INBOUND FOR LANDING…BIG SANDY REGIONAL: Pete

Aircraft—Big Sandy unicom…Cessna…3…3…7…Mike…Echo…4 miles to the north…inbound for landing…

Unicom—Cessna…7…Mike…Echo…winds calm…no reported traffic…

—Charlie Hustle

Pete

Taking care of an airport gives me the opportunity to meet so many nice people. From all over this country, on any particular day, planes will drop in and I will have a new story to tell. That’s actually one of the best things about this job, you just never know what to expect your day to be like when you get out of bed each morning.

A few years ago I noticed on Flightaware, an aviation website, a plane was inbound from Lunkin Airport (LUK). That’s the old municipal airport for Cincinnati that handled the airlines for the city before Greater Cincinnati Airport (CVG) was built across the river in Kentucky. Pilot’s call Lunkin, “Sunkin Lunkin” because it’s near the Ohio River, east of town and fogs in pretty often.

I park most arriving traffic directly in front of the airport office, it’s close to the restrooms and I can easily fuel them, if needed. After chocking the wheels, I always go to the cabin door to welcome our new guests. When the door to the twin engined Cessna 414 dropped down and the gentleman started out, I was in total shock to see my boyhood sports idol, the all time major league hits leader and Cincinnati Reds legend, Pete Rose!

Playing baseball on the school ground in Warfield each summer as a kid. Pete Rose was who I wanted to be. Old number 14, Charlie Hustle, was my favorite member of the “Big Red Machine.” I would play ball or ride my bike every day in summer, come home at dark and sit on the front porch with my Dad and listen to the Reds on the radio.

Porches were important in the summer time in my hometown. I didn’t know anyone who had air conditioning in their homes in the 60’s. My Dad and I never talked a lot during the games but we sure did bond. It was a ritual, every evening, all summer long. There was something special about listening to a baseball game on the radio with my Dad. Hearing the crack of the bat and waiting that tenth of a second, to find out if it was a hit or an out. We would hang on every word of the announcers, as they described what was going on.

In 1964 my Dad took me to my first Reds game. There was no Mountain Parkway or Interstate 64 back then. It was a big trip to Cincinnati from Warfield and back but that’s what we did. What an exciting day it was for me to be in the upper deck in old Crosley Field watching the Reds. Pete was rookie of the year in 1963 and you could tell he was going to be a special player. The fans loved him because they could tell he loved the game, played hard and gave it his best, even ran to first after a walk, that’s how he became known as Charlie Hustle.

The Reds were playing the Los Angeles Dodgers and their famous pitcher, Don Drysdale, was batting. He fouled a ball into the upper deck and my Dad caught it, I still have and cherish that ball. As a kid playing baseball in Warfield, I dreamed of playing for the Reds and being the next Pete Rose. The Reds traded Pete in the 80’s to the Phillies and then major league baseball had several strikes. I lost interest in baseball and never really followed baseball much after that.

It had been years since baseball had occupied any space in my mind but when Pete started down those steps, as soon as we made eye contact, I knew exactly who he was. My childhood hero was standing in front of me, needing help to get down the steps of the Cessna 414. A thousand memories flashed through my mind, my childhood, my Dad, my memories of Pete, wearing those old sleeveless uniforms the Reds used to wear, as he came down those steps. As Pete reached for my hand he said, “My knees kind of lock up on me after I sit for a while, I’ll be OK after a few steps.”

“That’s from stretching all those singles into doubles and belly flopping into second all those years, Pete! You were my hero, Pete, I really loved watching the Big Red Machine and you….you were my favorite player!” I said.

Pete grinned and thanked me for helping him out, “My ride here yet?” He said.

About that time a car quickly pulled into the parking lot and it was his ride to the Mountain Arts Center in Prestonsburg for an autograph session and story telling. If I had known about the autograph session and talk I would have got someone to watch the airport for me, I would have went too. I asked if I could take a picture with him, he said, “Sure.”

Of course, I waited until he returned from signing autographs. Some people who have met him before said he wasn’t very sociable at his autograph sessions but he was nice to me. He asked me if I had anything I would like for him to sign. I said, “I’m not much on autographs but I do wish I had that baseball with me, I got in 1964, from Crosley Field. You probably had your hands on it back then. I would, like to shake your hand again and thank you for all the memories you have given me. I wish you nothing but the best, Pete!”

As the plane departed runway 3, I thought, “How many people actually get to meet their childhood hero, the person they dreamed of being years ago.” Then I remembered the saying, the long time Reds announcer, Joe Nuxhall, used to say as he was ending each broadcast, “Good night everyone, this is the old left hander rounding third and heading for home.” As I was heading home, too, I thought, “Man, what a day!”