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Chuck Thomas By franklin Price 9/21/2019 I'll tell you of a legend who flew hard in Viet Nam Of a pilot who flew everything, who said that's who I am With a propeller or a rotor or a jet, he'd lead the way If it left the ground he'd fly it. That's just how he earned his pay When the war was over, a test pilot he became Did it for the fun of it, and not just for the fame Would it hold together, was the plane a fake or gem The testing was exciting, was the here and now for him I met him riding Harley's, when his piloting was done Riding then on two wheels, was how he had some fun Rode as hard and rode as fast as anyone around Then one day in Africa, I found him on the ground He had ridden to a vineyard where the specialty was Port Was returning on the right and not the left I must report A building blocked the view, of a tractor, he would hit. As he came around the turn, he smacked it more than just a bit He thought he was an acrobat as he was flying through the air Had no plane around him, that was done and was not there. Landed with no flaps and no wheels to touch the ground We, waiting at the restaurant, had heard the crashing sound. I hopped upon my Harley and I headed for the noise Was riding in the left lane like South Africa enjoys When I came upon the scene, Chuck was still upon the turf Had found out that a hard paved road, was not the place to surf Was cradled by nurse Susi, who was a member of our band Was still resting in the same place where he had come to land Underneath the wire of a fence beside the lane Chuck was not unconscious nor appeared to be in pain What happened next is much a blur, somehow we got him to a doc Who found he had no broken bones, not much damage from the knock Said Chuck should rest a day or two then he could ride again We all felt relieved that day, that it was a tractor, not a train.
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