Backcountry Pilot • Hold my beer and watch this! Street landing in NY.

Hold my beer and watch this! Street landing in NY.

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Hold my beer and watch this! Street landing in NY.

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Surprise airplane landings always make headlines. Who will forget Capt. Chesley Sullenberger steering a US Airways jetliner onto the Hudson River in 2009? Then there was a Long Island man who touched down on Rockaway Beach in 2011 and, more recently, a stunt pilot who coasted down safely onto a Suffolk County road.

But the remarkable drunken landings of Tommy Fitz have all but slipped into oblivion. The pilot, Thomas Fitzpatrick, turned a barroom bet into a feat of aeronautic wonder by stealing a plane from a New Jersey airport and landing it on St. Nicholas Avenue in northern Manhattan, in front of the bar where he had been drinking.

As if that were not stupefying enough, the man did nearly the exact same thing two years later. Both landings were pulled off in incredibly narrow landing areas, in the dark – and after a night of drinking in Washington Heights taverns and with a well-lubricated pilot at the controls. Both times ended with Mr. Fitzpatrick charged with wrongdoing.

The first of his flights was around 3 a.m. on Sept. 30, 1956, when Mr. Fitzpatrick, then 26, took a single-engine plane from the Teterboro School of Aeronautics in New Jersey and took off without lights or radio contact and landed on St. Nicholas Avenue near 191st Street.

The New York Times called it a “fine landing” and reported that it had been widely called “a feat of aeronautics.”

The second flight was on Oct. 4, 1958, just before 1 a.m.

Again he took a plane from Teterboro and this time landed on Amsterdam and 187th Street in front of a Yeshiva University building after having “come down like a marauder from the skies,” in the words of Ruben Levy, the magistrate at Mr. Fitzpatrick’s ensuing arraignment. Newspapers reported that Mr. Fitzpatrick jumped out of the landed plane wearing a gray suit and fled, but later turned himself in.

Mr. Fitzpatrick told the police that he had pulled off the second flight after a bar patron refused to believe he had done the first one.

That first flight, Mr. Fitzpatrick admitted, was the result of a barroom bet, according to articles in The New York Times. (He died in 2009 at age 79.)

“The story goes, he had made a bet with someone in the bar that he could be back in the Heights from New Jersey in 15 minutes,” said Jim Clarke, 68, who had lived near the first landing spot and recalls seeing the plane in the street.

“Supposedly, he planned on landing on the field at George Washington High School but it wasn’t lit up at night, so he had to land on St. Nicholas instead,” said Mr. Clarke, who now lives in Chatham, N.J.

After the first flight, Mr. Fitzpatrick was arraigned on grand larceny charges, which were dropped after the plane’s owner declined to sign a complaint. He was also charged with violating the city’s administrative code, which prohibits landing a plane on the street. Mr. Fitzpatrick was only fined $100.

But after the second landing, a judge, John A. Mullen, sentenced him to six months in jail for bringing a stolen item into the city. The judge told him, “Had you been properly jolted then, it’s possible this would not have occurred a second time.”

Sam Garcia, 68, who as a child saw the plane resting on 191st Street, said, “If it happened today, they would call him a terrorist, and locked him up and thrown away the key.”

Mr. Garcia, who now lives in Puerto Rico, said, “I thought maybe they had trucked it in, as a practical joke, because there was no way a man had landed in that narrow street.”

After the second flight, Mr. Fitzpatrick told the police that he had held a pilot’s license but that it had been suspended after the first flight and he had never renewed it because “I did not want to fly again.”

A Washington Heights native, Mr. Fitzpatrick was living in New Jersey at the time of the flights, but still hung around with friends who were regulars in the bars, recalled Fred Hartling, 76, who remembered Mr. Fitzpatrick from the neighborhood.

Mr. Fitzpatrick was a good friend of Mr. Hartling’s older brother Pat, Mr. Hartling said.

Mr. Fitzpatrick was a charismatic, adventurous type who would “butter up my mother” to let him sleep over at the Hartlings’ apartment or convince her to let Pat go out to the bars, he said.

“Tommy had a crazy side,” he said. “The whole group of them, my brother’s friends, were a wild bunch.”

According to an obituary about Mr. Fitzpatrick published in a New Jersey newspaper, he was a Marine during the Korean War and received a Purple Heart. He worked as a steamfitter for 51 years, it said, had three sons and lived in Washington Township, N.J. He remained married for 51 years to his wife, Helen, who, when contacted recently, hung up on a reporter who asked about the flights.

Mr. Hartling, now a retired logistics engineer living in Charlottesville, Va., said Mr. Fitzpatrick “pulled off a miracle” by landing the plane.

It “landed on a street with lampposts and cars parked on both sides,” he said. “It was a wonder – you had to be a great flier to put that thing down so close to everything.’’

Oh the good old days. $100 fine.
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Re: Hold my beer and watch this! Street landing in NY.

The first of his flights was around 3 a.m. on Sept. 30, 1956

I'll easily remember that date-----it's the day I was born.
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Re: Hold my beer and watch this! Street landing in NY.

Funny, we almost seem to be glorifying this guy.....but if someone stole one of our planes & did something like that (think Barefoot Bandit), we'd be screaming to have his nuts cut off.
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Re: Hold my beer and watch this! Street landing in NY.

hotrod180 wrote:Funny, we almost seem to be glorifying this guy.....but if someone stole one of our planes & did something like that (think Barefoot Bandit), we'd be screaming to have his nuts cut off.


I would indeed. But the guys whose plane was stolen seems to have just gave him a "bravo" instead of pressing charges. He found the right plane to steal....
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Re: Hold my beer and watch this! Street landing in NY.

Reminded me of another stolen plane story that was close to home. My dad (who passed three years ago at 96) used to own three small planes when I was a kid. An Aeronca Champ, a Chief, and another one Im not sure of. Maybe a Pacer. Dad was a Pan Am airline Captain and during the summer we would rent a home over on Vashon Island, WA. There was/is a small grass & gravel strip there where he kept the planes. He would often use his plane (usually the Champ) to commute from the Vashon strip over to SeaTac international airport to go to work. During his time off he would often be found tinkering with the planes at Vashon. There was a local kid, maybe about 15-16 years old who was always hagning around the airport asking questions of my dad and wanting to help with the planes in any way he could. He was obviously a bonafide hanger rat airplane nut and my dad couldn't help but to take a shine to him even though he seemed like he might be just a bit of a couple a french fries short of a happy meal. The kid would often sleep out at the airport.

One morning my dad arrived out at the Vashon strip to see the tail of an airplane sticking way up in the air down the runway off in the ditch that was alongside the edge. Right away he could see that it was one of his. So he drives his car down to where the plane is planted to see this kid just standing there waiting for my dad to arrive. It turns out that the kid just couldn't stand it any longer and decided he was going to pretend he was a pilot and taxi one of my dads planes around the field at night. He had seen how my dad hand propped the plane many times before. The plane was banged up real good of course.

It turns out the throttle was nearly full when my dad looked in. The kid says he was only going to taxi around but my dad always wondered if he actually had other intentions. Dad was very grateful the kid didn't get off the ground, or at least not very far off the ground. And even more grateful it wasn't his favorite plane, the Champ.

He took pity on the kid and was real easy on him. He figured anybody that crazy about flying deserved a second chance.
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Re: Hold my beer and watch this! Street landing in NY.

whynotfly wrote:Reminded me of another stolen plane story that was close to home. My dad (who passed three years ago at 96) used to own three small planes when I was a kid. An Aeronca Champ, a Chief, and another one Im not sure of. Maybe a Pacer. Dad was a Pan Am airline Captain and during the summer we would rent a home over on Vashon Island, WA. There was/is a small grass & gravel strip there where he kept the planes. He would often use his plane (usually the Champ) to commute from the Vashon strip over to SeaTac international airport to go to work. During his time off he would often be found tinkering with the planes at Vashon. There was a local kid, maybe about 15-16 years old who was always hagning around the airport asking questions of my dad and wanting to help with the planes in any way he could. He was obviously a bonafide hanger rat airplane nut and my dad couldn't help but to take a shine to him even though he seemed like he might be just a bit of a couple a french fries short of a happy meal. The kid would often sleep out at the airport.

One morning my dad arrived out at the Vashon strip to see the tail of an airplane sticking way up in the air down the runway off in the ditch that was alongside the edge. Right away he could see that it was one of his. So he drives his car down to where the plane is planted to see this kid just standing there waiting for my dad to arrive. It turns out that the kid just couldn't stand it any longer and decided he was going to pretend he was a pilot and taxi one of my dads planes around the field at night. He had seen how my dad hand propped the plane many times before. The plane was banged up real good of course.

It turns out the throttle was nearly full when my dad looked in. The kid says he was only going to taxi around but my dad always wondered if he actually had other intentions. Dad was very grateful the kid didn't get off the ground, or at least not very far off the ground. And even more grateful it wasn't his favorite plane, the Champ.

He took pity on the kid and was real easy on him. He figured anybody that crazy about flying deserved a second chance.


That reminds me of my early flying days, probably racking up hours for my commercial or instrument or something--don't recall. There was a hangar rat kid, about 15, who used to ride his bicycle out to the Laramie Airport and beg for rides from anybody who looked like he was going alone.

One day he asked me, and I told him to call his mom so that I could talk with her first. She said it was OK (she knew me, though I don't recall that I knew her), so we went up in a 172. I let him do some of the flying, and then I asked him if he'd ever been in an airplane that was spinning. He thought that would be exciting, so we climbed up to about 11,000' or so, and I put it into a left hand spin for a couple of turns before pulling out. When I asked him how he liked it, he looked at me, still with terror in his eyes, and asked if we could please go back to the airport.

I'm afraid that that experience quelled his aviation enthusiasm. I didn't see him come out there again.

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