A Martinsburg Boy's Memories and Stories from the 1950s

John Bush was raised in Martinsburg and graduated from Central High in 1961. He spent most of his adult life in the Pacific Northwest. He has many memories as a boy in the 1950s that give some insight to the people and culture of Martinsburg in the 1950s. John likes to tell stories and over the years he has repeated the stories of his youth many times. His belief is that those years in Martinsburg influenced him all of his life. Some of the stories are historical in nature, some are colorful, and some are personal. He wishes that you enjoy them.

BICYCLE BOYS, A FORCED LANDING, AND THE DAY EISENHOWER LANDED AT OUR AIRPORT

Martinsburg was no different than many towns across America in that bicycles for kids became more common as the decade of the 1950s moved forward. You could zip down sidewalks, alleys, streets and, in places, across lawns to get anywhere in town in a few minutes.

As bicycle boys, we had the run of the town. If your parents allowed it, you could pedal to Woodbury and Fredericksburg to fish or just hang out. My mom told me to stay away from Henrietta, but if she went out somewhere I could manage to bicycle to Henrietta and back before she returned home. I even went to Curryville and Potter Creek to see my grandmothers.

Terry Dilling came with me once on his bike to Potter Creek. Buff, my dog, followed me everywhere. If she got tired, I carried her in my newspaper delivery sack. A few times we went to the airport just because it was different and you could get matchbooks with photos of pinup girls!

At that time, the Altoona-Blair County Airport was located at the end of Spring Street. It was small with a couple hangers, fuel pumps, a control tower, a cafe and small lounge. Two-propeller DC-3s, used by Allegheny Airlines, I believe, were the only large airplanes to use the airport on a regular basis.

There were two events at the airport in 1957 or ‘58 that I recall. They were unimportant events but big to me, a small-town bicycle boy.

The first event was a forced landing by a Navy two-engine airplane. When large planes came in to land at the airport, you could first see them circle over the Cove and it seemed like they were stalled in the sky as they banked toward the runway. We boys saw a plane circling for a landing. Someone yelled out “One of the engines is smoking and its propellers aren’t going around!” Without hesitation, we jumped on our bikes and headed across town to the airport.

We arrived just in time to see the plane bounce down the runway with tires smoking and letting out a loud squealing noise with each bounce. It taxied to the edge of the runway, almost out of vision from the airport. There were no sounds or sirens. A car drove down to the plane from the airport and was only there for a minute or two before returning. Figuring it was okay, we rode our bikes on the edge of the pavement. I had my dog Buff in my paper sack. Four or five men in naval uniforms were walking around the plane.

As we approached, one of men yelled, “Stay the #%$# away from the tires! They’re so hot they will burn your hands off!”

The cook leaned out an open window and asked the captain what he should do with the food. Not aware of our sensitive, teenage ears, one of the naval men told him, with several off-color adjectives and adverbs: “We’re going to town and you can place that navy food up you know where!”

The men then wandered over to our group and said there was a taxi on its way and we should not hang around after they left. They then asked where the late-night action was in Martinsburg. Now, we were small town boys but we had seen Frank Sinatra- and Dean Martin-type movies at our local theater about soldiers and knew they weren’t talking about late-night mass. I laughed as one of our boys said the Penn-Mar had two pinball machines and there was a pool hall with three tables that were generally open.

One man said, “Tell me Martinsburg isn’t dry.” I told them the VFW was within walking distance of downtown. When we saw the airport car coming out toward us, we dropped over the bank at the edge of the airfield and headed out of sight along a path to Spring Street. We had regularly used that path to sneak around the airport buildings in order to get to a couple of wood lots along the far end of the runway.

Another event occurred on Spring Street one warm summer day. Our family had moved there next to Floyd Bush’s pond which is still there today. Even though there were no cell phones, word spread amongst the bicycle boys and news could travel amazingly fast. The word went out that President Eisenhower was landing at the airport. A policeman blocked the street above my house at the junction to Memorial Park. A plane was circling over the town. One by one, boys from all over town arrived at my house, parked their bikes in the driveway and sat down in a line on the lawn along Spring Street. It wasn’t long until a state police car with two troopers came down the street with a black, four-door car behind it. The car slowed down to a near-stop, and the president rolled down his window and asked, “How are you boys doing today?”

We all stood in line and Jim Moose walked over and shook Ike’s hand, and then the car sped away.

Some of us scurried up to the airport just in time to see the plane take off down the runway.

Someone at the airport said weather had made them change landing plans. The telephone at my home rang a lot that night with numerous theories given to my mom as to why the president was forced to land in Martinsburg. The most common one was that there had been a foiled communist assassination attempt at the airport in Washington. For some reason, I never did tell my parents about my day that I will never forget. I had stood within a few feet of the President of the United States on my front lawn in Martinsburg, Pennsylvania.