Survivor of 1954 C-47 crash thinks 'scale needs balancing'

Spectrum, by Rupert Pratt

Sheldon Airport? Sounds good. "Sheldon" is easy to say, a two-syllable word that rolls right off the tongue. Pilots would have no trouble with it, even in the chipped and abbreviated language of flight communication.

But wait a minute! Another two-syllable word might sound even better. Hudson! It rolls right off the tongue too. Before you think I'm straddling the issue, I'll say right up front that if there is to be a name change for the Talkeetna Airport, and I were asked to choose, I'd pick "Hudson Airport."

Actually, I don't have a choice. I'm a resident of New York state. Nevertheless, I hope you'll let me voice my opinion.

Based on contributions to the citizens of Southcentral Alaska and to many who have stepped into that space, both Sheldon and Hudson are equally deserving of having an airport named after them.

However, you wouldn't know that if you were making a judgment based on the history of written works about each man. Sheldon comes out the clear winner in that respect. He's a hero, no doubt about it. He deserves the credit he has received. I can personally attest to that. However, Hudson deserves credit too. That too, I can affirm.

One of the articles written by Amy Menerey and published in the Frontiersman on Sept. 26 mentions the C-47 crash in 1954. She seems to have used Sheldon's biography, "Wager With the Wind," as a source. Unfortunately, the five-page account in that book contains numerous errors and a serious omission. I know, because I was there. I'm one of the six survivors of that crash in which 10 men died.

I mention this only because what appeared in the article was presented as fact; I couldn't let it go unchallenged. I would not want flawed information to influence a decision about the qualifications of either man.

Here is the paragraph in question:

"When a military C-47 crashed north of Talkeetna in 1954, Sheldon took off in search of survivors. Through bad weather and poor visibility he was able to note tracks in the snow, returning the next day to see two survivors dragging an injured third. He dropped them a message in a weighted paper bag saying he would return with help, and took note of a nearby clearing where he would later land with a flight surgeon and supplies. For his efforts, he received a citation from the U.S. Air Force. It was only one of many, less-noted rescues Sheldon would carry out through the years."

Cliff Hudson is not mentioned in that paragraph as taking part in the rescue, nor was his role mentioned in the Sheldon biography, yet he was the major player. In fact, the rescue was a joint effort. This is corroborated by the statements of the survivors in the 1954 United States Air Force official accident report. That time was also stamped into my own memory with such force that I can never forget the series of events.

On Feb. 5, 1954, Hudson received a phone call from Alaska Communications System (ACS) soon after the crash. He was up over Kesugi Ridge within minutes and spotted the wreckage just before a snowstorm moved in. He had to stay in Curry overnight, but was out early the next day as the weather cleared.

He was preparing to fly back to the ridge when Don Sheldon stopped in his Super Cub. He asked Hudson to go with him since he had a radio and Hudson did not. Because Hudson knew the location of the crash, it made sense to ride together. To their credit, both men were shoving aside their sometimes-bitter rivalry to facilitate recovery of six downed airmen.

The six survivors were in two groups of three. I was with Ed Fox and Ed Olson. The two pilots spotted our trail coming down one of the "fingers" of the east side of the ridge. We were trying to get down to the timberline so we could build a fire. There were no "two survivors dragging an injured third." Most of our injuries were minor; we were all able to walk. There was no "message bag" that I remember. Sheldon did some expert flying to set down in a clearing about a mile away.

Hudson brought us snowshoes while Sheldon went back to Curry to pick up Dr. Carl Russell. By then darkness was approaching and it was snowing heavily, so our rescuers set up camp for the night. Sheldon flew us out the following day, one at a time. I remember vividly his Super Cub weaving in and out between scrub pines as we took off from the forested area below Kesugi Ridge. I owe a great deal to both men. I remember telling the crash story to friends over the years and I always said "Cliff Hudson and Don Sheldon" saved my life.

No one knew where the main wreckage was located except Hudson, so an Air Force helicopter picked him up at the campsite. He led them to the crash area to rescue the other three men. His quick discovery of the crash site, just before snowstorms hid it from Air Force rescuers, speeded the eventual rescue of the six survivors. For these actions, Cliff Hudson received the Air Force Exceptional Service Award in 2000, long overdue.

Until the award, Hudson had never received proper credit for that search and rescue, nor has he received just due for his many years of service to others in need. Why is that?

I believe the personalities of the two men have a lot to do with it. Sheldon was extroverted and charismatic. Hudson is a quiet man, kind and gentle, offering help to everyone, sort of like the Lone Ranger, doing a good deed and then riding off.

The scale needs balancing. Sheldon has had the limelight. Now the "Quiet Warrior" needs some recognition. In my opinion, "Hudson Airport" would do it.

Rupert Pratt is working on a book about his two military service years in Alaska, with several chapters devoted to the crash on Kesugi Ridge. The book, whose working title is "Our Own Mountains," will be completed in a few months.