Why Danbury Airport You Might Ask?
Photo Courtesy of Brenda Grover
The home of “Tommy the Texan” is a local airport located on the West side of a small New England City/Town. Danbury Municipal Airport, DXR, in Danbury Connecticut.
When I was very young, around 4 or 5, this small uncontrolled, now towered, airport became the focal point of my very existence. Dad would take me there on the weekends as part of our morning run to get me out of mom’s hair, sit me on the roof of our 1951 Chevrolet 2 door green coupe, so I could watch airplanes take off and land.
It was then, and for the most part still is, a small airport much like those all over rural America. It has two runways situated in somewhat of a bowl, surrounded by the hills on three sides. One facing East, 080, West, 260, and North, 350, and South, 170. Done so to avoid the hills as much as possible.
It was then and still is my “Mecca.” My home field, where I learned about Aviation and learned to fly. It was a time when kids, followed by their parents, could wander the old grass and uneven cracked and faded asphalt ramps as they gazed and dreamed of flight in so many types of aircraft. The Aeronca Champs, Piper Cubs, Pacers, Vagabonds and the ‘New” Tri-pacer. There were the Cessnas, 120s, 140s and 170s. And on occasion, the elusive Beechcraft Stagger Wing or Fairchild. I have many fond memories of those drives with my Father. My Mother never wanted me to fly.
I lived just about three miles from the field so a buddy of mine and I would take off on our bikes, a 26” Huffy in my case, and traverse the hills with our lunch in a brown paper bag, headed off to see what was new at the airport. There is a road that completely encircles the field so we could visit all four FBOs, or Fixed Base Operators, all but one of which were friendly. All were in the sales business, and had all the latest airplanes.
My buddy got himself hired on and was washing and sweeping the hangar for rides. Soon, I joined in. We rode the back seat of an Aeronca Champ at the (now defunct) Danbury School of Aeronautics. A precious thirty minutes in the air for a weekends worth of washing, waxing, fueling, and sweeping the hangar. We at times listened intently to the Instructors and others ‘Hangar Flying’ on their down time, while sitting in the white and green metal ‘Sea Shell’ chairs. The chairs were lined up along the front of the old round top roof, glass and cinderblock hangar. All at the age of 14.
So, you see it was only fitting that this series of stories of “The Adventures of Tommy the Texan and Captain Billy” should call Danbury Airport home. It is where it all began for me.
Blue Skys and Tailwinds,
Captain Billy