Crash

Billy Joe came from the house, filled with sin ugly trouble,
Oh, he was saying and spitting out those descriptive words!
I have called on God in this day to help us with these troubles;
When in the very thick of these fight words,

Joe’s brother came from the house; he was the center of trouble.
He would claim coal was his promise of deliverance words,
Yet no deliverance could come from this wondering but trouble,
On Veteran Day we were flying on our way to the wing trail.

Open cock-pit, with down parkas through cold stabbed like a driven nail.
Dare not close your eyes, they simply freeze shut this true tale.
Talk about cold! Billy Joe drunk on, his dark red Wyoming Ale,
All I could hear from him was whining and crying the trouble he was really in.

A cold wind stabbed like a driven nail was just trouble were really sin.
Talk about cold! And there is no deliverance in those words.
At -12 freezing in an open cockpit, at 12000 feet over the Great Divide cold winds.
The wings are icing over soon I have to land,

I’m over the Wind River Range Central Wyoming it all jagged peaks,
Sawtooth; I’ve heard it called, best place maybe a frozen lake for landing.
High granite peaks mountain lakes and sub-alpine forest below those peaks.

I got remember Ice Landing rules of a bush flying
Landing on a snow-covered lake is with ice skill.
Risky at the best but it takes ice knowledge in flying
The ice knowledge 6 to 8 inches of solid ice, how would know that as skill.

Like Ice fishing, the ice must be safe to be on takes skill to know but flying.
From the air doing a light touch down at high taxi and then go fly around,
Checking the looks of those tracks low speed go around will tell me ice condition
Knowledge, when those tracks of our pass look gray the ice, is too thin condition,

When the snow looks white it’s still a maybe, fly around
When and if I have the time and I would get out the bowling ball.
A bowling ball about 16 pounds dropped from the aircraft and 400 to 600 feet.
Should the ice allow the bowling ball to bounce along would be a looks good ball?

The next go around a low level check for the gray color in the track of that ball.
Ice looking white gives a good sign it ok, gray mean ice to thin
Checking Ice oh so important pilot’s ice knowledge,
Watching the aircraft you flew in, sink to it wings ice too thin.

And the Helicopter extraction plus the cost, I got use my knowledge.
Make sure the Ice is strong and safe, got to make sure ice isn’t too thin.
Oh, that nut at it again, spitting out those descriptive words about his sin,
A cold wind stabbed like a driven spears, what else can happen, before I turn in.

Freezing in a cock-pit, listen to a nut over the Great Divide driving cold winds.
The wings are icing over soon I have to land, why am in trouble I didn’t sin.
There is no doubt about it I got to go down find a lake to land on,

I have called on God in this day to help with my troubles Lord,
When in the very thick of these fight words the left wind still,
The aircraft started turned in circles spinning, I got stop it, O Lord.
I must see where to head this aircraft, hope’s there is a lake in sight,

Ice on the left wing caused to lose its lift and we’re going down,
Around and around we went, I got get control before we hit the ground.
Jagged mountain peaks look like a picket fence in my blurred sight.
Many things running through my brain, for control I got to fight,

There is no accept from this proven worth to get the right wing down,
Just going around and around more important in quit panicking flight,
Call that descriptive friend get ready to crash we are going down.
Feeling guilty and if you wanting live; he comes back where are we landing?

Yet no deliverance could come from this wondering blurred sight,
I make the call, activated the emergency beacon, and just missed that peak in flight.
Oh, the lake landing got it flatten out there it is, in sight.
Should I put the gear down? No, this is a fixed gear.

Got watch the ice if its soft, no heck I would have to go around again,
Kept the nose up let wheels touch down on the main gear.
Sure hope the ice isn’t soft and it’s the only one change again.
Things running through my brain, for control I get wheels down on the ice,

This lake isn’t very long, got to stop it, easy on the brakes, skidding on ice.
Control skid only by forward movement, the engine still running melting ice.
No deliverance the descriptive friend is at it again skidding on lake ice.
Just then his dark red Wyoming Ale came spuming out all over the cockpit.

Stopped just a few feet from forest trees line, I got out and fell on the ice.
Fell face down busting my face on the ice.
Before I got up, I say thank you Lord for my life.

Goose egg knot between my eyes nose dripping with red,
No, I didn’t cremate Billy Joe Meckee
I knew it in my heart, the Lord wouldn’t allow me.