My date with a B-29 Superfortress

Saturday, January 30th, 2010 was a cold, dark and rainy morning. It was the kind of morning where if you didn't have to get out of bed, . . . you wouldn't. On such a dark and cold morning, there are only so few reasons why one would want to get out of bed, such as that terrible call of nature most people feel in the mornings that cannot be ignored. The need for a hot cup of coffee. Otherwise, my beautiful wife Jennifer and I would still asleep under our nice and toasty blankets, but this morning was different. This morning, when my trusty iPhone alarm went off at the time of 6:00 am, i was up with a frantic excitedness that couldn't be hindered by the abysmal appearance outside my window. No, nothing could break my mood this morning, for I had an appointment. An appointment that has kept me up several nights in a row. For this morning, I was being given a great opportunity, to climb in to the cockpit of a B-29 Superfortress and photograph her for reference materials for my B-29 aviation art project.

Several weeks prior, I decided to produce B-29 art for my next aviation art and illustration venture. I'd spent almost the year before working on World War I aviation art to much satisfaction, and respecting my artistic A.D. D., I decided to move forward 30 or so years to World War II. There were several reasons I chose the B-29. It's historical significance, it's contribution to the defeat of America's enemies, the technical challenges she'll give me in recreating her, and most importantly, there's one on display about 7 miles away from my house, pretty convenient. The Museum Of Aviation has a B-29 on display in it's World War II building in Warner Robins, Georgia, and any aviation artist will tell you, you need references, and I couldn't get any better than the real thing sitting there in a nice air conditioned hangar. Not only that, but the Museum's Gift Shop has scores of books and materials that are helping me as well.

While shooting the bomber several weeks ago in what was my first trek in to getting the know the B-29, a sudden idea hit me, "I wonder if there's any way I can get inside this thing" I thought to myself. I went home and emailed Stephanie Robinson, a marketing specialist for the Museum, whom I'd worked with in the past at the employ of Najera Design and Associates, and told her about my project and humbly requested access to the interior of the cockpit for reference photos. It was definitely a long-shot, but a shot worth taking. I mean, I'm no Russell Smith or Ronnie Olsthoorn, I'd only ventured in to aviation art a year or so prior after several years of keeping this passion under wraps. So with a shaky hand, I hit the send button in my email and that was it. The waiting began. I tried to put it out of my mind as I was sure they'd say no, but rather quickly, she replied with a simple "Let's set up a meeting for the first week in January. What's your schedule like?" I sat there, in my chair starring at the monitor on my desk, I reread the email. "Yup, that's what she said" I told myself over and over again until it hit me that this may actually happen. So on Friday, January 8th, I met up with Stephanie Robinson and Museum of Aviation Curator Mike Rowland and discussed what I wished to accomplish with this aviation art project and they seemed very interested. It was said they would need to get approval for my access to the plane, and on January 12th, I got another email from Stephanie, stating we had gotten approval from museum director Ken Emery. Words could not describe the joy I felt, I was going to sit inside a B-29 Superfortress. ME ! ! !

We scheduled my access for January 30th, and what a long two weeks it had been, but I got started with the initial 3D model construction as I had ample photos of the exterior of the plane. By the time the 30th had rolled around, I'd gotten some progress on my 3d model such as basic geometry and the forward landing gear. The 2 weeks came and went, and as stated earlier, the morning of the 30th was very cold and rainy, but I didn't care. On this morning, I was going in a B-29 bomber. I was like a kid on Christmas morning. I grabbed my Nikon D90, kissed my wife goodbye, and ran out the door!

I arrived at the Museum Of Aviation restoration facility at 8:00 am sharp to meet Rusty Harrison, but when I got there, Mr. Harrison was decked out in welding gear and was busy, but a man named Tony led me up to the hangar. I made small talk about what I was up to with my aviation project and how cold it was. I found out they generally do not work Saturdays, but the Museum of Aviation was preparing to get another F-105 Thunderchief and they were preparing for that. Tony led me up a ways to the hangar and we entered the back door of the World War II hangar. Already this was exciting as we passed by restored aircraft such as the B-25 Mitchell and A-26 Invader. The hangar was unusually dark and quiet as the Museum wouldn't open for another hour. We finally made our way to the B-29, Tony crossed the exhibit chain and made his way towards the bomb bay. I paused for a split second, then realized I was still supposed to be following him, so I stepped over the divider and walked towards the plane. At this point, the heart started doing a mile a minute. I was praying the whole time that my entrance in to the bomber would be trouble free. I was nervous because a few months earlier while at an air show in Perry, Georgia, I was allowed to take a peak inside a B-17, the B-29's predecessor, and I tell you, that plane was NOT intended for a 6'3, 250+ pound men to enter. As I tried to make my way in the B-17, I was struggling to get in to an entrance hatch. Twisting and turning my large frame wasn't going well and that's when I heard this little "crunch." I had broke my precious iPhone against me and the bulkhead hatch, but didn't care much as I'd just been inside a B-17 Stratofortress.

However, those fears were laid to rest, the access door for the cockpit was plenty big enough and a short ladder climb would be all I needed to enter the cockpit. The ladder we use was a bit shaky for my taste, Tony went up first like it was nothing. I'm sure he'd done that a thousand times, but this is my first time and I felt as stable as a newborn giraffe walking for the first time. Halfway up, I handed Tony my camera to free up my other hand, and I slowly but surely made it to the hatch and crawled on all fours. It was amazing to be there. It was dark, the only light was from the outside lights in the hangar. There was no movement of air which made it quite warm. There was a musky smell to the air but what would one expect from an aging 60-year-old war-bird. Although roomier then I had expected, I still could not stand straight up, so I ended up either sitting straight down or propping myself up on my knees. Either way, comfort was not my main concern. Catching details was my main concern. Although I had been told the restoration was still in progress, that didn't matter. She had a sense of pride to her as one of a very few existing B-29s in the world today. She was full of character. I could imagine being there in her prime flying long missions over the Pacific in 1945. I had to quickly snap back to reality as Tony left me to my work. I had only a short time until the Museum opened at 9:00. I began snapping away, trying to capture anything and everything I could. Wide shots, close-ups, I tried to capture as much as I could to eventually help me recreate the interior as much as possible for the upcoming 3D modeling I will eventually do. I literally was snapping photo after photo trying to capture as much as I could. I didn't want to miss a thing. From the back to the front I tried to get everything. My favorite part was sitting in the bombardier's seat. Looking frontward I could only imagine what that view must have been like at tens of thousands of feet. I moved forward to the Mark XV Norden Bombsite and being marveled at this engineering feat developed over 60 years ago.

What seemed like minutes became almost an hour. 9:00 am was quickly approaching and it was time for me to leave. I suddenly realized myself. My back was aching, my knees felt bruised and I was drenched with sweat. The time had come for me to leave; however, I sat down for just a few minutes to take it all in, where I was and what this whole event meant to me. I was actually sad to leave. The climb down the ladder was more precarious than the initial ascent, but thankfully I made it down. It was 8:55, so I took a few seconds to snap some shots of the rear bomb-bay and landing gear. I gathered my belongings, packed my camera in my bag and crossed back over the divider chain. I walked about 15 feet or so and I stopped. I turned around to look at the plane one more time. I was reverent, thankful I had been given this opportunity.

My thanks go out to all at the Museum Of Aviation in Warner Robins, Georgia for allowing me the opportunity to do this. And it seemed that I'll be doing more over the coming year with the Museum Of Aviation and my aviation artwork. Check back often for details and updates of my B-29 art project.