The town of Ciudad Acuña had little industry and depended on tourism for much of its economy. There were few paved streets and utilities, such as electricity and water, were in short supply or non-existent in some areas of Ciudad Acuña. A local dentist, Dr. Ramon Ortiz, offered his large home with a swimming pool for the meeting. Much to our surprise, when a review of the meeting site was conducted, planners discovered there was no water in the pool. Prior to the two presidents’ meeting, Laughlin sent water trucks to fill the pool.
My John told me many of his on-the-job stories of those early days at Laughlin. One such story was about shooting the birds in the hangars because their droppings corroded the metal on the airplanes. There were occurrences of the maintenance technicians being the target of occasional droppings as they worked on the airplanes in the hangar. I can only guess that the sound of gunshots must have created quite a show in the hangar.
Joe Kerr, a resident of Del Rio, invited my John to his ranch to observe “real” ranching in action. The action they were watching was cattle roping. John didn't know at the time that “greenhorns” like him were ranchers’ entertainment and their kind of ranch humor. Joe and some of the other fellows there chided John into roping a calf. Being a good sport but completely out of his element, John did rope a calf over and over again. After all that “real” ranching, John's clothes were dirty and torn and he was a disheveled mess. With Joe accompanying John to the gate at Laughlin, the guard asked the disheveled occupant for his identification, which he didn't have with him. He said, “I'm Colonel John Harvey, the Base Commander.” As you might imagine, the guard didn't believe him and he called his commander to come identify John and his guest. I'm sure the guard never forgot that day and he probably made it an amusing story in the retelling. I know for sure my John never forgot the incident.
James S. Long
James Long is Chairman of the Board, Laughlin Heritage Foundation Museum.
Del Rio, Texas
But What Does he Do?
My sister, Mary Kay Long, was taking her friend, Jane, daughter of Colonel A. J. Bratton, home one afternoon from school to the family residence on Laughlin AFB. They stopped the car at the main gate and a young Air Policeman (AP), noting an unregistered vehicle with two cute girls, stuck his head into the driver's window. He demanded identification. While Mary Kay was retrieving her driver's license, Jane passed her military ID across to the policeman and said, “I think this will help.” The AP grasped the ID, scanned it briefly and quickly returned it. He abruptly withdrew his head knocking his hat off. He retrieved his hat, stood at attention and saluted smartly. Mary Kay was very impressed with the attention they received. As they drove off, she asked Jane, “What does your Dad do?” Jane replied, “He's the Wing Commander!” Mary Kay persisted, “I know, but what does he do?”
Wetbacks on the Ramp
Shortly after the Lockheed U-2s arrived at Laughlin AFB, my cousin, Warren Long, who was with the Army Corps of Engineers, was assigned to do survey work on the flight ramp. He was accompanied by an escort officer when he worked in close proximity of the classified aircraft. While Warren was occupied with his surveying, the escort officer noticed some individuals crossing the ramp and exclaimed, “Well, I'll be damned! Here we are with the most sensitive aircraft in the Air Force inventory and those illegal aliens are right in the middle of them!”
Who Fired those Shots?
My father, Stillman Long, and I were returning about dusk from a hunting trip northwest of Brackettville, Texas, approximately 30 miles east of Laughlin. It was during the Christmas holidays. We were driving our Jeep station wagon when we had some engine trouble on US Highway 90 near the end of the Laughlin runways. I volunteered to walk to the gate and call for a mechanic while my Dad remained with the Jeep and our rifles. A carload of kids passed and tossed out some fire crackers setting off a series of loud bangs. I arrived at the main gate of Laughlin, explained our situation to the guard, and he allowed me to call the mechanic in Del Rio, seven miles away. As I was making my call, a sedan arrived at the gate with two men in the rear seat armed with submachine guns. They demanded of the guard, “Who fired the shots?” I volunteered that I had seen that it was only kids with fireworks. The driver then asked the guard, “Who is he?” They seemed satisfied with the answer and drove out the gate to US Highway 90 only to return a short while later.
With my call made and the mechanic on his way, I walked back to the Jeep. I told my Dad about the fireworks incident and the guys with submachine guns. He said, “I guess that's why those guys over there have been watching me with their field glasses.” Sure enough I saw the vehicle parked on Laughlin property that my Dad had seen.
Photographic Security
As an aviation fan and avid model airplane builder, I had built several of the Hawk Company's Lockheed U-2A models after the full-scale aircraft arrived at Laughlin. I was proud to be the first civilian to get one of the new model U-2s. I had the idea to place the models on the sidewalk at our house to simulate the ramp. I hung one from a pecan tree nearby with monofilament fishing line in a flight position. After I took a number of 35mm color slides, I sent them off to Kodak for processing in Dallas where I sent all my film for development. After an unusually long time, the slides were returned with special markings on the box. A special notation showed that it had been examined by Kodak security department. It then occurred to me that the photos had looked realistic enough on first glance for a censor to examine them!
I remember the date and time vividly, June 28, 1957. A high school classmate who lived near the Del Rio Municipal airport called me and hurriedly explained that a jet aircraft was landing, probably a Navy Crusader. I figured he had it all wrong, but I told him I would come pick him up on the way to the airport to catch a look. When we arrived at the airport, we saw a bunch of people running to the northwest part of the airport near Gulick Hill. From where we stood, we could only see a large silver object on the ground. We then drove toward Gulick Road and the hill near what we now understood was a crashed airplane. It appeared to have occurred only moments ago.
We left the car and ran towards the still unidentifiable aircraft just as a USAF H-19 helicopter landed at the site. We crossed the fence and were within 50 to 60 feet of the aircraft when the security force exited the helicopter. They ordered everyone back 50 feet beyond the fence and within a few moments we were told to move back 100 feet. The final order was for everybody to get completely out of the area.
The Laughlin fire truck crossed the runway and started up the slope to the crash site. The fire truck passed a number of people who had slowed to a walk. A puff of black soot escaped the exhaust as the driver accelerated to pass through the fence without slowing.
We jockeyed for position as close to the aircraft as we dared. What we observed that day remained with me even now. The fuselage was upside down and the pilot was still strapped in his seat. We took note of the tail number of the aircraft and my friend remarked, “Do you see anything funny about the tail number? It is all sixes and nines!”
We were still spellbound by the activity, and I saw Mr. Frank Gulick, the owner of the property where the crash occurred. He was taking pictures with his movie camera. I felt certain that his camera, or at least the film, would be taken from him. His niece later confirmed the camera and film had been confiscated.
After we were ordered away from the area by the security force, I took my friend home. I later returned with my Brownie Hawkeye camera and took a photo of the wreckage. The film was processed, but I never showed it to anyone until the early 1990’s when I had it enlarged for a 4080th SRW reunion.
Patricia McIlmoyle
Venice, Florida
My Thoughts
When my husband was flying the U-2 all over the world I never worried about him. I believed he was the best of the best of pilots, I thought! At the end of this story you will understand I feel different. It is never too late to change our hearts and minds.
Did other wives
in the Squadron really put jar lids filled with vinegar or some concoction under the crib legs to keep spiders, scorpions or earwigs from getting into our child's crib. I did that! Did military people earn the same salaries in their rank? Was I rich or poor? Wherever else in a same development would we get the same design of housing, a huge commissary, lovely parks, brand new swimming pools, nice ceramic and art classes, all kinds of athletic games? Those perks were exceptional. Weren't mothers all around outside to help monitor their children and the neighbors’ children? Our Clubs were the best in food and shows. Didn't some of the men get up with their head covered (so we wouldn't recognize them) as we watched their “button” moving in circles imitating a whistle? The act was called “The Whistling Midgets”. I had a ball! What talent we were exposed to. Didn't we have the best of imitators and also the best of dancers, whatever their act might be? In another way, didn't I take my sick children to the doctor; didn't he say to me that the children were okay and that they had the Fifth Disease because they missed their father when he was on TDY? Did I believe that? Was that true?
Were our experiences and adventures not so sophisticated as we have today? Did any other families have picnics underneath the bridges around the base area? We were afraid of the bats that would come flying out at us. Wasn't it like going to a zoo to take our littlest ones to the back gate to watch bunny rabbits bouncing around looking for food? Did you hear of one or more little boys sitting down on the street curb with the sharper edge of a dinner knife in one hand? They were swatting a rattlesnake on the head and they did not get hurt.
Were you there on base when the men were flying over Cuba? I put duct tape all around my windows so nuclear dust would not harm my children. I doubt, when I think about it, that Russia would nuke Del Rio. Who would want two young kids to sleep in her bed when their Dad was on TDYs? I wanted that! Did I ever get drunk at the Club and get sick? I did but it wasn't good for me. We drove back home through the back gate because my spouse did not want the guards to see me “toss my cookies.” Did your children get up in the morning when it was still dark? Their father was home from a flight but they wanted breakfast so they went to the frig. The older one poured KoolAid (whatever became of milk?) onto his and his sister's cereal.
Were you one of the women who came to this church meeting that one friend had? A crowd of members in the group came to that insignificant mini-meeting. How did my friend manage to serve homemade pie to so many people? Well, she was an Air Force wife and everyone there had an adequate piece of pie and all the coffee they wanted.
Do some of you remember the singing group at most bases and especially the Women's Chorus we had at Del Rio? Our super director and artistic pianist were the best in talent. Did we have fun? Yes!
Some family, relatives and friends would visit us on-base but were disturbed by sounds of the jets revving up their engines so early in the mornings. Did those jet screams bother you? Not me!
Might you remember one cute Captain's wife who sewed an outfit for herself for the luncheon's fashion show? Showing off her outfit and seeing her bounce around the table were wonderful to me. She was the epitome of a pretty officer's wife. What about those lovely teas we would go to at some hostess’ home? I will never forget those times. Whoever would get their children in their new Volkswagen bus and with another family drive clear to Breckenridge Park in San Antonio for a picnic? It was three hours away! I have had that experience.
Well, to get back to what I think of all of us and our husbands’ careers, I find that my thoughts are different now. I liked all the events we have had and the good times. But, flying and working in support of that Squadron seems scary to me when I hear or read these stories. My heart tells me that these men were handsome, good husbands, good fathers and superb airmen. But, now I think they also are brave.
I am the wife of … a US Air Force Cold War Reconnaissance Pilot.
Clifford B. (Cliff) Melton
(Deceased November 1, 1980)
The following was submitted by Cliff's widow, Virginia.
Cliff was an engineer by education and was assigned to the Field Maintenance Operation of the 4080th SRW.
When Cliff was assigned to Laughlin, we rented a house in Del Rio. Our next door neighbors on one side were Bob and Barbara Ingram, on the other Rudy and Jane Anderson. Bob and Barbara's daughter, Stacy, was about the same age as our daughter, Joyce, and they became friends. Our sons played with Rudy and Jane's boys.
During the time Cliff was with the 4080th SRW at Laughlin, we had three young children, Joyce, Wes and Bill, who was born in Del Rio. Our kids were involved in a variety of activities. I became a volunteer, mostly because I had already driven them to their functions. I was Cub Scout leader with Wes and Bill and a Brownie leader with Joyce. The boys were also into sports and played Little League baseball.
I was a home economics major in college and enjoyed teaching my daughter and the Brownie Troop to sew. One of the Brownie projects was to sew a Barbie dress using a pattern that I made for each girl. They sewed the dresses by hand and later I took their carefully sewn clothes and finished them on the sewing machine so they would not come apart. Shortly after they finished sewing the dresses, we had a Father/Daughter Banquet. The girls brought their Barbie dolls with newly created outfits to the banquet. The dolls were set on the table and held the place cards for the dads.
While we were in Tucson, Joyce's high school cooking class made cookies for the men in Vietnam. We wrapped and sent them to Cliff for distribution to the fellows at his base. Each of the men who received the cookies wrote thank you letters to the girls.
Clifford B. Melton, Laughlin AFB, 1966
William T. (Rody) Rodenbach II
Riverside, California
Wife: Barbara
Memoirs Of A U-2 pilot's Wife
Charles Dickens said it best in the opening of his book, A Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times and the worst of times.” Rody received transfer orders from the 71st Strategic Reconnaissance Wing at Larson AFB, Moses Lake, Washington in June 1957 to join the 4080th SRW at Laughlin AFB, Del Rio, Texas. That wasn't such bad news. For two years we had enjoyed living at Larson in a nice little house on Doolittle Drive. Many of our friends previously stationed with us in Bitburg, Germany also transferred to Larson. They were the Bedfords, the Mohans, and the Bellingers. The Dixons lived a couple of streets away, which was a safe walk for our daughter, Janie, to play with her best friend, Diane. We all had two or more kids. On a freezing, snowy night our fourth child, Chuck, was born at the Larson AFB Hospital on January 17, 1957. You have heard it all before, I'm sure. It was time to leave for the hospital, labor pains were three minutes apart, but the car would not start. Bill opened the hood and I got behind the wheel to turn the key; we finally got it going. This was the best of times, a new baby boy, a new assignment and a new adventure.
We were pleased to hear that many of the Larson AFB families would be with us in Del Rio. It was especially nice for the wives and the children to transfer together, as an extended family, from one location to another. Most of us were many miles from close relatives so these great friends became “family.” While living in Washington State, Rody and I couldn't have been much further from our roots in Connecticut. The children of our Air Force friends were babies in Germany, toddlers in Moses Lake and now they looked forward to attending school together in Texas.
Barbara Rodenbach and dance partner in the production of Olé.
We took our annual leave in the summer to spend time with family. We drove to Connecticut from wherever we were stationed. Our families were overjoyed to learn that the kids and I would be spending the summer with them at the family cottage in Madison, Connecticut, on the shores of Long Island Sound. Rody made a wooden car bed for five-month-old Chuck to ride in the back seat of the car. I painted it blue and made a mattress for the combination bed and playpen. This was many years before secured child seats and seat belts. The children and I took turns riding in the back seat w
ith Chuck and we referred to his bed as “the box.” More than once when we stopped for gas or at rest stops, strangers would ask the kids what they had in the box. Our kids innocently replied, “Our baby brother.” There were more than a few surprised looks from those same strangers. The box worked well for giving Chuck a safe, comfortable place for sleeping and playing under the watchful eye of his back seat companions.
Rody took on the packing of our household goods at Larson and then endured the white glove treatment of inspection before checking out of base quarters. After clearing the base, he drove the long trip back East to pick us up and move us to Texas.
We had heard that Del Rio was no paradise. However, that wasn't enough to prepare me for the long drive into that part of the country. The children and I had never been to Texas; consequently, it was hard for us to grasp how really big the state was and how long it took to drive through it. The children frequently asked their Dad if they were still in Texas. We drove farther south, each day hotter than the previous one. Our car did not have air conditioning and all four kids were cramped, tired and cranky. The rolling hills and tall trees of the eastern landscape were replaced with mesas and numerous species of cacti. The terrain became very flat and barren; tumbleweeds rolled across the road in front of our car. We could see for miles and miles with not a hill nor even curve in the otherwise straight as an arrow road. I felt as though we were driving to the end of the earth and within a few more miles, we were going to fall off.
Remembering the Dragon Lady: The U-2 Spy Plane: Memoirs of the Men Who Made the Legend Page 48
