Over the years, the familys property in Newbury, Ohio, became the stuff of legends. Over the years, the family's property in Newbury, Ohio, became the stuff of legends.
(Jim Harley)

The Soplata Airplane Sanctuary

Of the 20 stray aircraft his father rescued, the author remembers that first bomber best.

  • By Wally Soplata
  • Air & Space Magazine, November 01, 2007

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    DESPITE HIS HUMBLE BEGINNINGS as the penniless son of Czech immigrants, my father, Walter Soplata, amassed an extraordinary collection of warbirds. He grew up fascinated by airplanes during the Great Depression, using whatever money he could scrape up to build balsa model aircraft. When World War II broke out, a stutter disqualified him from military service.

    Dad took a job in a Cleveland, Ohio scrapyard, junking thousands of warplane engines that were suddenly declared surplus. In this job, he foresaw the near extinction of the nation’s historic aircraft. He felt he had to take action.

    On land in Newbury, east of Cleveland, he began his airplane collection in 1947 with a late-1920s American Eagle biplane. A Vultee BT-15 trainer was next, and then in the early 1950s the big iron: a Vought/Goodyear FG-1D Corsair followed by another but much rarer F2G Corsair. The second Corsair, with an experimental brute-power R-4360 engine, had taken first place in the 1947 Cleveland National Air Races. My father went for the rare types: a prototype North American XP-82 Twin Mustang, then an F-82E Twin Mustang with Allison engines, an early Jet Age Chance-Vought F7U Cutlass, and a prototype of the Douglas AD Skyraider series.

    In the early 1950s, my parents had four daughters and me, the only child who would pursue a career in aviation. I started in general aviation, then became an Air Force pilot and, later, an airline pilot. I cut my teeth on a twin-engine T-50 Cessna Bobcat—the type Sky King flew in the early years of the eponymous TV series—that I helped my father dismantle and haul by trailer in 1961. But of all the aircraft we dragged home, I recall most clearly a down-and-out B-25: my father’s first bomber.

    One day in 1964, Dad and I were glued to our black-and-white TV set watching Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, in which Spencer Tracy played Jimmy Doolittle leading 16 B-25 crews from the deck of the USS Hornet to bomb Japan. Dad was like a kid excited by a commercial for a toy he just had to have. He wanted a B-25.

    When you consider that our home was constructed primarily of lumber from warbird engine crates discarded at a smelter where he’d worked a few years earlier, it was amazing he could think such a thing. That job had provided a meager income, and then he turned to carpentry. The housing market proved sporadic, but Dad had nonetheless managed to start an airplane collection that was already impressive. My sisters and I had the perfect clubhouse: a Fairchild C-82 Boxcar fuselage like the one in the original Flight of the Phoenix movie.

    Dad rarely paid more than a few hundred bucks for an airplane. In the early 1960s, a warbird’s price was usually determined by whatever its weight would bring at the scrapyard. Regardless of our dismal financial situation, when Dad pined for a particular treasure, it was likely he would get one. Sure enough, before long a visitor touring Dad’s collection had a tip.

    “There’s a B-25 down at Lunken Airport in Cincinnati that made a gear-up belly landing a few years ago,” he said. “I heard they’re going to cut it up and scrap it soon.”

    1 2 3 4 5 6

    DESPITE HIS HUMBLE BEGINNINGS as the penniless son of Czech immigrants, my father, Walter Soplata, amassed an extraordinary collection of warbirds. He grew up fascinated by airplanes during the Great Depression, using whatever money he could scrape up to build balsa model aircraft. When World War II broke out, a stutter disqualified him from military service.

    Dad took a job in a Cleveland, Ohio scrapyard, junking thousands of warplane engines that were suddenly declared surplus. In this job, he foresaw the near extinction of the nation’s historic aircraft. He felt he had to take action.

    On land in Newbury, east of Cleveland, he began his airplane collection in 1947 with a late-1920s American Eagle biplane. A Vultee BT-15 trainer was next, and then in the early 1950s the big iron: a Vought/Goodyear FG-1D Corsair followed by another but much rarer F2G Corsair. The second Corsair, with an experimental brute-power R-4360 engine, had taken first place in the 1947 Cleveland National Air Races. My father went for the rare types: a prototype North American XP-82 Twin Mustang, then an F-82E Twin Mustang with Allison engines, an early Jet Age Chance-Vought F7U Cutlass, and a prototype of the Douglas AD Skyraider series.

    In the early 1950s, my parents had four daughters and me, the only child who would pursue a career in aviation. I started in general aviation, then became an Air Force pilot and, later, an airline pilot. I cut my teeth on a twin-engine T-50 Cessna Bobcat—the type Sky King flew in the early years of the eponymous TV series—that I helped my father dismantle and haul by trailer in 1961. But of all the aircraft we dragged home, I recall most clearly a down-and-out B-25: my father’s first bomber.

    One day in 1964, Dad and I were glued to our black-and-white TV set watching Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, in which Spencer Tracy played Jimmy Doolittle leading 16 B-25 crews from the deck of the USS Hornet to bomb Japan. Dad was like a kid excited by a commercial for a toy he just had to have. He wanted a B-25.

    When you consider that our home was constructed primarily of lumber from warbird engine crates discarded at a smelter where he’d worked a few years earlier, it was amazing he could think such a thing. That job had provided a meager income, and then he turned to carpentry. The housing market proved sporadic, but Dad had nonetheless managed to start an airplane collection that was already impressive. My sisters and I had the perfect clubhouse: a Fairchild C-82 Boxcar fuselage like the one in the original Flight of the Phoenix movie.

    Dad rarely paid more than a few hundred bucks for an airplane. In the early 1960s, a warbird’s price was usually determined by whatever its weight would bring at the scrapyard. Regardless of our dismal financial situation, when Dad pined for a particular treasure, it was likely he would get one. Sure enough, before long a visitor touring Dad’s collection had a tip.

    “There’s a B-25 down at Lunken Airport in Cincinnati that made a gear-up belly landing a few years ago,” he said. “I heard they’re going to cut it up and scrap it soon.”

    Scrapped? To Dad, the thought was unbearable. He tracked down the owner who was going to scrap the B-25 and convinced the man to sell it to him for $500.

    Now Dad faced the problem of getting the airplane home without destroying it. Since none of the aircraft Dad acquired was flyable, each one had to be hauled on a highway, so the size of each aircraft was a major consideration. Most of the airplanes he hauled were fighters or trainers—relatively small. Even though the B-25 was much smaller than, say, a B-17, it was still a big airplane.

    Compounding Dad’s hauling concerns, he couldn’t afford a truck. All he had were the family’s 1957 Chevy Suburban and a two-wheel trailer he had fashioned from the chassis of a delivery van. Though the Suburban was an old rusty clunker, it had proven itself two years earlier when hauling the heavy wings of an F7U Cutlass jet he had won for $200 on a Navy surplus bid. But the Suburban was no match for the long, heavy fuselage of the twin-engine jet. Instead, Dad hauled the fuselage home by stuffing it in a junked schoolbus (but that’s another story).

    On a Saturday in October, Dad, my three older sisters, and I hit the road for Cincinnati before dawn. At 15, Rita was the oldest, with Barb and Margie filling in the four-year gap between Rita and me. The 200-mile drive to Cincinnati was a big adventure. We passed the early-morning hours by playing games and singing “100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall” (the Suburban had no radio).

    On the down side, the Suburban, with five aboard, was cramped. Along with snacks, drinks, books, and blankets was all of Dad’s equipment: toolboxes, a stepladder, cables, chains, two bomb winches, a few jacks, and assorted wood blocks. In addition, there were spare parts for the Suburban plus several spare tires, since the bald ones Dad drove on were prone to let go. Still, except for having to rest our feet on rusty toolboxes, we were comfy.

    When we reached Lunken Airport, Dad got permission to drive onto the ramp and we parked next to the B-25. Despite the story of the belly landing, the bomber, basically intact, was standing on its landing gear.

    Dad’s new airplane was in civilian markings, with a Federal Aviation Agency (as it was then called) N-number on the rear fuselage. As a military-turned-civil aircraft, it was missing its gun turrets and bomb racks, though we would discover armor-plated pilot seats and a big steel ring where the top gun turret had been installed.

    As expected, the belly landing had ripped much of the aluminum from the bottom of the fuselage. From watching war movies with Dad, I had expected the propeller blades to be bent and curled, but only the prop on the left engine showed this kind of damage. On the copilot side of the forward fuselage, “WILD CARGO” was crudely painted in big black letters.

    “I just can’t believe it,” Dad grinned. “It’s like they made this plane to be hauled down the highway!” He showed me that all the major sections were bolted together in just the right places to allow damage-free disassembly. The forward fuselage could be unbolted in front of the wing, and the aft fuselage behind the wing. The outboard wings unbolted just beyond the engines, and even the engine nacelles unbolted slightly aft of the wing.

    To Dad, the realization was like learning that the airplane would not be sacrificed to the gods. What he most hated about hauling airplanes was that some had to be cut to fit on the highway, and if a major section of the structure was cut, the airplane would be difficult to put back together and restore to flying condition.

    Dad was still in mourning over his first Twin Mustang, the prototype XP-82. To haul it home, he destroyed the wing by cutting it with a torch—only later to discover bolts in a different part of the structure that would have made the torch job unnecessary. He was sick about it.

    When he got his second Twin Mustang, he had learned his lesson and hauled it without any cutting. For every airplane that followed the XP-82, Dad studied the airframe carefully before deciding to cut anything.

    Our quick study of the B-25 concluded, Dad went into General Patton mode and got all of us busy turning wrenches and screwdrivers. Usually I was the only one with him on trips for airplanes, but on this trip I appreciated having my sisters along; they proved to be a big help, especially Barb, who knew wrenches, sockets, and other tools by name, size, and use.

    Dad would come to describe this first trip as “the easy load.” We removed all the small components— tail section, wing flaps, ailerons, landing gear doors and bomb bay doors—loaded them on the trailer, and took them home.

    Dad had picked his words well: Nothing was easy after that. The first major disassembly we tackled was removing the outboard wings. From the outside, the wings looked relatively simple to remove, and Dad took just me to get them.

    Along the top and bottom of the wing joint, a long row of bolts stuck into the wing, with their 9/16-inch heads protruding. Easy job, we thought. We got on top of the left outboard wing. Dad started on the first bolt, which turned without much difficulty, but that was it. It turned and turned and turned but didn’t even begin to come out. He put his socket on another bolt, and another, with the same result. “Don’t tell me they didn’t put self-holding nut plates inside the wing!” he exclaimed.

    We got off the wing, and soon Dad had his wobbly stepladder under it. Good news and bad: An oil cooler was located at each wing joint, with an access panel under the cooler. But the cooler bled thick, black oil when removed, and after the cooler was out, we still could not reach half the nuts for the wing bolts.

    Dad cut the rivets that held the air ducts for the oil cooler. With the ducts removed, I was able to snake my skinny shoulders through the oil cooler opening and into the wing. Struggling with claustrophobia, plus the fear I’d get stuck inside the jagged structure, I spent hours contorted in the wing as I moved my wrench from one nut to the next while Dad spun the bolts out from outside.

    When it came time to pull the last bolts and remove the wing, we had another problem that would confront us on most airplane-hauling endeavors. We didn’t have a crane or lift. To solve the problem this time, Dad made a pair of H-shaped wood frames to hold the wing as the bolts were removed. A genius at making a hard job easy by constructing something cheap and simple, Dad connected the H-frames to the trailer in a way that allowed them to fold down to the trailer. Using an old bomb winch to control the rate at which the H-frames folded, we lowered the wing to the trailer. Now we were halfway done with this part of the ordeal.

    We worked on the bomber every weekend that October and on into November. Many local aviation enthusiasts stopped by, and from them we learned a lot about the bomber, including the story of how the B-25 had ended up at Lunken nearly two years earlier.

    As the story went, a man from Louisiana used the bomber to take a diverse collection of exotic animals from city to city—thus the name Wild Cargo. En route to Cincinnati for a show, the right engine had failed. The pilot reported to Lunken Tower that his landing gear was inoperative and declared an emergency. While the pilot circled Lunken to burn fuel, the copilot parachuted out, an event that was captured on camera by local news teams. Despite having an engine out, no landing gear, and an extreme crosswind, the pilot, by all accounts, made a perfect landing.

    After the wings, we tackled the rear fuselage. Though it wasn’t that heavy, it was so long that we had more fuselage hanging off the trailer than riding on it. Making matters worse, we had the narrow end (tail gunner position) of the fuselage on the front of Dad’s two-wheel trailer. Though this arrangement allowed us to get the narrow tailcone up close to the Suburban’s rear doors to allow room for turning, it also meant the wide and heavy end of the fuselage was sticking far beyond the back of the trailer. On the highway, the load handled badly and was prone to sway left and right, limiting our speed to about 40 mph.

    On another trip, we put both of the airplane’s twin-row R-2600 radial engines on the trailer together. Though the load was well balanced, the engines were very heavy. It was bad enough we didn’t have a truck, but even worse, Dad’s Suburban wasn’t too powerful. It sported a straight-six engine with a three-speed transmission that shifted on the steering column; today, people wouldn’t use a vehicle like that to pull a jet ski. Here we were dragging a World War II bomber 200 miles.

    The last 20 miles of our journey consisted of some big hills in Ohio’s Chagrin Valley, and Dad was nervous, with good reason. While pulling the pair of B-25 engines up one of the hills, he had trouble down-shifting into first gear. Halfway up the hill we almost stalled out. With the Suburban built before the age of power brakes and no brakes on the trailer, I later had nightmares about those heavy bomber engines taking us for a rip-roaring backward ride down that long steep hill.

    The center section of the wing with both engine nacelles, both main landing gear, and the bomb bay proved to be the heaviest and most unstable load. Still, it represented the last load. Approaching the dreaded hill, Dad shifted into first gear while we were still on flat pavement. To our relief, the Suburban’s little six was up to the task, though just barely.

    Well past midnight when we got home, Dad cruised from our dirt driveway out into the field next to it. Under the light of the stars, he parked the trailer and center wing behind the cockpit section, to some extent reuniting the shadowy silhouettes. And with that, a stray-dog B-25, once hours away from the scrapman’s torch, had found a home.

    We hauled airplanes through the early 1970s. We brought home a second, nearly airworthy B-25 in 1966. Also that year, we got a Republic P-47 Thunderbolt fuselage, a North American F-86 Sabre fuselage, and a complete Lockheed P-80 Shooting Star, an early pre-ejection-seat model. Oddest of those we hauled that year, a wrecked B-57 Canberra bomber was dreadfully difficult to dismantle in the bitter cold winter.

    In my father, Mom saw a man driven by a strong work ethic both in his carpenter job and in his passion for airplanes. The only time she put up a fight was over the purchase of yet another FG-1D Corsair in 1960, which was likely the best deal he ever made. He paid $200 for an aircraft in excellent shape. Except for tattered fabric, it was virtually airworthy. Mom had a fit because he hadn’t told her in advance. Her first clue was seeing one of the blue outboard wings coming down the dirt road on the trailer behind our clunker Chevy.

    Mom has often told me that when women at church ask her why she puts up with her husband’s collection, her standard reply is “At least I always know where my husband is.”

    The year 1966 appeared to be the time when military administrators suddenly discovered they no longer had World War II aircraft for the air museums they were building. Navy and Marine Corps representatives came by, all but begging Dad for his FG-1D Corsair.

    Dad was dismayed by the military’s lack of foresight, and their stricter regulations. By 1966, surplus military aircraft could not be released to civilians unless they had been demilitarized, which essentially meant cut up into small pieces. Had such a policy existed in the 1940s and 50s, it’s likely that Corsairs, Hellcats, and Thunderbolts could have ended up like the Douglas TBD Devastator. Not a single Devastator remains. Thus, despite the wrecked condition of the B-57, and the even worse condition of a Convair B-36 bomber Dad got after the Air Force destroyed, or demilitarized it, he acquired these and other shattered airplanes, to some degree, as monuments to the government’s wholesale destruction of its obsolete military aircraft. Dad continues to hang on to the wreckage of two U.S. Navy Blue Angel jets, an F-11 Tiger and F-4 Phantom II, that crashed during airshows.

    His engine collection numbers 50 or so. He once had the first engine ever made by the Allison Engine Company, which he happened to get when a scrap dealer friend didn’t have the heart to scrap the rare engine—he knew Dad would give it a home. It’s now on display at the New England Air Museum at Bradley International Airport in Connecticut.

    Up through 1972, Dad and I collected aircraft purchased from private individuals, aviation schools, and other non-military sources—a Douglas B-26, two Grumman TBM Avengers, a North American SNJ Texan, a Curtiss O-52 Owl.

    The warbird restoration movement picked up steam about then, with others snapping up the last of the cheap and derelict World War II aircraft. Prices skyrocketed, knocking Dad out of the market. Also that year, I enlisted in the Air Force as an electronics technician and a few years later attended Air Force ROTC to become an officer and a pilot, breaking up our father-and-son airplane-hauling team.

    On Sunday afternoons in the 1960s and 70s, it was common to have 30 or so visitors touring the Soplata collection. Parents and kids could climb into the cockpits of a BT-13, BT-15, T-50, T-28, SNJ Texan, FG-1D Corsair, F2G Corsair, TBM Avenger, AD Skyraider, F-82E Twin Mustang, P-80 Shooting Star, F-84F Thunderstreak, F-86L Sabre, F7U Cutlass, B-25J, Douglas B-26, and a P2V Neptune. But for the past 20 years, Dad’s collection has been closed to visitors. Now 83 and a regular on the flea market circuit, Dad has expanded the scope of his collecting to include anything and everything. To support his perpetual appetite for collecting, many of his aircraft have been sold. The first to go, in 1986, was Wild Cargo, which was restored for flight in 2005. It is the first of Dad’s refugees to fly again.

    The P-80 is owned by the National Museum of Naval Aviation in Pensacola, Florida. The F-82E Twin Mustang is being restored to airworthiness in Minnesota. The F2G Corsair belongs to Cleveland’s Crawford Auto-Aviation Museum and is partially restored for static display while awaiting funds for completion. The status of a basket-case P-51 sold in the 1980s remains undetermined.

    As Dad’s collecting eventually dominated every facet of family life, my sisters and I simply learned to fend for ourselves, finding after-school jobs to pay for things we needed. That said, my sisters and I all agree we are stronger adults, perhaps because of our childhood experience. To this day, we all remain on good terms, with “tolerance” being a word we all know well. There hasn’t been a family gathering at my parents’ home in over 30 years. There simply isn’t room.


     
    Comments

    I venture up to Geauga County about once a week and I have heard of the mythic air museum built by Mr. Soplato. I do hope to meet him some day and thank him, for I spent a lot of time in Marine Helicopters and Fixed Wing aircraft in Vietnam, while serving in the Marine Air Wing. I do appreciate his and family's sacrifice through the years. I may meet him at a flea market. Joe Clarke Akron

    Posted by joe clarke on April 12,2008 | 08:39PM

    I live for most of my 32 years living less than a mile away. Locals call it the airplane graveyard. Some of my best memories are of playing tag and capture the flag in the skeletons of the planes. Great article. I never quite knew the history behind the planes.

    Posted by Dave Donaldson on April 14,2008 | 06:55PM

    I live in Bainbridge and have heard of this airplane graveyard but could never find it. Can anyone tell me the location?

    Posted by Mike on May 6,2008 | 09:22AM

    My husband and I drove out to Newbury today and stopped in at the home of Mr.Soplata. We both had a keen interest in visiting his airplane collection as my husband and I had both visited his yard early in our lives (as children). I had seen one of his last planes being hauled in on Route 87 on a flat bed with its wings up in the air in the mid 1970's. I had also played in his yard ( unbeknownst to him ) and have great memories of sitting in a few of the old planes. We were lucky to meet Mr. Soplata and spent an hour or so chatting with him about his hobby. He is going to be 85 this October and is unable to continue collecting very much more due to many regulations about military planes and of course his age and health. However, he has continued collections of other items like airplane books etc.. He shared with us his love of airplanes, discussed his history of collecting and showed us some of his favorite pieces in his yard. He explained that he has had to stop doing interviews because whenever he has a publication it creates many problems with visitors coming to his home. He was very codial and friendly with us and we enjoyed our visit. I took a few videos and if anyone wants one I can send it over via e-mail. Karen

    Posted by Karen on May 25,2008 | 02:19PM

    I understand this man's hobby for airplanes but let's not forget about the environment. While many may have enjoyed the airplane collection our environment is a gift that we should all preserve. I challenge Mr. Soplata to clean up after himself rather then force this on future generations. Private property or not we all are accountable for how we care for this earth.

    Posted by Bill on June 19,2008 | 09:23AM

    Hi Bill, You certainly have your work cut out for you, telling everyone to keep a clean earth!

    Posted by Cliff Leverette on June 19,2008 | 11:05AM

    I challenge Bill to mind his own business. This collection is not harming the environment. Rather, it's a testament to the aviation history of this nation and those that served and fought in those aircraft. Bravo, Mr Soplata.

    Posted by Steve on June 19,2008 | 06:34PM

    Many would disagree with you Steve. Nothing last forever, and the future generations are the ones that have to clean up after ones that are here at present. While it is interesting to see understand the history of the world let's not forget that weapons of war kill people and cause pain no matter what side one is on.

    Posted by Bill on June 27,2008 | 09:20AM

    What a great story!! I hope there are some other of these collections not known about. I've toured Davis-Monthan in Tucson several times, brings tears to my eyes every time. Thankfully, the Pima Air Museum is close by and brings a lot of excitement back when you tour their place. Only wish they could put more planes inside. Thanks for posting this story.

    Posted by John Hamilton on June 29,2008 | 09:36PM

    SIR, MY BROTHER-IN-LAW IS BUILDING A DIARAMA OF COLONEL CY WILSON'S F-82E. HIS QUESTION IS, DOES THE CENTER WING HAVE CONTROL SURFACE? I HAVE A BOOK FROM MY TIME WITH THE 27 FIGHTER ESCORT WING WITH THE COLONEL'S OLD 97. THE PICTURE IS SO POOR I CANNOT TELL IF THERE IS A FLAPP. THANKS DAVID

    Posted by David A. Britt on July 2,2008 | 03:35PM

    I first heard about Walter in a book called 'Hunting warbirds'.What an amazing guy he must be. And all those people over there lucky enough to meet him. I read his stories of hauling planes home, to save them from the smelter, and wish there were people in this country like him. I guess there are, but I think there was some law prohibiting civillians from purchasing ex - military aircraft after the war.I have seen photographs of acres and acres of Ausralian air force Spitfires & Mustangs, in a storage area here, all waiting to be chopped up. There's never a time machine around when you need one!

    Posted by Glen - Melbourne, Australia. on July 13,2008 | 02:41PM

    I had the opportunity to visit Walter two days ago, July 28 2008, and spent about six hours with him and his wife talking about his life and collection and crawling over the airplanes. I've been around airplanes for over 60 years and I must say that this day is one I'll never forget. It is amazing how he knows the details of every piece of his collection and where its located. A fine and interesting person who is a legend in aviation. A fantastic trip through aviation history.

    Posted by Paul Good on July 30,2008 | 02:37PM

    In 1971 I was in college and learning to fly in Northern California. I jumped at an opportunity for a lot of cheap dual cross-country instruction when my instructor was going to fly his father's Aeronca 7AC back to upstate New York. No light/radio/electrical system, navigating by following highways. On the third day of the trip, we stopped for fuel in Ohio, and found that we were near the Soplata farm, and spent several hours looking at the wonderfulness of it all. It was the high point of the journey for me.

    Posted by Steve Hix on August 22,2008 | 09:52PM

    I was made aware of this collection by the Author's son William when he worked with me as a computer repair technician. I was always leery about the stories but now I am a "true believer". Hope that the Daytom Museum and Pensacola, or even the Smithsonian, can "get off of their duffs" and resurect these historical airframes to, at a minimum, oustanding static displays of original equipment.

    Posted by Kenneth Jones on September 10,2008 | 05:30PM

    I thank everyone for their input on my grand-father's collection. Just wanted to make sure everyone knows that he is always happy to talk about his collection but wants to makes sure that no one goes into see them without his company. Years ago he used to allow anyone to go see them whenever they wanted but people started stealing parts off them and at times damaging his property. For the concern about nature, his collection is grand-fathered in and because such is not effected by zoning laws. Not only that he owns most of the adjacent land so not to have to worry about bothering anyone. He hopes that none of his planes will ever fly again, but instead someday find their way into museums. If one of his planes were taken up and crashed then future generations might not get to view them. That is what why he feels people should build and fly replicas instead.

    Posted by William A Soplata on September 10,2008 | 06:05PM

    I just read about this magnificant collection and would love to stop by next year when I come home to Ohio. I was born in Dayton and lived near Wright Patterson Air Base during WW II and can remember all those old war birds. I spent my life as a Field Service Rep. for Pratt & Whitney. Please send me an address so that I might be able to stop by. Bob Hufford

    Posted by Bob Hufford on September 15,2008 | 06:33PM

    I met Mr. Soplata when he had his collection at the Youngstown airport in Vienna ohio as I remember some where in the early 90's. He was renting one of the buildings next to the general avation hangers. What a great person. I have had interest in avaition since I was a kid - I had an uncle from Warren Ohio who Got his wings somewhere in Alabama training in BT13's and P51's but the war ended - THANK YOU GOD - guess what? Walter had a BT13 in the building along with the XP82 and others that I can not remember. This building was loaded with anything you could think of - uniforms, flight books, props, wheels etc. too much to list....a kids dream come true - Thank you Walter Soplata. Mr. Soplata talked about starting a museum but did not have enough money so he did sell his Cosair but he would strip copper wire and any kind of scrap that was worth money, I mean spend countless hours doing this to make his dream come true. Due to the lack of excitement of the port athority of Youngstown, not knowing what was under there wing and to become part of avation history they made Walter move his dream out of the building. If I remember corectly I would by chance find Walter there on Sundays and he told me to meet him on Thursday and he would take me to his farm and show me his collection - never made it - worked too much. Memories - better than photos - I want to thank Mr. Soplata for more than words can say. GOD Bless Joe La Duca Warren, Ohio

    Posted by Joseph La Duca on September 20,2008 | 09:01PM

    Fascinating article. I would like some details of the P-47N fusalage. Where was it manufactured, Evansville, IN or Farmingdale, NY? How did he come by it? My home is in Evansville and I would like to see this aircraft be restored to a static display here along with the WWII LST (Landing Ship Tank) that was manufactured here also. I remember hearing of Mr. Soplata years ago when I was on a committee to restore a P-47. That did'nt pan out the way we wanted. This aircraft could be a great tribute to the people & spirit of those Americans in this community. I request you contact me, Mr. Soplata to see if there is any way we can make this dream a reality. You may contact me by e-mail at: TST@insightbb.com Regards, Jeff Fields, Evansville, IN.

    Posted by Jeff Fields on November 2,2008 | 06:39AM

    That was such a great story! I wish I had that kind of relationship with my Dad, I am sure some of his life was a little peculiar at times, but the history and the color, whew, wow! I am sure that the son has many stories like this of his own, let alone his father. I am sorry to hear Mr. Soplata is getting on in years, is he possibly interested in sitting down to do a taping of his recollections? That I am sure would make for a most interesting story to anyone who even remotely enjoys aviation articles. Is there any hope that I can possibly help Mr. Soplata in any way, shape or form? I live nearby, and I can offer any kind of assistance he may need to protect these precious gems from the elements and I am sure the crosstalk would be priceless. Is there a possibly a fund set up for something like this to maintain these airplanes? Wow, I am just blown away, would sooo like to meet either Mr. Soplata and/ or his son, that would be a real pinnacle for me. Is that even possible? I do hate the intrusion on personal lives, but one can only hope. I am not a journalist or anything like that, but I sure would like to try. I am a degreed engineer by trade, and also experienced in materials engineering and failure analysis, and could possibly offer to do an assessment to see what minimal things could be done to prevent further deterioriation and remediate immediate concerns with his collection. And I do mean his collection, because I would not want to see even one rivet leave this special resting place. I have restored some vehicles myself, and I understand his bond and devotion to his posessions. If possible, please pass this along, would just be a real special thing for me to experience. Thank you very much!

    Posted by Dean Christian on November 18,2008 | 12:07PM

    William A Soplata Is it possible to shoot some videos with Walter giving us a tour of his collection and post it on Youtube or his own website. He is a collector of interesting pieces that should be shown to the world. The internet has now made that possible. I'm eagerly waiting.

    Posted by Fred on December 16,2008 | 07:25PM

    I have been an aviation buff all my life and had a chance to visit Mr. Soplata about 20 years a ago and took many good pictures, which I still have. Truly an amazing story and an amazing man. Thank you sir for your incredible contribution to aviation history.

    Posted by John Dill on December 26,2008 | 09:39AM

    This guy is out there, no doubt. He has the only ski equipped P-2V Neptune left in the world and he would not let me come out to photograph it for my web page. It's a damn shame that he keeps these planes locked away to rot in Ohio. At some point he could have sold a few or partnered with someone (Chino Air Museum) to restore them and put them on display.

    Posted by Joe Hawkins on February 3,2009 | 02:41PM

    Joe H.,Walter in the past would welcome visitors but people would vandalize and steal what ever they could get there hands on!!! If you would do some research you also my find that Walter has in the past number of years, sold and even donated many aircraft in his collection to several museums.

    Posted by J. Soplata on February 17,2009 | 06:28PM

    What a fantastic story. I flew over the farm this past weekend and it reminded me of the stories that I had heard of it, but never really knew if they were true. I'm glad to see that they are, and thank you Mr Soplata for your dedication to restoring some of these and saving them from turning into tin cans. I'd love to venture out to your property some day as airplanes have always fascinated me, but I understand you don't like visitors. If there is a way to arrange a visit please write me at johnvnelson at gmail (dot) com. Warmest regards, John

    Posted by John Nelson (Perry Ohio) on March 2,2009 | 10:52AM

    On a Sunday morning in 1980 or so, my dad and I read an article in PARADE magazine about the collection on Mr Soplatas' farm. My father had been a pilot for years, and I was a student at Kent State studying Aerospace Tech., pursuing the dream of being a pilot. After breakfast, we loaded my dads cameras in the car, and drove from our house in Akron to the farm. We were astonished at what we saw there. We were lucky to meet Mr Soplata, see his collection, and visit about all things aviation. I was especially interested to learn that his son was an Air Force pilot, a career I was interested in. (FAST FORWARD about 20 YEARS..) I had graduated and joined the Navy (P-3 Pilot) and after my tour in the Navy got a job with a major airline. One night in our flight operations center, I heard the flight dispatchers page "Walter Soplata" to come to the dispatch desk. I too went to the desk to see if possibly there was a connection to that farm in Ohio... Sure enough, Walter JR was there. I introduced myself, and we chatted about his father and his collection, and his love of aviation and aviation history. We also talked about the visit my father and I made those many years earlier. As it turned out, Walt and I got to fly together, and I enjoyed hearing about his dads plans for the planes' preservation, and his sharing of the stories of the collection expeditions he went on with his father while growing up. God bless Walt Sr. and Walt Jr for being so committed to preserving these aircraft, and the history and technology they represent. Walt Sr had a point, ..sooner than we think, if we're not careful, these aircraft will all be gone, and thier history lost, along with the legacy of the brave young men who flew them in defense of our country and of freedom. P.S...Great job on the website Walt..see you at work. Regards, Jeff

    Posted by Jeff on May 3,2009 | 09:49PM

    I think the son(s) ought to write a book about about their father's hobby. Its certainly a unique and interesting story that deserves more than just a short magazine article.

    Posted by Marc on May 18,2009 | 03:14PM

    I just flew over Walter's place today and it appears most of these wonderful airplanes are still there! I haven't seen him in years but hope he and is wife Peggy are still doing ok! Walter introduced me to flying one afternoon over in Butler,Pa at a ham radio show. He paid a pilot to take me and my brother around the patch in a C182. We had a great time and he continued to encourage me too get as many ratings as possible. I remember flying Walter down too Dayton so he could visit the Air Museum. Another time we flew down too Washington DC and visited the Smithsonian. Walter never failed to tell us great stories and always showed up with a bag of McDonald's breakfast sandwiches and hash browns.

    Posted by Susan Cernava on June 16,2009 | 09:02PM

    I met Mr. Soplata a couple times in my youth...He was a gruff ole cuss, but after he realized we weren't there to steal anything, he gave me and my college buddy a almost 2 hour tour of everything in his field...I remember the B-25 "Wild Cargo" and SNJ with no wings near the house...At the time, he swore his donations were only to be "non flyable", so they wouldn't get destroyed...I remember marveling at the height on the F-7U Cutlass shipboard fighter! Thanks for the memories Walt!

    Posted by Tom Dyer on July 27,2009 | 10:19PM

    Walt was well known for being a real pain in the butt at ham radio swap meets for decades. Cheap, cranky and had sticky fingers.

    Posted by Ticked off ham operator on August 21,2009 | 12:13PM

    Wish I knew him; love warbirds. Hope all of his stuff is properly displayed and dosent get recycled.Keep on going for another 80 years.

    Posted by Carl W9TAD on September 7,2009 | 04:46PM

    Please let your Dad know that the "first engine ever made by the Allison engine Company" is now safely back home in Indianapolis. The Rolls-Royce Heritage Trust, Allison Branch [Rolls purchased Allison's engine plant in 1995] has an Exhibition of historic piston and turbine engines and we are now restoring the X 4520 that he so wonderfully saved! We all thank him! And oh-by-the-way, the 82 year old engine still has the oil in it from its only run in the 1930's.
    We would love to come up and say thanks - and learn anything else he could tell us about its journey from Dayton to his back-yard.

    Posted by Dave Newill on September 16,2009 | 07:25AM

    I was fortunate enough to get to the Yard several times in the late 70s and early 80s -- my last "tour" with Walter and my Dad was in 1984. My Dad was Chief of Maintenance at the YNG Air Base and donated at least two engines to Walter in the late 60s prior to retiring. When we were there in 1984, he remarked that there were two other engines there that he had donated to others (trade schools, etc.) and was surprised that they made their way to the Yard. Dad and Walter knew each other and did lots of reminiscing as we walked through the Yard. One story I remember is the T6 out in the front yard - it would be fired up once a year, appropriately on the 4th of July but they only ran it rarely due to the fuel consumption and cost. Whenever Dad was flying out that way, he’d circle the Yard to see if there were any new additions which would prompt a trip there shortly. Dad remarked that there was a sign out in the Yard that said the FAA will get you for flying so low. For the heck of it, I was in the Cleveland area with my daughter in March 2009 and we decided to see if I could find the place again - we did and I was surprised that the T6 was still out there. We decided that the weather wasn't good enough to knock on a door but the next time I go out that way (live in California), I'll bring the 1981 & 1984 pictures with me to jar Walter's memory of my Dad (deceased in 2005). Nonetheless, it's great he did this preservation effort – hats off to him!

    Posted by Dave on September 23,2009 | 01:00PM

    Wow can I make an appointment and bring my kids. I was just in newbury for christians united for Israel. I take my kids to museums all the time, they love airplanes. What a wonderful story. Ryan Morris Massillon OH

    Posted by ryan on October 9,2009 | 05:10PM

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