Page 16 - January 2019

Flight of Discovery Our visits morphed into a new flight of discovery for me,
By Anne Gafiuk
©December 2018 for Prairie Planes
“If I can walk, I can fly.”
Gordon said this to me when I visited him a month
before he passed away, as he sat in his easy chair,
swollen legs elevated, a warm blanket covering
him, still looking like a king, a member of aviation
royalty granting me an audience. Sadly, I could see
his flying days were behind him.
When I arrived, I came bearing lasagna, a fruit
crisp, and a kiss on his forehead.
“No pie?” he asked.
“No, no pie.”
His mouth displayed a disappointed grin. He raised plane for a photo op.
his eyebrows up quickly then let them drop.
-----------------------
The first day I met Gordon face to face, I brought
him a lemon meringue pie. Over the previous two
years and dozens and dozens of interviews, driving
from Calgary to High River and back, I discovered
how his mother made him pies when he would
come home to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan on leave
as a student pilot and then from his instructor
duties with the RCAF during the Second World
War.
Gordon would call me up as the months
progressed and say, “Anne, I’ve got another story
to tell you.” And down I would go, laden with
cookies, cheesecake, or brownies and cinnamon
buns, or a lemon loaf.... but his preferred dessert
was pie.
One of the last times I visited with Gordon was just
after he had been moved to the Okotoks Hospice. I And it was on that Saturday afternoon in August 2011, I
brought a berry pie. “I’m not all that hungry,” he
said. Later, I was told he had a few bites in the
afternoon, telling the nurses happily, “It’s
saskatoon! It’s saskatoon!”
Baking for Gordon and collecting his stories
became a comfortable routine. I was on the hunt
for background information to help me write a
fictional story about a boy from a small town in
southern Alberta who became a pilot. The
backdrop: World War II.
meeting other Second World War veterans who openly
shared their stories with me, and in turn, with the world.
I first saw Gordon Jones – actually his airplane -- in July
2011 at the Claresholm, Alberta airport. (At the time, I
didn’t know Claresholm had an airport. I had no idea
there were so many airports across the country because
of the Canadian war effort and the British
Commonwealth Air Training Plan (BCATP).) Parked were
the five yellow airplanes, all part of the Vintage Wings
Yellow Wings Tour, which had flown over the Bomber
Command Museum in Nanton a few hours earlier.
As my children and I milled around the old aircraft, one
pilot from Vintage Wings asked my daughter, “Would
your mother like to sit in my airplane?” What a thrill!
My children also had the opportunity to climb into the
My aunt and my mther, in the meantime, were
reminiscing about the old airplanes; they grew up in the
1940s east of Carstairs, Alberta. The planes used to
come in flying over their farm, the distinct engines heard
before they were seen.
We posed in front of a few more airplanes, then saw the
pilots and planes readying for departure.
One particular airplane caught my eye. I watched as an
old man in overalls climb into the cockpit, then fly away.
I contacted Nanton a few days later and asked about the
elderly pilot. Matter-of-factly I was told, “Gordon
Jones,” like I should know. Would he talk to me about
his experiences for a story? “Absolutely!”
I cold-called Mr. Jones on a Wednesday, talked with him
for an hour, and by Saturday, I was in his living room,
interviewing him and his wife, Linora, about their
wartime experiences.
had the privilege of flying with an 88 year old pilot, a
former BCATP Pilot Officer from the Second World War
in Tiger Moth 1214, the same one he flew as an nineteen
year old instructor out of #5 Elementary Flying Training
School (EFTS) in High River!
It was the beginning of a relationship for us and journey
for me, learning about a chapter in Canadian history I
knew nothing about.