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377 22
QuoteWho would have thought? SOF ads, people got dead.
Yeah, I remember that stuff. Murder for hire in SOF, for real. I thought they were all couch potato cammo types who read and advertised in that mag, but I guessed wrong. You could get people killed and pretty cheap too. They really screwed up the market for professional hits.
I was going to compliment G on one of his recent posts but I am still locked out of his PM box. Oh well.
Orange, you can ignore Snowmman's moratorium on hiring. There is a seat belt on his C 123K with your name embroidered on it.
The idea of convicts being furloughed from MO state prisons for Ranger training and then jumping in top secret special HALO ops is very imaginative and entirely absurd. The Rangers are very active on the Internet. They delight in personally confronting and "educating" (beating up?) people making fake Ranger claims. They can't hurt Duane now though. Duane never claimed any link to the Rangers, Jo did it on his behalf posthumously. They wouldn't beat Jo up, so no worries there.
"Worlds Biggest Jock Carrier" as a CB handle? I listened to CB a lot back in the day. I NEVER heard a handle that long or that obscure. They were always short.
Ones I recall:
Coathanger
Wolfman
Sneaky Pete
Shark Bait
Cyclops
Ghost Rider
My next door neighbor in the early 60s was Bazooka. We could hear him on our TV set when he fired up his linear amp to work skip.
"this here Bazooooooka has you right in the cross hairs Mr Moonshine, come on back to the Big Bazooka out here in Caly For Nai Aaay, 10-4? Mr Moooooonshine, you gotta copy on the this here Big Bad Bazooka?"
Bazooka was a diabetic morbidly obese unemployed gentleman and CB was his world. In real life he was kind of a sad case but on CB he was a major dude. I liked him.
377
2018 marks half a century as a skydiver. Trained by the late Perry Stevens D-51 in 1968.
snowmman 3
I knew a guy named Duane Weber when I was a kid. He was fearless. The first time I rode passenger in a car going 120mph was with Duane at the wheel. Duane always gave us kids free smokes and matches. "Just don't say where you got them, kid" he'd say.
Told us a story once where he fought his way out of a bar, and didn't even get a scratch. When we asked about everyone else, he just smiled.
Said he went back to the bar the next night and sung Sinatra tunes. No one said a word.
Said guys could point out any woman in the bar, and she'd be on his arm within an hour.
Told us he'd been in every prison west of the Mississippi at least twice, busted out of every prison east of the Mississippi at least once. Been in the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines, and spent a night in the brig in all of them.
He said he could build an airplane from a busted up jeep, skin a bear with a pointed stick, and walk 50 miles in the woods just smelling where he was going.
He knew everyone and everything. Duane could walk in a bank and the tellers would give him money just because they knew he deserved it more than anyone else. But he never needed any money. He'd give us dollar bills, laughing "there's plenty more were that came from".
He told us he'd run for Governer and win, but then they'd have to put him in jail, and you can't have a Governer in jail. So he wouldn't run no matter what people said.
Duane: he was the greatest.
Told us a story once where he fought his way out of a bar, and didn't even get a scratch. When we asked about everyone else, he just smiled.
Said he went back to the bar the next night and sung Sinatra tunes. No one said a word.
Said guys could point out any woman in the bar, and she'd be on his arm within an hour.
Told us he'd been in every prison west of the Mississippi at least twice, busted out of every prison east of the Mississippi at least once. Been in the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines, and spent a night in the brig in all of them.
He said he could build an airplane from a busted up jeep, skin a bear with a pointed stick, and walk 50 miles in the woods just smelling where he was going.
He knew everyone and everything. Duane could walk in a bank and the tellers would give him money just because they knew he deserved it more than anyone else. But he never needed any money. He'd give us dollar bills, laughing "there's plenty more were that came from".
He told us he'd run for Governer and win, but then they'd have to put him in jail, and you can't have a Governer in jail. So he wouldn't run no matter what people said.
Duane: he was the greatest.
georger 244
The idea of convicts being furloughed from MO state prisons for Ranger training and then jumping in top secret special HALO ops is very imaginative and entirely absurd. The Rangers are very active on the Internet. They delight in personally confronting and "educating" (beating up?) people making fake Ranger claims. They can't hurt Duane now though. Duane never claimed any link to the Rangers, Jo did it on his behalf posthumously.
Well you dont have to go every far to find a Ranger these days. I would suppose there are several here at Dropzone, somewhere. They might have thoughts on Jo's remarks. Another distinction Im trying to
reconcile is you have 'furloughs' say from education
or training and such, but are there 'furloughs' from
prison? I really dont know but Jo seems to think so.
I know some Rangers. I have turned Jo's remarks over to them and I think they will get to the bottom of this, for Jo. I always try to be a helping hand when I can.
I must remark however, there is one thing even Rangers are affraid of and will backdown to: a skunk.
Have you ever seen a Ranger treed by a skunk? I have. It isnt a pretty sight. Skunks can also be used to getconfessions out of people wthout laying a hand on. A skunk is very convincing. Skunks have a way with people, even the most obstreperous of our
species. I have seen skunks do what preachers and
ex-wives or a platoon of soldiers could not accomplish. Its all in the application once the person
is aware a skunk is around. A person would sooner
rather be shot than face theconseuences of a visit with a skunk. So, when confronted by a skunk take
special precautions and use only an approved Board Certified Skunk Remover, after sizing up the wind direction and the jaunt of the tail.
Did Cooper run into a skunk?
Did Duane ever mention a skunk?
Has Jo ever met up with a skunk?
And why arent you people pursuing the Calame/
McCoy tie connection? There might be a scent trail
there. Calame thought so. Maybe its the thought
that everything is related to Duane, inevitably, and
we've all been skunked. But Rangers do not like
to be treed by skunks! Lets see if the Rangers can
come up with a solution which we can then release
as 'hot air'.
Happy Hanukkah to all -
Hey Jo,
it's been awhile back, wasn't you or sombody on here trying to find a smokejumper with the name like Cooley or sounded like that? Is this him
Earl Cooley, who died on November 10 aged 98, was the first of America's "smokejumpers" – forest firefighters who parachute into inaccessible areas to tackle blazes before they rage out of control; 70 years after his pioneering mission, smokejumpers are now regarded as firefighting's elite, and the practice is credited with saving tens of thousands of acres and millions of dollars each year.
Candidates for smokejumping are today required to pass rigorous physical examinations and undergo years of training. But when, on July 12 1940, Earl Cooley stood ready to jump from a small TriMotor aeroplane as it buzzed at 1,500ft over Martin Creek in the Nez Perce National Forest, Idaho, procedures were altogether more improvised. "Our training consisted of a man saying: 'This is your parachute. You know what fire is. We jump tomorrow'," he recalled later.
Such rudimentary preparation seemed to invite disaster – and it duly arrived, as the lines of Cooley's parachute got tangled and it failed to open properly. His fall was, however, cushioned by the upper branches of a spruce tree and he – and the art of smokejumping – survived. Dusting himself down, he and his partner, Rufus Robinson, located the equipment and provisions that had been dropped in their wake, and made their way to the fire. Over the next 12 hours they successfully put it out.
Dousing the flames solely with water was not feasible for the lightly-loaded smokejumpers, but several other tactics were at their disposal. These included chopping down trees to create firebreaks, digging trenches, and starting controlled fires to deprive the wildfire of fuel. In this way conflagrations could be corralled before they exploded into blazes that stretched over hundreds of acres.
All such techniques were second nature to Cooley, who had spent almost his entire existence out of doors. Indeed, to him and his fellow firefighters, the challenges and dangers of quelling flames, once safely on terra firma, were completely normal. It was the parachuting that was new, though Cooley came to relish the thrill (after the breathtaking jerk of the 'chute opening) of floating gently towards the smoke.
In a dangerous job, adding an extra element of risk carried with it a certain perverse kudos, and he enjoyed recounting the assessment of one forester: "The best information I can get from fliers is that all parachute jumpers are more or less crazy – just a little bit unbalanced, otherwise they wouldn't be engaged in such a hazardous undertaking."
He was born Earl Everett Cooley on September 25 1911 to parents who led a simple life on the land at Hardin, Montana. One of 11 children, he went to school until he was 12 before being summoned away to help with family farming and hunting duties. He had a particular love of stalking elk and deer and returned to Corvallis High School only in time to graduate aged 19.
His outdoor upbringing made him a natural candidate for the US Forest Service, which he joined in 1937, graduating from the forestry school at the University of Montana four years later. By then he had made his pioneering jump, and smokejumping was becoming an accepted technique to tackle fires which broke out far from roads or trails.
Depending on the skills of the pilot and the weather conditions, the smokejumpers would jump from between 1,200 and 2,000ft, aiming to get a good "read" of the fire as they circled overhead.
Those next to Cooley in the plane were often men he had trained himself, and included Quakers and, during the war, conscientious objectors who sought non-combat service. Cooley himself was regarded as an expert at locating safe "dropzones" from which the jumpers could hike to the fire.
Sprained ankles and the odd broken bone were standard fare. But Cooley was proud that in the early years, despite its apparent dangers, smokejumping had not claimed a single life.
That all changed on August 4 1949, when a lightning storm passed over the Helena National Forest, Montana. In view of the dry weather, the Forest Service had rated the fire threat as "explosive". The following day three small fires were spotted at noon and it was decided that a team would be sent in.
Cooley was not to be one of the jumpers, but it was his job to choose a safe landing spot. Despite heavy turbulence, the team made it to a place he had identified known as Mann Gulch – a cleft in the land which shielded them from the fire – by 4pm. Their two-way radio, however, had been destroyed after its 'chute failed to open.
A few minutes later, and against all Cooley's expectations, the wind changed direction and the fire leapt across the gully – trapping the men. The 16-strong team retreated as fast as it could, dropping gear and fleeing, but the pace of the 50ft flames, which covered 3,000 acres in 10 minutes, outstripped the men.
The crew's foreman, R Wagner "Wag" Dodge, knew then that running was useless, and told his team to stop. He lit a new fire, as a break, in front of him.
Two others, Walter Rumsey and Robert Sallee, found a nook in which to shelter. The others continued to run from the flames, then just 100 yards away. Dodge, Rumsey and Sallee were the only survivors.
The event profoundly marked the Forest Service – and Cooley, who was initially plagued by fears that he had made an error in choosing the drop zone. But an inquiry cleared him. "I am sure I did the right thing that day, but I still look at that map and have thought about it every day since then," he said 45 years after the event.
Mann Gulch remains the most lethal disaster to have struck smokejumpers on active service. In a later simulation, the Forest Service was unable to reproduce the unique conditions which allowed the flames to cross the gully and kill the jumpers.
Cooley's own career as a smokejumper lasted 22 years, during which he was a district ranger in the Nez Perce National Forest. He was named smokejumper base superintendent in Missoula, Montana, in 1958. There he recruited, trained, and dispatched some 150 smokejumpers wherever they were needed.
"He was always friendly and helpful and put up with a lot," noted Tom Kovalicky, who was a jumper at the time. "Smokejumpers had a playful streak and liked a drink, which kept Earl on his toes." Cooley became an equipment specialist in 1971 before leaving the service in 1975.
In retirement Cooley, an easy-going but hands-on manager who commanded respect from his fellows, founded the National Smokejumper Association and was its first president. "Like a lot of us he loved the excitement and the difficulty of becoming a smokejumper," said the current president John Twiss. Today, such demands mean there are still only a few hundred active smokejumpers. Last year they made 1,432 jumps for the Forest Service. "They're viewed within the community as unique – the special forces of firefighting," said Twiss.
Earl Cooley is survived by Irene, his wife of 68 years, and five daughters.
After the Mann Gulch fire he made crosses for the dead men and installed one where each had died. He continued to make the steep climb to maintain them until a few years before his death.
it's been awhile back, wasn't you or sombody on here trying to find a smokejumper with the name like Cooley or sounded like that? Is this him
Earl Cooley, who died on November 10 aged 98, was the first of America's "smokejumpers" – forest firefighters who parachute into inaccessible areas to tackle blazes before they rage out of control; 70 years after his pioneering mission, smokejumpers are now regarded as firefighting's elite, and the practice is credited with saving tens of thousands of acres and millions of dollars each year.
Candidates for smokejumping are today required to pass rigorous physical examinations and undergo years of training. But when, on July 12 1940, Earl Cooley stood ready to jump from a small TriMotor aeroplane as it buzzed at 1,500ft over Martin Creek in the Nez Perce National Forest, Idaho, procedures were altogether more improvised. "Our training consisted of a man saying: 'This is your parachute. You know what fire is. We jump tomorrow'," he recalled later.
Such rudimentary preparation seemed to invite disaster – and it duly arrived, as the lines of Cooley's parachute got tangled and it failed to open properly. His fall was, however, cushioned by the upper branches of a spruce tree and he – and the art of smokejumping – survived. Dusting himself down, he and his partner, Rufus Robinson, located the equipment and provisions that had been dropped in their wake, and made their way to the fire. Over the next 12 hours they successfully put it out.
Dousing the flames solely with water was not feasible for the lightly-loaded smokejumpers, but several other tactics were at their disposal. These included chopping down trees to create firebreaks, digging trenches, and starting controlled fires to deprive the wildfire of fuel. In this way conflagrations could be corralled before they exploded into blazes that stretched over hundreds of acres.
All such techniques were second nature to Cooley, who had spent almost his entire existence out of doors. Indeed, to him and his fellow firefighters, the challenges and dangers of quelling flames, once safely on terra firma, were completely normal. It was the parachuting that was new, though Cooley came to relish the thrill (after the breathtaking jerk of the 'chute opening) of floating gently towards the smoke.
In a dangerous job, adding an extra element of risk carried with it a certain perverse kudos, and he enjoyed recounting the assessment of one forester: "The best information I can get from fliers is that all parachute jumpers are more or less crazy – just a little bit unbalanced, otherwise they wouldn't be engaged in such a hazardous undertaking."
He was born Earl Everett Cooley on September 25 1911 to parents who led a simple life on the land at Hardin, Montana. One of 11 children, he went to school until he was 12 before being summoned away to help with family farming and hunting duties. He had a particular love of stalking elk and deer and returned to Corvallis High School only in time to graduate aged 19.
His outdoor upbringing made him a natural candidate for the US Forest Service, which he joined in 1937, graduating from the forestry school at the University of Montana four years later. By then he had made his pioneering jump, and smokejumping was becoming an accepted technique to tackle fires which broke out far from roads or trails.
Depending on the skills of the pilot and the weather conditions, the smokejumpers would jump from between 1,200 and 2,000ft, aiming to get a good "read" of the fire as they circled overhead.
Those next to Cooley in the plane were often men he had trained himself, and included Quakers and, during the war, conscientious objectors who sought non-combat service. Cooley himself was regarded as an expert at locating safe "dropzones" from which the jumpers could hike to the fire.
Sprained ankles and the odd broken bone were standard fare. But Cooley was proud that in the early years, despite its apparent dangers, smokejumping had not claimed a single life.
That all changed on August 4 1949, when a lightning storm passed over the Helena National Forest, Montana. In view of the dry weather, the Forest Service had rated the fire threat as "explosive". The following day three small fires were spotted at noon and it was decided that a team would be sent in.
Cooley was not to be one of the jumpers, but it was his job to choose a safe landing spot. Despite heavy turbulence, the team made it to a place he had identified known as Mann Gulch – a cleft in the land which shielded them from the fire – by 4pm. Their two-way radio, however, had been destroyed after its 'chute failed to open.
A few minutes later, and against all Cooley's expectations, the wind changed direction and the fire leapt across the gully – trapping the men. The 16-strong team retreated as fast as it could, dropping gear and fleeing, but the pace of the 50ft flames, which covered 3,000 acres in 10 minutes, outstripped the men.
The crew's foreman, R Wagner "Wag" Dodge, knew then that running was useless, and told his team to stop. He lit a new fire, as a break, in front of him.
Two others, Walter Rumsey and Robert Sallee, found a nook in which to shelter. The others continued to run from the flames, then just 100 yards away. Dodge, Rumsey and Sallee were the only survivors.
The event profoundly marked the Forest Service – and Cooley, who was initially plagued by fears that he had made an error in choosing the drop zone. But an inquiry cleared him. "I am sure I did the right thing that day, but I still look at that map and have thought about it every day since then," he said 45 years after the event.
Mann Gulch remains the most lethal disaster to have struck smokejumpers on active service. In a later simulation, the Forest Service was unable to reproduce the unique conditions which allowed the flames to cross the gully and kill the jumpers.
Cooley's own career as a smokejumper lasted 22 years, during which he was a district ranger in the Nez Perce National Forest. He was named smokejumper base superintendent in Missoula, Montana, in 1958. There he recruited, trained, and dispatched some 150 smokejumpers wherever they were needed.
"He was always friendly and helpful and put up with a lot," noted Tom Kovalicky, who was a jumper at the time. "Smokejumpers had a playful streak and liked a drink, which kept Earl on his toes." Cooley became an equipment specialist in 1971 before leaving the service in 1975.
In retirement Cooley, an easy-going but hands-on manager who commanded respect from his fellows, founded the National Smokejumper Association and was its first president. "Like a lot of us he loved the excitement and the difficulty of becoming a smokejumper," said the current president John Twiss. Today, such demands mean there are still only a few hundred active smokejumpers. Last year they made 1,432 jumps for the Forest Service. "They're viewed within the community as unique – the special forces of firefighting," said Twiss.
Earl Cooley is survived by Irene, his wife of 68 years, and five daughters.
After the Mann Gulch fire he made crosses for the dead men and installed one where each had died. He continued to make the steep climb to maintain them until a few years before his death.
377 22
QuoteDuane: he was the greatest.
Without a doubt he was, at least in the eyes of the woman who loved him.
The reality was just too hard to take: a petty con man who wasn't even good enough at his wicked craft to elude arrest or conviction for any length of time. In death he became exalted. This required elaborate constructs.
The incompetent petty crook wasn't really jailed for bad acts. Au contrare. He was one of the super elite Ultra Rangers, a group so dangerous that he and his cohorts had to be kenneled in the toughest prisons.
They passed time incarcerated, awaiting the call of duty which would result in an instant "furlough", whether it be to a Legionnaires convention to protect the President, to Viet Nam for some extreme HALO ops or to Cape Canaveral where they flew moon missions for the photogenic Astronauts who stayed in secret bunkers until their stunt double Ultra Rangers returned. Duane knew all the radio comms released to the public by NASA were pre recorded by the fake Astronauts who were in the bunkers, so he felt free to say whatever he wanted to when conversing with mission contol at Houston. Several amateur radio operators using parabolic dishes aimed at the moon heard the real comms: "One small step for man, one giant step for the world's biggest jock carrier."
Duane was really a military Mother Theresa of sorts, dedicating his life to selfless acts of combat charity to protect the meek and helpless. Although Ultra Rangers performed many acts of heroism, no medals were ever awarded nor can any records be found of their elite service exploits.
They did their very best to prevent the killings of JFK, RFK and MLK, but the murderous "powers that be" had their wicked way. These failed protection missions soured some of the Ultra rangers and they refused to report back to prison after being recalled. These Rogue Rangers turned to crime and there was no stopping them. Even when caught, they were released as they knew too much and the disclosure of their secrets could topple the government overnight.
So tip your hat to Duane Weber, a modern day Superman. He served his country with honor and distinction knowing that the official records would show him only as a common criminal. The FBI is just doing their job in covering up the truth.
377
2018 marks half a century as a skydiver. Trained by the late Perry Stevens D-51 in 1968.
SKYWHUFFO,
You would probably be amazed to know how much Jo knows about the early Smokejumpers and their pilots.
I’ll bet if pressed, Jo could post 5 facts (verifiable) that most people don’t know about the very early days of those brave jumpers and their tall timber pilots?
Give ‘um some facts, JO!
Web Page
Blog
NORJAK Forum
You would probably be amazed to know how much Jo knows about the early Smokejumpers and their pilots.
I’ll bet if pressed, Jo could post 5 facts (verifiable) that most people don’t know about the very early days of those brave jumpers and their tall timber pilots?
Give ‘um some facts, JO!
Web Page
Blog
NORJAK Forum
snowmman 3
See...Duane will never let us down. Alive or Dead.
The legend of Duane Weber..it's better than the Cooper legend.
As long as there is a open web forum somewhere, the stories of Duane Weber will be told and retold. Serving as both inspiration and warning.
We need more Duane Webers.
The legend of Duane Weber..it's better than the Cooper legend.
As long as there is a open web forum somewhere, the stories of Duane Weber will be told and retold. Serving as both inspiration and warning.
We need more Duane Webers.
Remember how they used to advertise guys who said they would go anywhere, do anything? Always sounded like bullshit?
Well there were a couple court cases where guys got nabbed, who actually did just that. Wives would call up, husbands would call up, etc. People got murdered.
one case where they put a malfunctioning bomb on a plane. The feds really got involved on that one.
Who would have thought? SOF ads, people got dead.
Snowmman Industries is no longer hiring pilots or jumpers. I mean we're no longer advertising that. I mean there is nothing going on. No investigation needed. Move along.
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