Great article on local Flight Instructor Martha Lunken - a DPE, former FAA Inspector, a little crotchety in a professional way (
@HAL Pilot would like her). Her C180 Skywagon is a GA fixture here - and she's a bad ass flying under a local landmark bridge. Her only crime is she got caught! I've had a number of students who were fortunate to have her as a DPE.
Martha Lunken had this coming, and I'm glad it caught up with her.
I quit reading Flying Magazine about 10 years ago, mainly due to the arrogant, unprofessional, and even dangerous stuff she thinks it cool and ok. Yes, she is a cowboy... and in an unprofessional way.
Flying published an article back on 8 March 2013 written by her. I found out about it when one of my Navy buds sent a bunch of us the article and the letter he wrote to the Editor. A bunch of us subsequently sent in letters. If you go look at Flying's archives of Lunken's articles, you won't find the 8 March 2013 article.
I found a copy of page 2 in my files, but not page 1. I'll post it for your reading pleasure. She talks about how she is able to cutoff corporate jets in the pattern and make them go-around. Nice. Professional. Keep in mind, she was an FAA DPE. And then having her student make such a bogus radio call... just unbelievable that a CFI would tell a flight student to do this. As I said, she had written stuff that caused me to avoid Flying Magazine before 8 March 2013. Bottom line: she got what she deserved. She might be a local aviation hero to some, but I hope she never gets her certificates back.
"Now, before you read further, please understand that prudence and discretion have never been my strong points and sometimes, even now, I marvel at my lack of maturity and good sense. But, c’mon, grinding endlessly and mindlessly around a traffic pattern in a Cessna 150 affords far too much time to cook up mischief. Sure enough, downwind one afternoon in N50551, I heard a Company GII call about 12 miles out on a visual approach. The tower had already cleared us for a touch and go, and as we turned base I told the student I’d “demonstrate” this one. Remember how you could fly a 150 really slow with full flaps and lots of power — so slow that with any wind you could practically hover?
This wouldn’t happen today but big corporate jets were still pretty new and the tower didn’t have radar and was covered up with traffic on two runways. When the controller sent The Company GII around for traffic (us), I felt a shiver of excitement. I know, I know, immature, unprofessional, unfriendly, risky, inefficient, wasteful, polluting, immoral, costly, bad for the environment and the economy. As Sister Mary Adelaide checked on my third-grade report card: “Does not exercise self-control.”
I was flying a variety of little airplanes, including my beloved Pietenpol Air Camper, there was a large staff of controllers on duty and lots of corporate airplanes in the mix. So nobody noticed any pattern and over the next few months I scored four or five more go-arounds on Company airplanes. A friend who worked in one of the local plants found some little round stickers with the distinctive “moon and stars” logo, which I carefully affixed beneath the pilot-side window of the little red Cessna 150 — one for each “kill.”
When the chief pilot, John Luchow, finally got wind of what was happening, it wasn’t pretty. After reading me the riot act he met with the tower chief, maybe the airport manager, the mayor and even God! Nothing was said, but whenever there was a Company airplane within 25 miles I was banished from the traffic pattern, allowed re-entry only when it was securely on the ground and clear of the runway.
But then came a day …
My student called ready to go and we were cleared for takeoff when The Company called from way out — way, way out. Naturally, the controller cancelled our takeoff clearance, which left me steaming — and not just from the heat and humidity of the July morning. I started thinking, Dick King was quite good with radio communications and he had a deep, resonant, “Chuck Yeager” voice.
“Dick, key the mike and say, ‘That’s OK, tower, let that Cessna out.’”
“What?” he asked.
“Just do it. Say, ‘That’s OK, let the Cessna take off.’”
“Uh, that’s OK tower, let the Cessna out.”
The surprised controller cleared us for takeoff, and I had arrived at a moment of truth. That little voice was telling me to take the runway and then fool around with “radio failure” or start rolling but reject the takeoff with a “problem.” Thank heavens I either remembered Sister Mary Adelaide or that pesky guardian angel of mine firmly stepped in and stifled the seductive voice urging me to go for another sticker under the cockpit window.
We took off into the wild blue, The Company landed and Miss Martha and her flying school went on to fly another day."