Helendale Keepsake vol One
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Keepsake vol Two OLD NUMBER 8
OLD NUMBER 8 Helendale, the big iittle community so well blessed is further favored in having had every mode of transportation coming one time or another to it's front, side or rear doors. Here, pre-historic Americans dwelled in ease watching history's passing parade. Men in moccasins for centuries sprinted it's length on a network of animal trails to barter with coastal tribes. A Spanish priest, first known non-native to cross into the vast Mojave came this way. Mounted mountain men, immigrants, wagon, mule, and camel trains, treasure seekers, ranchers and the railroad followed. This is truly a "hub" location, confirmed as such in 1844 when John C. Fremont, exploring California for statehood, approached Helendale from the west not the usual north-south entry points. Horseless carriages rattling on earthen roadbeds motored through this first transcontinental interstate course. Not "66", but 1913's Santa Fe, Grand Canyon and Needles Highway. A year later it turned into National Old Trails Road and in 1928, magically became Route 66. Now it's called, National Trails Highway. Airplanes, seldom seen in 1927 except in cities, were above this convergence point on a daily basis. Two years later both day and night flying over Helendale became commonplace. Then, on October 14, 1947, test pilot Chuck Yeager riding a rocket plane 42,000 feet above this once Vanyume Indian village, broke the sound barrier by racing supersonic speeds. Some readers may recall the breath taking "boom" following this epic event. Returning back twenty years before Yeager's time, new noises began ripping at Helendale's serenity. Roaring Twenties barn storming pilots trusting seat of the pants lore (instrument free flying) homed in on main line railroad tracks between towns. This type of navigation was known as, cross-country, iron beam flying, the rails acting as direction finders. "Steelriders," birdmen slang sixty years ago, referred to electric beacons shooting continuous light flashes along established airways. To prepare such routes, the first step was finding the best available straight-line passages. Planners took to the air to study strips of land twenty-five miles wide and followed up with ground checks. Small, intermediate landing fields were erected as close to paved roads and places of habitation as possible, ideally about thirty miles apart. About every ten miles along airways, beacons were placed on the highest obtainable elevations so the view from one to the other wouldn't be blocked. Between 1927 to 1932, a special effort pushing night air mail was rushed forward, an accomplishment made possible by government lighted airways and radio beacons. In 1933, 40% of all mileage was flown between dusk and dawn, a period when most young airlines employed four personnel on the ground for each one airborne. By the end of 1928, 16,000 miles of American airways serving three-fourths of the United States population was nearly half completed. Hundreds of small airports like Daggett, Lenwood, Victorville or Hesperia's Miller's Corner, came into existence. So encouraging was the progress between 1926 and 1928, officials, including future U.S. President Harry S. Truman, expected 1929 to have regular scheduled aviation companies functioning with ample passenger and cargo fares making them cost effective. Additionally, ways and means of advising in-flight air crews by radio were being worked out using 2,000 watt capacity radio- telephone transmitters having a reliable range of 125 miles. Executives borrowed ideas from motoring like traffic regulations, identification markings and automobile club strip maps showing the topography of the countryside. Then, for the safest, smoothest movement over airways, railroad systems for dispatching, arrivals and departures were used as guidelines. In 1928, U.S. mail pilots enjoyed the benefits of lighted skyways more than any other class of fliers. No longer going into darkness, the Trail Blazers followed the sight of one or more brilliant beacons swinging in a circle one degree above the horizon, revolving three, sometimes six times a minute. A line of sight-light that could be seen fifty miles away in some atmospheres, appeared as a long string of twinkling pearls. The Commerce Department by 1933 had nearly twenty thousand miles of beacon equipped airways, 98 radio range beacons and 13,500 miles of weather reporting teletypes on line and working. Early airlines and mail service had to solve two problems quickly: (1) getting a plane through any kind of weather to a point over it's destination; (2) getting a plane safely down when the ground was invisible. Radio range beacons mastered the first need, these "steel rails" radiated continuous signals along airways broadcasting in the skies aurally and visually. Aurally, the airmen heard in earphones a repeated combination of dot and dash buzzes. Visually, they followed the flashing message from an electric light spinning counter-clockwise above a seventy foot steel tower. On each beacon were two course lights emitting code signals which identified the beacon's number on the airway. These ran from zero to nine, then started over. By tracking the nines passed, as the next nine came up a pilot could find his where-a-bouts. Various types of lights, timed for sunset to sunrise showing, were employed. The standard was a 1,000 watt searchlight fitted with a twenty-four inch precision parabolic (curved) mirror giving a beam of 2,000,000 candle power. An electric, one-sixth horsepower motor rotated this hook up. Each beacon was supplied with an automatic lamp-changer and two bulbs. Replacement of burned out bulbs occurred instantaneously. By December 1928, 1,020 beacons of several types were found nationwide. Helendale, always in the middle of things, sported one, too! Where no power was available, gasoline driven, electricity generating sets were used. These units had standby generators that automatically kicked in if necessary. Spaced about two-hundred miles from each other, beacon keepers provided regular, twice monthly maintenance and received nominal pay. For automatic beacons which largely serviced themselves, a fee between five and ten dollars was paid for required repairs. Six foot square platforms hooded each tower which were guarded by railings to protect against falls. Men called "caretakers" were hired for all intermediate airfields at a salary of up to $30.00 a month. Their chores included emergency aircraft handling, anti-theft patrolling and at some locations, telegraphing weather conditions. Such fields usually comprised of two, 2,000 ft. landing-take off strips about 600 ft. wide. Most were within a fifty acre plot with higher altitude strips having less acreage. Both Hesperia (Number 7) and Lenwood (Number 10) were Department of Commerce operated Intermediate Fields with beacons and runway lighting. Hesperia's field size was 1320' X 2640' while Lenwood was 2640' X 2640. Returning fast forward to 1994, we find few area old timers recall Helendale Hill's beacon. Those remembering never climbed the 3,018 ft. tower's location. Research by Victor Valley surveyor Robert Smillie, shows, "Airway Beacon 8" Helendale's own, about three- quarters of a mile east of Charley Burden's now closed old Route 66 gas station. By World War II, the beacon light was off. New pressing needs surfaced and volunteer night time wardens, guarding against enemy air raids manned a "spotter" shack. This chicken coop size cabin was furnished with a table, two chairs and a telephone line to March Field. When making reports, Hodge residents Margie and Charles Van Rhyn, assigned to the midnight shift, used Helendale's very own official, wartime secret name "39 Ralph One". The Orebaugh family also stood lonely night "spotter" duty helping the war effort. Mirl Orebaugh says the warden shack was about halfway to the beacon but lower down the hill. He recalls La Delta resident Jim Deebe's stepfather, a stocky man in his fifties, being the local beacon keeper. Area booster Henry Jay, as a youth was intrigued by "Old 8" turning counter-clockwise and displaying three red, then one white flash. Electric poles, he says, went up towards the beacon's tower. Cowboy artist Bill Bender suspected new pilots on the airway were overheard when they lined up closely with the coded signals. More seasoned airmen, making faster time, took a short cut directly to Lenwood. Bender at times, shined a flashlight upwards in a friendly gesture towards passing planes and was always thrilled when a beam answered his from an on high lonely and likely freezing cockpit. As to when "8" ceased, this writer has but scant clues. Wartime censorship and lack of interest shrouds the date. Likely, more can be found on the "turn off' but having written this much on "8's" life assuring rays, I'll skip over doing it's obituary. John M. Swisher 1994
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 California Historic Route 66 AssociationPreservation, Promotion and Enjoyment of Route 66 |
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