The Testor’s Balsa Airplane

It did fly! Fly it did!

As part of my “Things that Fly” series, I have, for several weeks, wanted to share a seemingly insignificant , unimportant aircraft that I know, down in my soul, had a profound influence on my life and on subsequent decisions I made during my life. One would ask, are you kidding? I would respond: yes, without a doubt.

I can recall over the period of three years or so, during summers I spent at Taxahaw, receiving, as a gift, a cellophane wrapped, ready-to-fly, Testor’s rubber band powered, propeller driven, balsa wood, free-flight airplane. As I recall, I received one each summer as a Circe, over the years I lived out at Grannies. These were drug store items that were displayed on their own rack, as I recall. They were displayed to make an impression on youthful customers, for sure. They were attached to a cardboard label at the top of a long, cellophane bag and thus hung neatly on display to catch the eye of any passing, would be aviator. There was one particular drugstore that carried these models consistently over the years and that store was in Pageland on the SW corner of Pearl and Godfrey Streets (my best guess). Just down the street from Mr. Week’s Barber Shop. See an earlier post in this series that references these two, long gone and almost forgotten establishments, here.

The genius of these little aircraft was their multifaceted appeal. They were inexpensive, perhaps thirty-five cents back in 1953. They actually flew with power. The rubber band power was and still is a legitimate way to apply power to a very light, model airplane. These little models were super easy to put together. The balsa components were slotted to allow one surface to join another. The rubber band power would allow them to gain some modest altitude and then when the rubber band gave out the little model became a glider and floated back to the ground for a “dead-stick” landing. Part of the genius was inherent in the relatively fragile nature of the balsa construction. These little toys did not last long. Sad to say!

I found a sister model to the one I’m describing on a vintage site, here. I thought it might give you a better picture of what I’m describing here.

It was so much fun to slip these airplanes out of their cellophane and put them together for the first time. They went together well, that is, the parts fit together perfectly. The rubber band was just a little longer than the fuselage which consisted simply of a square stick of balsa, twelve inches or so. The red plastic propeller had a thrust bearing that held it to the front end of the stick. The tail feathers, vertical and horizontal stabilizers, fit into slots on the opposite end of the stick. It was so easy to put this little plane together.

Well, I know you’re all wondering, how did it fly? It did fly! Fly, it did!

Unfortunately, though it flew well, the little plane was very limited, particularly limited with its rubber band engine. Its flights were therefore of short duration. Just enough power to get into the air and reach an altitude of 15 feet, let’s say. And, then glide, hopefully straight ahead and touch down somewhat flat to the ground with little angle to the horizontal plane. In other words, the sweet little craft tended to come down and strike the earth such that its little propeller would bear the brunt of its kinetic energy. In short, it would tend to crash and damage itself. I really hated that as you might well image.

Picking up the pieces, putting it back together, moving ahead. Hey, a parody of life! So very much to be gotten from a drugstore airplane.

Launching these little craft was easy. One would turn the propeller as many turns as required to wind the rubber band, and get sufficient turns and power needed to carry the plane aloft. Not too many turns, but enough to give yourself a decent little flight. As one wound the prop, one was putting tension on the stick fuselage. So don’t overdo. Yes, the rubber band would lose its strength requiring more winds for the same amount of thrust. Overwinding caused the rubber band to snap and the show was over at that point.

Seeing the little craft take to the air was thrilling! I have never tired of seeing aircraft take to the air, even to this day as there is something intangible that excites. I remain, to this day, a steadfast lover of small airplanes that are equipped with little more than a rubber band to gain access to the sky. So basic, yet so fundamental to our understanding of aviation and of ourselves. All this for thirty-five cents so long ago out in the Sandhills in old Taxahaw.