This was a seasoned flight crew, military trained with excellent flying records. Not a trace of them or their plane has ever been found. Richard in particular was a seasoned navigator, a very logical and intelligent man...
I went to school with Richard's daughter, Barbara, a brilliant woman, who was always wondering what happened to her father...
Excerpt from:
"The last words were innocuous: "Roger. Miami overseas, 6567."
It was probably Louie Giuntoli's voice. The 41-year-old pilot of the C-119 Flying Boxcar sounded calm on the radio as he acknowledged switching to a clearer frequency of 6567 kilocycles. He didn't sound like a man in distress. He didn't sound like a man about to disappear.
The crew from Milwaukee's 440th Airlift Wing was flying over the Atlantic Ocean south of Florida on the heavily traveled Yankee Route. Though maps don't identify the area as such, it's known as the Bermuda Triangle. Another half-hour and the 10 men on board should have arrived at their destination, Grand Turk Island in the Bahamas.
It was a clear night with good flying weather. When they didn't land, radio traffic controllers started calling Plane No. 680. The crew didn't answer. Nothing more was heard from Plane No. 680. Nothing was found. Not the men. Not their aircraft. Only a few scraps of debris that could have been tossed out of the cargo plane. It's as if they were just swallowed up by the turquoise waters.
That was 40 years ago. It's been four decades of silence. And pain. For the families and friends and colleagues of the missing 440th crew, their questions will never be answered. And even though the Air Force Reserve wing in Milwaukee will soon close, Plane No. 680 hasn't been forgotten.
All that is left now is a plaque dedicated to the crew that hangs at the 440th headquarters and a C-119 plane painted exactly like the missing aircraft that's on display near one of the facility's gates. The loss left a hole in the 440th - an entire flight crew plus experienced maintenance specialists. Kids grew up without their dads, wives continued their lives without their mates, co-workers wondered about the fate of their friends and colleagues.
...
"Phyllis Adams dropped off her husband, Milt, 36, a flight engineer, at the 440th headquarters at Mitchell Field (in Milwaukee, WI) on June 5, 1965. It was a Saturday. Her daughters, 14 and 8, and 7-year-old
son came along.
"Well, myself and my three kids took him to the airport and he said goodbye and he said, 'I'll see you in a few days.' And that was it," said Phyllis Adams, 73, who met her husband while she was on a date with Milt's cousin.
Milt Adams disappeared not long before he would have celebrated his 10th wedding anniversary. Someone from the 440th called her the day after she dropped her husband off and told her his plane was overdue but that she shouldn't worry.
"Famous last words," she said.
She has thought of him every day since June 5, 1965. She has questions that will never be answered. She has read the official accident report and noted the number of pages that are missing or blacked out.
"Let me put it this way: That was a big aircraft. There were 10 people on board. They had another engine on board. There was luggage," Phyllis Adams said. "You mean to tell me that if that plane crashed that nothing was found?"
...
"Also on the plane that night: the co-pilot, 1st Lt. Lawrence F. Gares, 27, of Milwaukee; the navigator, Capt. Richard J. Bassett, 32, of Milwaukee; and the maintenance crew, Raoul P. Benedict, 35, of Milwaukee; Duane W. Brooks, 32, of Caledonia; Norman J. Mimier, 34 of Muskego; and Frank Ellison, 41, of Muskego.
A 10th person, John W. Lazenry, was also on board. The Air Force airman was picked up in Miami and hitching a ride to the Bahamas on the Flying Boxcar, which got its name from the bulky cargo area between the distinctive twin tails.
Crews used to joke that the C-119 traveled so slowly that the Earth rotated underneath it.
Other planes vanished, too.
The Milwaukee C-119 wasn't the first, the biggest, nor the last aircraft to disappear in the Bermuda Triangle. Though the triangle has been the subject of many books and TV documentaries, Plane No. 680 is simply one more incident in a long list of mysterious disappearances in the area loosely defined as stretching from Bermuda to Miami to San Juan, Puerto Rico..."
No trace of this plane, or the crew/passengers, nor anything from this place has ever been found...
I went to school with Richard's daughter, Barbara, a brilliant woman, who was always wondering what happened to her father...
Excerpt from:
"The last words were innocuous: "Roger. Miami overseas, 6567."
It was probably Louie Giuntoli's voice. The 41-year-old pilot of the C-119 Flying Boxcar sounded calm on the radio as he acknowledged switching to a clearer frequency of 6567 kilocycles. He didn't sound like a man in distress. He didn't sound like a man about to disappear.
The crew from Milwaukee's 440th Airlift Wing was flying over the Atlantic Ocean south of Florida on the heavily traveled Yankee Route. Though maps don't identify the area as such, it's known as the Bermuda Triangle. Another half-hour and the 10 men on board should have arrived at their destination, Grand Turk Island in the Bahamas.
It was a clear night with good flying weather. When they didn't land, radio traffic controllers started calling Plane No. 680. The crew didn't answer. Nothing more was heard from Plane No. 680. Nothing was found. Not the men. Not their aircraft. Only a few scraps of debris that could have been tossed out of the cargo plane. It's as if they were just swallowed up by the turquoise waters.
That was 40 years ago. It's been four decades of silence. And pain. For the families and friends and colleagues of the missing 440th crew, their questions will never be answered. And even though the Air Force Reserve wing in Milwaukee will soon close, Plane No. 680 hasn't been forgotten.
All that is left now is a plaque dedicated to the crew that hangs at the 440th headquarters and a C-119 plane painted exactly like the missing aircraft that's on display near one of the facility's gates. The loss left a hole in the 440th - an entire flight crew plus experienced maintenance specialists. Kids grew up without their dads, wives continued their lives without their mates, co-workers wondered about the fate of their friends and colleagues.
...
"Phyllis Adams dropped off her husband, Milt, 36, a flight engineer, at the 440th headquarters at Mitchell Field (in Milwaukee, WI) on June 5, 1965. It was a Saturday. Her daughters, 14 and 8, and 7-year-old
son came along.
"Well, myself and my three kids took him to the airport and he said goodbye and he said, 'I'll see you in a few days.' And that was it," said Phyllis Adams, 73, who met her husband while she was on a date with Milt's cousin.
Milt Adams disappeared not long before he would have celebrated his 10th wedding anniversary. Someone from the 440th called her the day after she dropped her husband off and told her his plane was overdue but that she shouldn't worry.
"Famous last words," she said.
She has thought of him every day since June 5, 1965. She has questions that will never be answered. She has read the official accident report and noted the number of pages that are missing or blacked out.
"Let me put it this way: That was a big aircraft. There were 10 people on board. They had another engine on board. There was luggage," Phyllis Adams said. "You mean to tell me that if that plane crashed that nothing was found?"
...
"Also on the plane that night: the co-pilot, 1st Lt. Lawrence F. Gares, 27, of Milwaukee; the navigator, Capt. Richard J. Bassett, 32, of Milwaukee; and the maintenance crew, Raoul P. Benedict, 35, of Milwaukee; Duane W. Brooks, 32, of Caledonia; Norman J. Mimier, 34 of Muskego; and Frank Ellison, 41, of Muskego.
A 10th person, John W. Lazenry, was also on board. The Air Force airman was picked up in Miami and hitching a ride to the Bahamas on the Flying Boxcar, which got its name from the bulky cargo area between the distinctive twin tails.
Crews used to joke that the C-119 traveled so slowly that the Earth rotated underneath it.
Other planes vanished, too.
The Milwaukee C-119 wasn't the first, the biggest, nor the last aircraft to disappear in the Bermuda Triangle. Though the triangle has been the subject of many books and TV documentaries, Plane No. 680 is simply one more incident in a long list of mysterious disappearances in the area loosely defined as stretching from Bermuda to Miami to San Juan, Puerto Rico..."
No trace of this plane, or the crew/passengers, nor anything from this place has ever been found...
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