Chapter 8

Steve

Wednesday morning, I was up, dressed, and out at the airfield by six. I was sitting in the charter office, monitoring the radio, when I heard Wes' voice on the radio, requesting permission to land. Operations gave him permission along with wind conditions.

I stepped out of the office to go watch the small twin come in. The plane did a smooth approach and a smoother landing. The plane turned onto the taxiway and came back toward the hangars. One of the night maintenance guys had seen me watching the incoming aircraft and came out to join me. "Waiting for someone, Mr. Sharp?"

"Yep, George, this might be my new engineer for the light sport I'm trying to build. If you would, take care of the tiedown for me or push it in one of the hangars while he's here."

George said, "Both of the G5s are out so I'll just push it in with the Lears. Should I fuel it?"

"Let the man tell you what he wants to do. It's his airplane."

George nodded and walked out to use his wands to direct the approaching airplane to where he wanted the plane to park. Wes followed George's directions and had the Aztec spun around in front of an open hangar.

An average height guy stepped out of the cockpit onto the wing. The first thing you noticed was the alligator cowboy boots. The man pulled a briefcase and a sport coat from the plane, then stepped down to the ground. He put his briefcase down and slid the coat on, then with briefcase in hand, he walked up to me.

I stuck out my hand and said, "Steve Sharp."

The man took my hand, "Wes Miller."

"Glad to meet you, Wes. Come on, unless you need to use the facilities, let's go get some coffee and breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan, Steve, I'm ready."

Back at the patio, I introduced everyone to Wes then settled down with him at one of the little tables. He produced a resume and a bunch of papers. While I read what he had brought, Tiny had begun chatting with him to find out where Wes came from and what he wanted to do in life.

Wes had a master's degree in aeronautical and aerospace engineering. His working background had been almost exclusively aerodynamics of weapons systems, mostly rockets fired from naval vessels, fighters, bombers, and rotary wing aircraft. He had been working at Scientific Atlantic for ten years, his first job out of college.

Ruth handed me her dossier on Wes, and I looked through it to quickly note there were good blank spaces for police records, but also a blank space for spouse.

Included in his personal papers were recommendations from all of his supervisors from Scientific Atlantic. All of these would be easy to confirm. I gave them to Ruth who knew exactly what I wanted.

"So tell me, Wes, what do you know about light sport aircraft?"

"I helped build a couple of experimental aircraft but they were more like kites than airplanes. I recently helped complete a light sport amphibian kit that has been certified. Before we began, I researched all of the rules and regulations for this type of aircraft. With my background in aerodynamics and hands on experience building light sports, I think I would be a good choice for your company."

He was eager. "Eat some breakfast, then I'll give you a look at what we're doing and what our goals are."

Mark was feeling good this morning and was being attended to by everyone. Martin had taken him over to his trailer to get his medications and to bring his cart back. It looked like Mark was going to be able to function by himself. With his neighbor ladies, I would doubt if he would be by himself all that much. Mercy was saying she would take him to the doctor's office next door to be looked at before any decision about where he would be staying would be made.

About eight, I took Wes in my truck over to the R&D center. I took him to the environmental rooms and showed him the engines being tested. There were cart engines and our future certified aircraft engine in each room. One of the rooms was blowing hot sand, one was full of dust, and then the killer room was full of ocean salt spray. All three rooms were more extreme than anyone would ever be using the equipment in; but then, what better way to know whether the equipment would hold up. The array of monitors in front of each window was impressive.

Wes said, "Your aircraft engine sort of resembles a Continental and Rotax. Do you have a turbo engine?"

"Not yet," I answered, "this engine is putting out around a hundred and twenty-five horses. A turbo would be too hot for a light sport, so we'll stay with this one for right now. We will continue to develop a turbo for larger aircraft; but we need to walk before we run."

Wes nodded in agreement.

Next we drove to S&S' main offices. It's always impressive to walk into our showroom to see a stock car hung from the ceiling, along with a couple of motorcycles and a golf cart. The array of equipment we now make is pretty impressive.

I showed Wes around the main shop, including the motor room. That is always one of the more impressive places. So clean, everything in place, while a team worked on perfecting another engine.

As we walked through the sheet metal and frame area, Wes commented, "You obviously do a lot of work for the racing crowd. I guess I should have researched your company before coming. I'm impressed."

As we entered the compressor and generator rebuild area, you have to be impressed with the beautiful white walls and floors that surround the individual work areas that have nasty old equipment being rejuvenated. As we walked out the door Wes pointed at the sign, "Is it Perfect."

"Your mottos around here are really motivating. Your shops all look brand new, but I can tell they aren't. You keep them amazingly clean, but that has to be a great atmosphere to do the perfect work you talk about."

As we walked over to the neighboring huge building, I answered, "That is the reason we are still in business and have not laid off one person during this recession. We have encouraged some folks to retire, but not one layoff."

We walked over to the storage area next to the fiberglass shop. On the outside wall were all of the cars that folks were putting together, their personal projects in various stages of restoration and creation. In the back were newly rebuilt lifts of various sizes, and on the left side was the fuselage and wings of the aircraft we wanted to build.

"Pick up one of the wings. That will give you an idea of how light this aircraft will be. We should be lighter than the Gobosh 700 or 800. Our engine is a little hot, so we need to make a smaller version similar to the Continental 0-200D or the Rotax 912."

Wes did pick up a wing and was surprised. "How did you make it so light? Carbon fiber is usually heavier than this."

"The material is some of our own design. The military is looking at our material for possible use with rotor aircraft. Lately we've been experimenting with it on race cars. The material is extremely solid and once cured, almost indestructible. We are working on getting the cost of production down so we can use this same technology on our carts. If we can keep the cost down, we think we might be able to sell it to the automotive industry."

Wes was looking at the aircraft pieces, "So what do you need me for?"

I smiled and said, "We need you to design an airplane for us, using our materials. We want it to be a really tough aircraft, able to withstand the rigors of a flight school, and be inexpensive enough for someone to be able to own it."

"The aircraft has to be absolutely perfect as far as being dependable, easy to fly and maintain, and then the kicker, I want a plain-Jane bare model to come in around fifty thousand, tops."

"Wow, Steve, that's a tall order. Do you really think you can do that?"

"I said I want to get it there. We'll save a little on a smaller motor, but I want the aircraft to be easy to fly, very forgiving. I want it to be a great airplane for the common man."

Wes asked, "What about this body that you've already cast?"

"This is all guess work. We copied some plans right off of the internet except we made everything stronger beneath the surface. We used some special light alloy for the composite body and wings, and also for the engine area. Like I said, this is copied off the internet and I have no idea how it will fly. I want our own design, our own aircraft. We'll build this one, and if we can get it certified, probably use it as a trainer or sell it."

"You're serious about this, huh?" Wes asked, still looking at the aircraft pieces.

I smiled, "Very serious. I think we can sell about fifty of these things a year if we can build them at a good price. People will end up spending more than fifty grand because they will want all the options. We'll build a great, safe, bare bones, aircraft cheap, and make some money on the toys."

Wes turned and looked me in the eyes, "Hire me, I'm your guy. I will design a couple of different types of airplanes and you can build the ones you want. I know what it takes to make them airworthy. With your materials, I can help you build one hell of an airplane."

I nodded, "Let's go back to the patio and talk about this a little more."

We drove back home and went in to have some coffee. I had Wes sit for a second while I went inside to Sue's office and called Ruth. "Did you find any reason I shouldn't hire this guy?"

Ruth gave me the scoop, "He's clean, Steve. He's a real loner though. Wasn't a joiner in college, and he didn't do much but study. His grade point was off the scale and that's why Scientific Atlantic jumped on him. He has his name on several patents, but they all belong to his former company. The executives that remain over there all say Wes is an unusually good man and think they should have retained him. From the information I have, hire him."

"I'm going to do that. I'll let you know."

Back out on the patio, Glenda had brought out a couple of fresh baked sweet rolls. Wes was enjoying the warm roll and fresh coffee when I sat with him.

"Now the hard part, Wes. I want you to work with us but I have no idea what you're worth. What do you need to move here and to keep you and your family happy?"

Wes smiled, "No family yet, it's just me. My only fault is my expensive airplane habit. I should dump the twin and get an efficient single but I own that thing free and clear and don't want to go into debt. If you can pay me about seventy-five percent of what I was making over on the coast, we have a deal. I can move over here on my own and be ready to work by day after tomorrow if necessary. I might need some help finding a place to live though."

"Tell you what, Wes, take a pay stub or your W-2 and give it to Ruth. She'll set you up with that, plus ten percent, and we'll work it out from there. You will be busier here than you were over there. You'll have to manage some people too, possibly an entire manufacturing facility. We've just built two more hangars over at the airfield with an office similar to what the air charter has. You'll be in that office area and you'll build your aircraft in one of the hangars. You'll work with Abe on the engine, Jeff on the body, and Jimmy on the mechanics and instrumentation. We have the knowledge, you'll be our leadership."

Wes was sitting there with his mouth open like a fish sucking air. "Are you serious?"