The world of aviation lost a long-lived hero in late October when Bob Hoover passed away peacefully in Los Angeles at the age of 94.
Hoover’s career spanned the golden age of flight and he lived the life; earning the friendship and respect of the biggest names in aviation history, from the great pioneers Orville Wright and Charles Lindbergh, to war aces Jimmy Doolittle and Eddie Rickenbacker, and astronaut heroes Neil Armstrong and Yuri Gagarin. He was also famously friendly with fellow legend, Chuck Yeager, who called him “the greatest pilot I ever saw.”
Lanky, tall and equipped with a charming Tennessee drawl, for decades Hoover was a star turn at air shows. His trademark trick consisted of cutting out the engines and turning his plane into a clumsy glider in which he would perform breath-taking aerobatic manoeuvres with an elegance and ease that just didn’t look feasible.
He was always recognisable with his straw panama hat and his penchant for flying in a suit, as opposed to a flying suit, “to save the undertaker time” he once explained.
“to save the undertaker time” he once explained.
Hoover was nearly the first person to break the sound barrier but his charming sense of mischief ensured that honour went to Yeager. Both men – who had been flying in shows together for a couple of years – were recruited to train together to fly the Bell Aircraft X-1, the rocket plane that broke the sound barrier in October 1947 over the Mojave Desert.
Unfortunately for Hoover, earlier that year he had buzzed a civilian airport in Springfield, Ohio, in an experimental military jet. It was a favour to a friend who wanted his relatives in the area to think he was flying the aircraft. But top brass, not generally known for their sense of fun, punished Hoover by relegating him to flying the ‘chase’ plane during the X-1 flights; making observations and taking photographs while Yeager made history.
During World War II he was assigned highly responsible and skilled work, but he didn’t like it because he wanted to be on the front line. He eventually got his way and, en route, he terrified senior pilots who had been lording it over him by flying a P-40 fighter under a bridge while they were standing on it.
He went on to fly 58 successful missions with the 52nd Fighter Group, based in Corsica. These included rescuing a damaged B-26 from a beach in Sicily, for which he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. After his Spitfire was downed by the Luftwaffe in February 1944, he spent the next 16 months in Stalag Luft I, a POW camp in Germany reserved for Allied pilots.
During the chaotic final days of the War in Europe, Hoover and a friend escaped by climbing over a barbed wire fence while guards were distracted by a fake fight. He then stole a rickety Focke Wulf Fighter from a deserted air base.
Hugging a cloud ceiling around 4000 feet – ready to disappear into it should Allied aircraft sight his German plane – he flew westwards searching for liberated Holland. “I wanted to see windmills to be sure,” he later wrote. After a tricky landing he found himself surrounded by angry, pitchfork-wielding Dutchmen who, understandably, believed he was a Nazi pilot. He had to be rescued from the potentially deadly situation by British troopers in a passing truck.
After the War Hoover was a test pilot at a time when records were falling like flies as new aircraft were being developed to go higher, faster and farther. They all needed tested and he was one of the best at putting brand new, un-flown, fresh designs through their hoops. Natural instinct, nerves of steel and incredibly varied experience all came into play. In the words of World War II hero Jimmy Doolittle, Hoover was “the greatest stick-and-rudder man that ever lived.”
His sense of adventure did not diminish with the passing years. In 1966, at age 44 – and still not halfway through his flying career – he upset the Soviet authorities at an international competition in Moscow. He put on a display which was mesmerising but unauthorised, flying upside down and executing spectacular loops in a Yakovlev-18. By his own account, the stunt angered his hosts and he only avoided custody because a slightly drunk Soviet superstar, Yuri Gagarin, waded in on his behalf.
These celebrated incidents are mere fragments of Hoover’s flying history. The subtitle of his memoir, written with Mark Shaw, catches the timeliness of when he became a boy flyer:
“Fifty Years of High-Flying Adventures, From Barnstorming in Prop Planes to Dogfighting Germans to Testing Supersonic Jets.”
From humble origins, the teenage Hoover had to work 16 hours a week in a grocer’s in order to purchase 15 minutes of flying. Neither his superstar status at air shows nor his unique talent ever impinged upon his humble attitude. His innocent love of flying for the sheer pointless joy of it followed him into old age and ensured he was always grounded, happy and, above all, a gentleman.
Mark Baker, the president of the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association, summed him up;
“Bob Hoover brought great richness to the aviation experience, and he leaves behind a legacy of heroic caring and sharing with the general aviation community. The first time I met Bob, I was seated next to him at an aviation event, my eight-year-old son by my side. Bob both spoke and listened to his aviation dreams. He offered encouragement and some great stories. And though my son is long since grown, neither he nor I have ever forgotten that an aviation legend gave a child who dreamed of flying his full attention and encouraged him to dream even bigger. Bob Hoover was so much more than a great pilot. He was a great man and a model for what our community can and should be.”
