Stacyville is site of jet crash, more than 56 years ago

By Deborah Rafford
Special to the Pioneer Times
    STACYVILLE — You never know what will be found in the Maine woods. In 1999, Peter Noddin, an Aviation Archaeologist with the Maine Aviation Historical Society, worked at finding and documenting aviation crash sites. Who would have known that one particular site would have far reaching effects on two grown children and the families of Air Force Capt. George C. Thomas.
    The wreckage of an F-86A Sabre fighter jet lay scattered across an area of more than several hundred yards. Traveling near the speed of sound, it had struck the earth at a steep angle. It went down on March 10, 1952, in Maine, about 60 miles from the Canadian border, in the little town of Stacyville. 
Contributed Photo/Deborah Rafford
Memorial Brick  Kathy (Thomas) Sullivan, left, stands with her brother Rick Thomas, holding a memorial brick that was presented to them in memory of their father, by Maine Aviation Curator Mike Cornett.
    On that fateful morning, Capt. Thomas and two other pilots had climbed into three sleek, swept-wing Sabre jets at the Air Force Base in Presque Isle. The trio, dubbed “Parasite Blue,” took off on a routine camera gunnery mission. As a layer of clouds hung over the land far below, they climbed to 20,000 feet. One pilot was the ‘tow ship” or target, flying on a set course. The other two were to make passes at the target, shooting gun camera footage without actually firing their guns.  
    After one pass, things went horribly wrong for Thomas. He heard a strange noise in his cockpit and attempted to fix the problem. The two pilots watched Thomas’ jet make unexpected moves, and his voice, on the radio sounded confused. Suspecting hypoxia, a condition in which the body receives insufficient oxygen, the flight leader directed him to turn on 100 percent oxygen in his plane. The other pilots watched Thomas’ Sabre climb to 27,000 feet, roll over, and plunge steeply down into the clouds. On the ground, an explosion was heard. Thomas’ final radio transmission had come just before the plunge. “Roger, Blue leader,” he said, his voice indistinct. “I read you.”
    Kathy Sullivan was home in Grantville, Pa., on a late summer day in 2008 when two military jets, locked in formation, swept over her house. It got her to thinking of her father, who had died in a jet fighter crash 56 years earlier. The two jets seemed to be missing a third, so she decided to check something out, and went to her laptop. She was shocked when, for the first time ever, she entered her father’s name into an Internet search engine, and there it was.   
    A link to a recently posted video of actual jet wreckage, and engine and pieces of cockpit and fuselage, scattered deep in the Maine woods. It was the first time Sullivan had seen the place where her father had died in 1952.
    The remote crash site had been found by civilians, decades after the military finished its recovery and investigation. Jets were not meticulously brought out of the woods back then like they are today.  Because his plane was destroyed, the Air Force could not be precise on the cause of the crash.  Its investigation revealed Capt. Thomas had changed helmets just before takeoff. It concluded that the effects of hypoxia may have caused him to lose control.
    Sullivan and her brother, Rick, never thought the place where their father died would be so well-preserved.  It was below a canopy of hardwood trees. Some family members, including brother, Rick, immediately traveled to Maine. That was last year. A second trip by an even larger group was scheduled for this Labor Day Weekend.  
    Sullivan, now 61, recently bought hiking boots.  She was too emotional to go last year. “I wasn’t ready, she said. “But now I am.”
    Sullivan was five when her father died, little brother Rick, was two, and they soon returned with their mother to central Pennsylvania. Their father was buried in Geyer’s Church cemetery in Londonderry Township.  Time passed, Jeanette Thomas remarried, her two children grew up, got married and had children of their own. The site of Capt. Thomas’ death was rarely mentioned in the family. Tom Richards, a younger brother to Jeanette Thomas, said, “The family just assumed that all the wreckage had been taken out. Then, Kathy Sullivan watched that fateful video late last summer.”
    Jordan Cyr put the video on U-Tube. When Kathy found the site, she called Noddin to ask him all about what he had found. Noddin agreed to bring them up to Stacyville to the site.
    Kathy states that she needs closure with her father. Rick has come back a second time, with his son, Brandon. Mike Cornett, the curator of the Maine Air  Museum, also came, and presented Kathy and Rick with a model of the F-86A Sabre that their father flew in. It was a somber moment, as fleeting expressions passed across the two faces. A memorial brick, engraved with the words: Captain G.C. Thomas, March 10, 1952, Pilot F-86A Sabre Jet, will be kept at the Aviation Museum, in Bangor.
    As the group of a dozen or so got ready to leave out of Sherman, Kathy looked the most apprehensive. Her dad always said, “Life goes in chapters.”
    “This was Dad’s last chapter, and he was 31. I want to read the ending,” she stated.   
    Rick Jr. thought seeing the site would do a lot for him. “To just physically be there, where he died, will be amazing.”
    Kathy said they have all read about the site, and heard Rick’s account of it when he went last year, but this is a family thing. We are all going together to see it. Rick’s wife, Jan, didn’t know Thomas, but thanked Noddin for making it possible for them to see the crash site.
    “I wrote a letter,” said granddaughter Chrissi, smiling as she teared up, “I want to thank him for bringing us all here, and for the closure. Even though I never met him, I still love him.”
    When the group arrived back in Sherman, there were mixed emotions about the trek into the woods to see the crash site. “I feel so much better since being there,” sighed Kathy, “That’s where he is resting, not at the cemetery. It made me sad to leave it.”
    Brother Rick echoed the sentiment. “It was emotional for me. I was so glad to have my wife, kids and grandson there to see it. It was a part of Dad’s life they never knew. I’ll be back for sure next year.”
    Rick Jr. was amazed that there was still paint on the plane after all these years. “I’m glad to have my son with me,” he smiled, “I couldn’t tell him about Pappy. He got to see it for himself.”
    “It was, surreal, awesome really,” stated Chrissi, “It was like it happened months ago, not years ago.  It was like he was there with us. I left my letter in an old ammo can. It is now a GEO cache site, so people can write things or leave things there, and other folks coming by can see or read them. The earliest entry was in April or May 2008 by Jordan Cyr. We all signed the book, and took up a full page.  Rick hung a picture of his Mom and Dad on a tree last year. It was still there.”
    After trekking in (the location was about 400 yards off the trail by Swift Brook), there was a feeling of, “Oh thank God, we finally made it. We can’t thank Pete enough for finding it and taking us to see it,” said Kathy Sullivan.  
    Noddin says he learned a lot about George Thomas through helping the family. “It was a win-win situation,” he said, “It filled in a lot of blanks, for everyone.”