Skagit Regional Airport in Washington. Or the Commemorative Airforce museum at the South St. Paul airport in Minnesota (George HW Busch did some flight training there). They are everywhere and so much history to learn about and celebrate those various accomplishments. Thanks for highlighting another gem.
Thank you for a good dose of nostalgia — particularly when it involves aviation. Sorry to add a negative note, but nostalgia seems hard to find anymore …
Great story about Tempe, I graduated McClintock HS in 1969 and never looked back , 25 years in the Army then 25 in Law Enforcement. Tempe was a little sleepy town then and had a great CW bar in the river bottom area. Don’t miss the heat !