I tell this as an interesting story, not as something to learn from. Well, other than air rage is not particularly new.
On my student solo cross country in the mid sixties when I was a freshly ticketed 16 yr old student pilot, I was flying the only plane I had ever flown to that point, a J-3 Cub. I had been taught by a youngish instructor, who had been taught by several older, wiser pre-WWII pilots and WWII pilots. It was taught relatively religiously then that when you reduced power on downwind, you made it a point to keep the plane within engine out gliding distance of the threshold through base and final (a carryover from the early days of aviation when engines were quite unreliable). That obviously keeps a slow J-3 quite close in to the runway and threshold by today's standards.
I arrived at the airport just as I had been briefed. My pattern altitude was right on. There was a plane crossing the threshold to land which confirmed the active pattern/runway. The aircraft I was flying was NORDO-which was very common then, since there were no handhelds invented yet. I looked and swiveled and checked, and triple checked for any traffic as I patterned very properly. On final, at about 200 ft AGL a fast twin passed on the right slightly above me and descended with a curve back to over the runway, and proceeded to land long in front of me. As he passed when he was almost directly in front of me he aggressively "cleared his engines", I presume at a minimum to give me a rough ride. My decent rate was a lot steeper than his, and after the excitement of the edge of the wake turbulence, I continued down into flare and landed. I turned off at the first turn off and taxied to the pumps to get return trip fuel. When I was starting the fueling process the twin roared up close (too close) and cut his engines, and an elderly man came bounding and roaring out of the aircraft absolutely enraged, and gave me an emotional expletive enriched description of exactly what I was and what I had done.
Evidently he was either on a straight in approach, or very long final, and with the background of slightly rising terrain, plus the town for a visual background, I had not seen him during my search for other aircraft. I would have had to spot him straight on, and since he was fast he would have been quite a ways out when I was looking for him. I had never been in a pattern with fast movers before, so it was a rather dramatic and emphatic education. I had missed seeing him in spite of my excellent young vision, and my thorough search for other aircraft.
I was quite shaken at that point, not from the air portion, even though I knew if I had been directly in his wake with the blast from his props and my slow speed, it could have been more than exciting, but because of his very self righteous damning rage.
Finally he wound down, and left. I finished fueling, and when I went in to pay, the counter attendant commented that he noticed I had "met" the resident airport asshole, and that I should take it in stride, that my new acquaintance wanted to run the whole airport and everyone on it.
Ahhh. Memories.
lc