Not Ken. He befriended the old bastard.
Ken relished running errands to the head shed, with all its potential for chance encounters with the legendary beast. He’d hope to engage him and bring back exaggerated stories to entertain his section comrades. We called Ken a brown nose and worse, secretly envied him, and mocked him for kissing up to his “Daddy.” Ken loved it.
Ironically, we didn’t know it then, but Ken had no Dad.
Ken had signed up for flight school, but his eyesight betrayed him, so the Army re-assigned him to a burial detail and he comforted grieving widows for a time. Ken knew grief. Then he moved on to the Army happy news department, where we met.
A good ol’ boy with a slight drawl, his fearless, somewhat pugnacious attitude would serve throughout his life as a cheerful fighting country publisher, once taking on a corrupt sheriff who threatened to burn his house down or something; then his segment on 60 Minutes, and a book exposing dirty doings.
He is nothing if not courageous, dogged and persistent.
Today Amazon delivered my copy of Flight 7 is Missing; the Search for My Father’s Killer by Ken H. Fortenberry. It’s his lifelong project researching the circumstances of the 1957 crash into the Pacific of a Pan American World Airways flight returning from Hawaii. The co-pilot and navigator was also the father of six year old Kenny.
Dubbed by The New York Times as one of the "most vexing and unexplained" mysteries in aviation history, the tragedy resulted in 44 deaths and remains officially unsolved to this day.
My wife unwrapped the book when it finally came and “forgot” to tell me. She had completed 14 pages before I said “Aha!” Unfortunately, it’s her birthday weekend so, after a quick scan, I indulged her until she nods off tonight. But I could see from the reviews and a brief look that his meticulous unraveling reveals a willingness to go where others have not. His persistence has drawn a conclusion that’s undeniable: It was murder.
His “Daddy” would have admired him— and so would his Father.
I know I do.
Now if I could just get my hands on the book.
