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Tuesday, April 2, 2013

WAL Capt. Calvin A. Bugbee

.....below is a wonderful tribute from a son to his father....in my mind immortality simply means being remembered...Captain Bugbee will long be remembered by friends and family...his life's legacy inspires us all to be better and to do better .....to handle what comes our way with dignity, wisdom, and grace...thank you to Captain Bugbee's son Captain Guy 'Cubby' Bugbee for writing....inspired by his father, Guy flys for Alaska Airlines and we thank you Guy, for sharing your dad with us!
~ Carol

========================================= 

Dad,
You are my Mentor, My Hero and My Friend
I Love You!
Cubby
___________________________________
I can only equate it to a candle. A candle for which there was virtually nothing left. The wax of this once beautiful and amazing candle was all but gone, the small and fragile wick, just barely hanging on to the small flickering flame, a flame growing dimmer with each passing moment.
I was holding his hand tightly, as mom was stroking his hair and caressing his face. And in my other hand I held Callae’s hand so tight. We sat and waited, completely powerless, helpless, dreading the inevitable. The Hospice Chaplin said a prayer while we waited, the flame was flickering evermore dimmer.
Yet to compare this giant of a man, this bigger than life character to a candle is a gross
injustice. He was more like a bonfire, with a flame as bright as bright can be, that lit the way for everyone around him, creating warmth for all that came in contact with him. He was a clear beacon in the night pulling everyone in. He was a rock for those that depended on him, he was the Good Samaritan for all that needed him. He was strong and compassionate, he was stern and loving. He was intelligent without being condescending, he had common sense that was beyond uncommon. He knew everything about everything and he knew when to teach you and when to let you learn on your own. He was the dad that every boy wished for, but only I was lucky enough to have.
Growing up in the small town of Wahpeton North Dakota, it must have been quite a shock
when he joined the Army Air Corp in 1943, to do his part in the war effort; flying C-46’s on the other side of the world, in the China – Burma Theater.
The “Hump” as it was known, a nickname given by the Allied Pilots, was a supply chain route to ferry supplies from India across the Eastern Himalayan Mountains to China. Due to the extreme altitude, uncharted and rugged mountains peaks and the unpredictable and extreme weather, this was likely the most treacherous and dangerous transport flying in all of World War II. The experience and knowledge that he will gain here, will serve him well later in life when he becomes a civilian pilot for Western Airlines.
Upon returning from the war, he met a beautiful young woman that worked in his father’s Drug Store in Morris Minnesota. The stories differ slightly, depending on who you ask. According to Mom, she played hard to get, forcing dad to pursue and court her until he finally won her heart. According to Dad, the returning war hero, she was taken with him the moment they first met. But truth be told… I think they both chased each other around the basement of my grandfather’s Drug Store.
An Aeronautical Engineer by training, after the war, he joined Lockheed Corporation,
designing parts for the Lockheed Constellation, but flying was in his blood. He left Lockheed in 1949 to take a position with Western Airlines as a DC-3 First Officer or Co-Pilot, as it was more commonly known back then. The DC-3 was a similar aircraft to the C-46 that he had flown in the “Hump” and he settled in quickly. Almost a year later, he upgraded to Captain on the DC-3 and an amazing career was well under way.
At approximately the same time he married his sweetheart, Beverly Hubbard on August 25th, 1950 and they settled in Denver where Cal was currently based with Western Airlines. They were soon blessed with a daughter, Callae and I was born four years later.
Throughout his remarkable career he had the opportunity to fly the Douglas DC-3, the
Convair 240, the Douglas DC-6, the Lockheed L-188 Electra, the Boeing 707 and 720 and
finally, his favorite airplane, the McDonnell Douglas DC-10. He retired in October of 1981 with a career spanning thirty two years. Thirty two years that were clearly the “Golden Age of Aviation”.
Although his job took him away from home, on his days off we spent a lot of time together.  Whether we were working in the shop, traveling to a fly-in in one of his airplanes, or just sitting at the end of the day talking, we were very close. Some of my best memories also came from when he was working. I used to travel with him on some of his trips and we would spend his
layovers together in some exciting place away from home. Mexico, Hawaii, London… or
where ever it was, it really didn’t matter, we always had fun.
I have always been proud of my dad, but as I grew older, I began to recognize the traits that made him such an amazing man. I began to see the respect and admiration he received from his fellow pilots and co-workers, his friends and family, and anyone who came in contact with him and I couldn’t be prouder.
When I was about seven years old I was traveling with dad on one of his trips. Long before the FAA prohibited such things, I spent part of the flight in the cockpit. When I finally returned to my seat in the main cabin, I was seated next to a man I didn’t know. He looked at me somewhat quizzically, having seen me come out of the cockpit, but before he could say anything, with a smile that was beaming from ear to ear I said, “That’s my dad flying the plane”.
Many years later I was flying for a small airline in Alaska. We were coming from Kenai,
headed north to Anchorage. We had just crossed over Point Possession headed to Fire
Island. Anchorage Approach Control advised us that we were following traffic from the north.
As we got closer to Fire Island, Anchorage Approach advised us again. “Report sighting a
Western DC-10, twelve o’clock and three miles”. As we scanned the northern Alaska evening sky, we spotted the silhouette of the DC-10 against the last remnants of a bright orange sunset. The DC-10 was en route to Anchorage from London via the polar route. We reported it in sight and we were cleared for the visual approach to follow the DC-10. As we turned onto final approach behind the DC-10 to follow them to the airport, pride swelled up inside me until I was about to burst and I turned to my copilot and said “That’s my dad!”
But Aviation was not just his job, it was his passion. In his free time he built many airplanes, sometimes two or three at a time. Some were kits, with parts cut out and ready to assemble, but most were just a set of plans that required each part to be carefully crafted and fabricated.
And occasionally, he would draft his own plans, drawing on his Aeronautical Engineering
background. He loved to fly the airplanes he built and up until just a few short years ago, he was flying one of them out at Clermont County Airport, but he finally sold it at the age of eighty five. But he didn’t stop there. He immediately began building another airplane and I will never forget the excitement and enthusiasm as he showed me the pictures of what he was going to build. If you didn’t know him, you would have thought that it was his first project.
Yet you cannot measure the stature of this man by his mere accomplishments or life
experiences. The true greatness of this man is felt by those who knew him and by those
whose lives were effected by him. His true accomplishments shine, not in what he did, but in the legacy that he leaves behind. He made the world a better place, not by a single grandiose feat, but by touching each one of us deep in our souls. Making each of us better for having had him in our lives.
Now that flame grows weak. His breathing which was deep and labored, is now growing
weak and shallow, the regularity, now random. I call the nurse into the room. I don’t know why really, there’s nothing she can do. She listens to his heartbeat, which now too has become weak and irregular. The minutes seem like hours as we sit so quietly so that we can hear his faint breaths. Again the Hospice Chaplin says a prayer. Then again we wait silently, listening closely for each breath, this time only for a few moments, then silence. The breathing stops.
The nurse lowers her stethoscope to his chest and listens, her only response… “He’s gone”.
Ruth, dad’s care giver and family friend, picks up the Bible on the nightstand and reads Psalm 23. I try to offer a prayer, but my words are nearly unintelligible through my tears. I continue to hold his hand and mom continues to caress his face, but he is no longer there. His soul, like the smoke rising from the extinguished candle flame, has left his body to be with Christ in Heaven.
Several more minutes pass as we all try to regain our emotional composure, tears flood the room and tissues flow in abundance. I don’t know how long we sat there, but no one wanted it to be over. Finally, mom stood up, leaned in and kissed him, waited a few moments, and kissed him again. We all started to gather our things as we prepared to leave. Mom walked around the foot of the bed toward the door, but not wanting to say good bye, she walked up from the other side and kissed him again.
He is gone now and sadness rules the day. Yet we should celebrate his life, a life that most could only dream of. We should celebrate every moment we had with him. Celebrate the love he gave to all of us. Celebrate the fact that someday we’ll all be together again.
I miss him terribly, although I know that he is better off. His fifteen year battle with cancer has finally claimed him and for his last two years he was in great pain. For ninety one years he shone as bright as the sun, but now that light is gone. But his reflection still shines on in everyone that knew him, every life that he touched. That part of him will always be with us.
___________________________________
Dad,
You are my Mentor, My Hero and My Friend
I Love You!
Cubby

___________________________________


~ IN MEMORY ~
WAL Capt. Calvin A. Bugbee
October 20, 1921 ~ February 26, 2013            

    


Notification of the passing of WAL retired pilot Captain Calvin Alfred Bugbee, age 91. Captain Bugbee hired on with Western 07-07-1949 and retired at the mandatory age 60, based SEA. Memorial services were held March 4th at the funeral home in Ohio. You may view the obituary at the funeral home website at http://ecnurre.com/obituaries/details.asp?id=2448

Captain Bugbee had previously resided at Issaquah WA but more recently in Ohio. Survived by his wife Beverly personal condolences may be sent to
877 Cypresspoint Ct., Cincinnati OH 45245-3352 ... (513) 947-8759
or c/o son Guy Bugbee at 253-226-7029 in Washington state.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Calvin A. Bugbee

Visitation Times: Monday, March 4 at 2:00 PM at our Amelia location
Service Details: Memorial service on Monday, March 4 at 2:15 PM at the funeral home followed by Veteran honors.

Obituary:
Calvin A. BUGBEE, beloved husband for 62 years to Beverly Bugbee (nee Hubbard), loving father of Callae Sutton (Thomas) and Guy Bugbee (Bobbie), devoted grandfather of Emma and Tristan Sutton, dear brother of the late Bette Shayne and brother-in-law of Starch Hubbard. Calvin, a resident of Pierce Township, passed away February 26, 2013 at the age of 91. A memorial gathering and service will be held Monday, March 4 from 2 PM until 3 PM at E.C. Nurre Funeral Home, 177 W. Main St., Amelia. In lieu of flowers, memorials for Aviation Scholars may be directed to University of Cincinnati Foundation, 4200 Clermont Drive, Batavia, OH 45103.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Calvin was born on October 20, 1921 and passed away on Tuesday, February 26, 2013.

Calvin was a resident of Bethel, Ohio at the time of his passing.

He is survived by his wife Beverly.

A memorial gathering and service will be held Monday, March 4 from 2 PM until 3 PM at E.C. Nurre Funeral Home, 177 W. Main St., Amelia.

Visitation Times:Monday, March 4 at 2:00 PM at our Amelia location

Service Details: Memorial service on Monday, March 4 at 2:15 PM at the funeral home followed by Veteran honors.

In lieu of flowers, memorials for Aviation Scholars may be directed to University of Cincinnati Foundation, 4200 Clermont Drive, Batavia, OH 45103.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes from from the past.......CALVIN ALFRED BUGBEE:
Bugbee - Hubbard Wedding

Before an altar decorated with garden flowers and lighted by candelabra, Miss Beverly Hubbard and Calvin A. Bugbee, well known and popular young couple, were united in marriage at a beautiful double ring wedding service conducted by Reverend Lowell Larson at the First Lutheran Church at 7:30 o'clock Friday evening, August 25, 1950 in Morris Mn. Miss Bette Bugbee, of New York City, sister of the groom, was maid of honor and Sharon Bok, cousin of the bride, was junior bridesmaid. George Judd, friend of the groom, was best man while Lyle Keith Hubbard, the brides' brother, also attended the groom. The ushers were Verne Cruze and Palmer Anderson.

The bride is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lyle Hubbard of Morris. She was graduated from the Morris high school and since has been a clerk in the Morris Drug store.

Calvin graduated from the School of Science in Wahpeton and studied aeronautic engineering at the U of M. The groom is a pilot on Western Air Lines. He is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Guy C. Bugbee of Morris.

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