FRANK DOOLITTLE'S TELLS ABOUT HIS FIRST RECOGNIZED
EXPERIENCE WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT:
Ok, I went to church every Sunday. I was even made an Elder of Sandwich United Church and even administered communion to “shut-ins”, but, although I wanted to believe, I really didn't until this experience in 1967.
I was in my prime (45); no challenge too great for me.
It was Canada's Centennial year and the “flying sector” was celebrating it with an air race from London, England to Victoria, B.C. And I had access to the plane that could win that race; a single engine, 4 place “Mooney 20B”, but it didn't have the range to safely cross the Atlantic; so I located a used aircraft fuel tank that I could mount on the back seat and had my proposed installation approved.
I needed to brush up on my ADF (automatic direction finder) as that was the only navigation aid available to cross the Atlantic, and the stations were far apart.
I planned an exercise from Windsor to Sarnia and return; had supper, checked the weather, got the plane out, filed a flight plan and got airborne. The flight to Sarnia, using the Windsor ADF outbound was very satisfactory. I made a “180” and initiated a 1,000' climb for the return trip, but before reaching my planned altitude the engine quit for no apparent reason.
Almost immediately, I experienced a joy that exceeded any joy previously experienced, no fear whatsoever. To glide back to Sarnia airport was out , as I would have a head wind. My options were, 1) ditch in the St. Claire River, 2) land on the roadway, as I could see a row of lights along the river roadway, 3) a small dark area showing no reflecting light. As I lost altitude and my night vision improved I could see the river covered with icebergs coming down from Lake Huron, so it was out. The roadway was out because the tree branches almost met in the middle of the road. That dark area just happened to be in the right place for me to skim over the tree tops and plop down in a ploughed field with very little damage to the air-plane, but I crushed one vertebrae (that I am still nursing 40 years after), as I forgot that the wheels were retracted and I stalled 4' too high.
I managed to walk across the field to the only house with a light on and knocked on the door of an OPP constable, preparing to leave for his 11 0'clock shift and he took me to his precinct after notifying the tower that I was down safely.
I believe now, that the Lord wanted to take me out of this race. Maybe He knew that the plane wouldn't stand up to it or that I was not ready for it, and wanted to keep me around.
I know I've used the single person pronoun on this report, but I feel sure God was my co-pilot or was He the pilot?
Ask me for more information or to elaborate.
Frank Doolittle
EPILOGUE:
Frank is no goody goody, rather a down to earth straight shooter.
He has told me that the peace he had while gliding in the dark emergency landing into an unknown field was literally "out of this world"
- nothing before or since ever has matched it, And he lived life full out.
Funny he flew on all those missions in Europe and meets God in the almost dead silence flying solo on a cold winters night.
At ninety one Frank still holds a private pilot's license.
He is amazing, always looking for the bright side.
Dave Herron