“This is vital for national security, and I’m confident you can count on government financial support,” Thurston promised the Swifts. “Both NASA and the Defense Department can provide funds that are already allocated for missile work.”
The meeting finally broke up and the Swifts were driven back to the airport.
Tom Sr. had decided they would go straight to Fearing Island to supervise their next missile launching. Tom would then continue on home to resume work with his invention.
The weather report was that the coastal area was blanketed with heavy fog, so Tom prepared for an instrument landing. As they approached the island, he switched on the radio.
“Fearing Approach Control. This is Swift Flight Nine,” Tom said.
“Approximately thirty miles south. Estimate Fearing at two-two. Over.”
DISTURBING REPORTS 81
The base tower responded, “Roger. Understand. Would you like a radar steer?”
“Affirmative.”
Thick gray mist billowed around the plane as Tom prepared to land.
“Turn to heading of zero-four-zero,” the tower called.
Tom complied, turning in for final approach. Suddenly the tower operator’s voice broke in:
“Check your ILS indications! Our scope shows you to be below glide path and left of the local-izer!”
Tom scanned his instrument landing system indicator and the altimeter.
Puzzled, he started to reply, “I’m showing the proper indica-”
The words died in his throat as a rocket gantry loomed out of the fog, almost dead ahead.
“Pull up, Tom!” cried Mr. Swift.
Tom barely had time to react. The next instant the plane rocked from a stunning impact as its right landing gear clipped the gantry!
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123