Whirlybirds

1

        Back in 1920 Senor de la Ciervo did the world a mighty fine deed. In an earnest attempt to invent somethin’ he hinged a huge rotating blade onto a vertical shaft, then fastened the whole bloomin’ works atop some flimsy metal strips.

         The innovative Spaniard then put on a heavy coat and scarf, climbed aboard, seated himself comfortably, donned a pair of goggles, gave a “thumbs up” sign, said a prayer, started that blade turnin’ real, real fast…and lifted straight up into the air! A new era had dawned for mankind and Juan called his play-pretty the autogyro.

         Nineteen years later the original “industrial pirate” came along. Mr. Igor Sikorsky built a copycat version of de la Ciervo’s flying contraption, put it on the market and told each customer they’d just purchased themselves a helicopter.

         But I’m gonna stick with the original nametag. The hovering whirlybird featured in this account will be called what the good Senor dubbed it…autogyro. He built the durn thing; his choice of names oughta’ be respected.        

         Autogyro’s are, with the exception of birds of course, the most useful aeronautical devices ever to grace our airways. They lend a helping hand to a far greater number of worthwhile purposes than do Pipercubs or 747 Jumbo jets. A few examples.

         Appalachian Electric Power Co. has lotsa’ lines strung across these towering mountains around here. Those right-of-ways must be maintained and not allowed to become overgrown with trees  and obnoxious weeds ( including marijuana patches. A little of that stuff grows wild, but far greater acreage is under careful cultivation ).

         This posed quite a problem in the days before the autogyro made it’s debut. AEP had to hire an army of “brush cutters” every summer to keep their wires clear of obstacles. Times were tough, and those wretched peons were subjected to all sorts of perils up in that wild and rugged terrain.

         Rattlesnake bites were a common occurrence. Work was constantly interrupted by swarms of stinging insects. Those brave men were forced into a constant “swatting motion” just to keep from being eaten alive by hornets, wasps, yellow-jackets, wild bees, honey bees, bumblebees, sweat bees, and that most feared of all…the African killer bee!

         Some workmen couldn’t remain clear of falling trees…these unfortunate ones were crippled and maimed for life. Hundreds of paupers ventured too near the edge of slippery cliffs, lost both balance and footing and plunged straight down to their doom.

         Many of these pioneering workmen were unaccustomed to performing at high altitudes. They’d “pass out” on a mountaintop and could be revived only after being toted down to lower elevations. After regaining consciousness they’d look up with appreciative eyes to the stretcher-bearers and ask: “What in hell happened?” In a few extreme cases, because of more damage to oxygen-starved brains, their remarks followed this line: “Who am I and where am I?”

         Really, working conditions were just terrible. Amazingly enough, not a single lawsuit was filed.

         All that changed with the coming of Senor de la Ciervo’s invention. Nowadays they sling a bag of weed-killer neath an autogyro , fly across those mountain swaths, dump the liquid concoction, and in a matter of minutes all that foliage has wilted, withered and is no more (good thing too. “Brush Cutters,”…ain’t none uv’ ‘em left).

         This is just one of a myriad of functions performed by autogyros. But there’s another role for whirlybirds, and it’s importance far overshadows all others.

         Let me tell ya’ about that…

2

         In recent years many issues have headed our list of “national priorities and concerns.”

         That old man in Teheran who sits with a towel wrapped around his head has certainly been a thorn in our side. Polluted air, polluted rivers, polluted cities, polluted politics, seems everything is dirty. There’s much worry that our nuclear power –plants will start leakin’ and wipe us out to the last man. AIDS has the same devastating capability, and has already shoved those other woes to the backburner.

         Man I’m tellin’ya,’ we got more troubles than Dick Tracy ever thought about having. This is quite surprising too. For 20 years I’ve been listening to the ravings of a breed known as “futurists.” These knuckleheads have been saying their ideas and gadgets would prevent bad things from happening. As a matter of fact, the “bright ones” have assured the good life for one and all…they’ve promised we can live like kings without working!

A question for these modern-day Einsteins…what went wrong pal?! A possible answer. Its becoming more and more apparent  that futurists are “daydreamers,”  “planners,”…salesmen who’s only product is snow! Most of their harebrained ideas just ain’t  workable. I strongly suspect futurists should head that list of “national priorities and concerns.”

         Autogyros…the best durn flying-machine that ever sliced thru the atmosphere. America has known many crises, but for sheer longevity no other national emergency has been quite so frustrating as our traffic woes. In major metropolitan areas it has become unbearable. Things are really in a mess.

         New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Houston. All big places, a helluva’ lotta’ people live in them there villages. And every citizen owns one, two, three, even four junkheap automobiles.

         If our “love affair” with cars continues America ain’t gonna’ be nothin’ but one big parking lot. What we  ain’t asphaltin’ we’re covering with concrete. Ain’t gonna’ be enough agricultural space left to plant a patch of taters. All of which gives rise to another troublesome thought…already the falling rain is having trouble finding an entranceway to seep down into those subterranean water reservoirs. All because of cars, and somethin’ has gotta’ be done.

         Our large cities have long realized the autogyro offers a slim hope in finding solutions for nagging traffic-jams. Mayors order these funny lookin’ birds up there above skyscrapers to act as “eyes in the sky.” Whirlybird pilots talk down to frustrated drivers during mad rush-hour traffic to let ‘em know where long lines of cars are log-jammed and at a standstill…”ya’ might want to avoid Michigan Avenue this morning. Damndest mess down there I ever did see.”

         Roanoke is the latest city to use autogyros for this purpose. Captains Mike and Jim ( they never broadcast their last names, thus no one knows who this dynamic duo of personalities really are. I personally lean toward the notion they’re illegal immigrants. Or perhaps a pair of escaped convicts on the loose ) are doing a fine job down there for Star City motorists…”keep away from route 419 this morning. Those poor fools won’t get to work before the afternoon coffee-break.”

         Broadcasting over WPVR , Jim and Mike are absolutely spilling over with heartening news: “Its awfully foggy out here this morning, so lets make an effort to hold the headon collisions to a bare minimum.”

         Closer to home, we have a teeming metropolis experiencing  growing pangs and an ever-increasing problem with traffic. Dammit all, Narrows needs an autogyro…

3

         A nationwide survey completed just last week was a real eye-opener. It set in motion a tongue-wagging that sounded like a thunderclap rumbling through these mountains and valleys. As a rolling tidal-wave the echoes have reached distant places, caught the attention of powerful people and made ‘em sit up and take notice of a local phenomenon.

         That poll listed the 25 fastest growing cities in America, and it came as no surprise to learn Atlanta is leading the pack. The southern metropolis i8s growing by leaps and bounds…”bustin’ at the seams” is an accurate description of that urbane city way off down yonder in Georgia. Seems all the factories in this broad land are relocating to that place in Dixie where Turner Broadcasting is located ( anyone having records or insurance to sell should contact WTBS. They’ll put yer junk on the air and sell ‘em by the millions ).

         Other familiar names are among the cities getting “gittin’ too big fer their britches.” Centers of population such as Denver, Chicago, Boston and  Los Angeles are expanding rapidly ( considering the latest trends in Southern California, I’m gonna’ avoid L.A. and it’s infamous freeways at all cost ). Their population is being thinned out by an eruption of gunfire on those macadam slabs. Freakish California drivers think the car just ahead is movin’ too slow. In such instances a fella’ is left with little choice; he pulls out the old six-shooter and starts blasting away, wounding every motorist who won’t speed up. By gosh ‘uns, that’ll teach ‘em! A time-worn phrase goes somethin’ like this: “ America is the most civilized and advanced technological nation in all of history…God is on our side.”

         Until about 20 years ago, probably a fair assessment. Anyone who believes that is true now is ripe for admittance to a mental  institution. More’n likely HE sits up there, looks down with a scathing frown, and is about to let the roof cave in on our nation of abortionists, addicts, liars, thieves, ambitious and greedy people.

         Seems the list of our 25 fastest growing cities is made up of the same old ‘Burgs” every year. This time around, however, there was one exception.

         An upstart newcomer has cracked that exclusive club, moving into the number two position and pushing Atlanta hard for the lead. The new entrant in the “fastest growing” sweepstakes is Narrows, a vibrant southwest Virginia metropolis with a current rate of growth that's nothing short of astronomical.

         New people are flocking in here by the thousands. But, as you well know, good news always has a companion…bad news. Every person arriving here is the owner of 3 cars, 2 four-wheel drive pickup trucks, one motor-scooter, a Winnebago home on wheels, 2 trail-bikes, a pair of plain bicycles, 3 pairs of roller-skates, 2 Honda motorcycles, and one prairie schooner.

         The already crowded streets of Narz are becoming completely overburdened with wheels…

4 

         Getting from one point to another in Narrows has lately become a real hassle. A smothering influx of humanity into our town has given rise to many unforseeable problems, the most visible of which is bumper-to-bumper traffic. In all my borned days I ain’t never seen nothin’ to beat it!

         Wuz tryin’ to git downtown yesterday morning, driving the same route I’ve used since way back yonder in the depression-ridden thirties. This takes me down Northview ( the main thoroughfare leading to, or from, Hungry Hollow ) to where it intersects with East Main…right there at Riffe’s Funeral Home.

         Drat the luck, a staggering total of 3 cars were backed up at that stop-sign, trying to ease into the steady flow of motorized junk wehizzing by on Main. After what seemed an eternity a courteous driver happened along, slowed a mite and motioned me out into that mess.

         Something must be done to combat this hellfired congestion. And just maybe it is, even at this moment. Yesterday an “insider” told me that several “studies” are currently underway, conducted by various engineering firms. Specific proposals are expected to be made public within 60 days.

         That’s all well and good, but its one helluva’ way to spend yer dough. The fees of “consulting engineering firms” are ridiculous.

         A solution for controlling these perplexing traffic-jams in Narrows is simple, easy as seeing yer beautiful facial features when gazing into a mirror ( ain’t no ugly folks left in the world. This is fact, because I keep hearing we’re all “beautiful people” ).

         All citizens of Narrows oughta’ band together and attend the next meeting held by town council. We will, of course, need to appoint a “group spokesman,” a person who can talk real good and who, if called upon to do so, could immediately launch into a filibuster ( I can recommend dozens who can ably fill that role ).

         Don’t hedge, stutter and stammer or beat around the bush. This person must make our desires known by laying the total package out on the table: “members of council, as you well know our traffic problems are gittin’ outta’ hand. We’re here to advise you we need one of them there “eyes in the sky.” Buy us a durn autogyro!”

         On second thought, the imponderable task at hand would greatly overwork a single whirlybird. We gotta’ git ourselves a pair of them doggone things!

The End

M. L. Wilkinson

April, 1991