Grown men don't hide their tears here. When the rumble of four Rolls-Royce Merlin engines comes roaring across the tarmac, they can't help it. That ominous drone, the soundtrack of a generation forged in war, lets loose the waterworks.
"That's the most beautiful sound you'll ever hear in your life," yells volunteer Ron Cruse as he watches the wing-mounted Merlins heave a 63-year-old Lancaster bomber into the grey skies around Hamilton International Airport. "People come here and they'll never forget that sound for the rest of their lives."
Today, the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum will celebrate 20 years of operating the Lancaster. For every hour of flight over those years, a crew of mechanics at the museum has worked on it for 17.
They aren't paid. None of the mechanics here are. Most come for the camaraderie and a chance to rub shoulders with history.
They are not alone. Over the years, as the list of retired aircraft models grows longer, more planes are finding their way into museum collections.
More than 60 vintage planes are flown out of museum collections across the country. At least that many more sit in private collections. The people taking care of them donate their time and risk their lives to keep these pieces of history in the air.
Those risks were underscored on Sunday when a father-and-son team crash-landed near Langley airport aboard a 1936 Fairchild F24. They emerged relatively unscathed, but the plane they had spent years refurbishing lay in pieces.
"It is a beautiful plane," said Bruce Guest, 82, whose son Jeff was piloting the Fairchild when the engine quit. "We spent 13 ½ years on the rebuild."
On Monday, Jeff Guest and friends were collecting debris from the crash site in hopes of restoring the craft.
Visit any of the 20 or so museum hangars across the country and you're likely to witness the same level of dedication.
"It's not a hobby," explained Denis Schryer, a pilot with the Canadian Historical Aircraft Association in Windsor, Ont. "It's not a pastime. It's part of your soul. In my case, it's what defines me. I don't know what I'd be doing if I weren't flying these old planes."
At the Warplane Heritage Museum, volunteer prop-heads come from all walks of life. On the crew that maintains the Lancaster alone, there are a couple of ex-Air Canada pilots, a former steel worker and a retired cop.
For those with aeronautical backgrounds, it's a continuation of a life they loved.
"I didn't work for a living," said 75-year-old Lancaster pilot Richard Pulley, an Air Canada pilot for 37 years. "I flew airplanes."
It took Mr. Pulley a while to adjust from modern jets to vintage bombers. The lack of a steerable nose wheel, especially, can make for tricky landings and takeoffs. "Planes with nose wheels will track relatively straight," said Mr. Pulley. "When the Lanc starts yawing off the runway, she'll keep on yawing unless you wrestle her back."
Even so, he doesn't worry about safety. The Department of Transportation inspects vintage planes just as thoroughly as commercial ones. And every winter, the crew disassembles the Lanc into a thousand or more pieces, exposing each of its 48 cylinders and 96 spark plugs. The cost of repairs can be exorbitant due to the rarity of parts. A single engine overhaul can cost $100,000 and a new tire can cost $8,000.
"If it weren't for volunteers donating 570,000 or so hours to us a year, we would never survive," said museum CEO David Rohrer.
Those who don't come from aeronautical backgrounds are just as useful. Carpenters restore the vintage woodwork aboard the planes. Engineers work on the engines. Metal workers fabricate entire parts.
