Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, December 15, 1994 TAG: 9412230005
SECTION: NEIGHBORS PAGE: S12 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: LISA APPLEGATE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
But his friends will.
"Gene is known for his sweetness and humility," Dorothy Peters said. "We thought he deserved recognition for the man that he is and all the contributions he's made."
So, 50 of Sweeney's closest friends recently attended a surprise dinner at the Charcoal Steakhouse on Williamson Road in Roanoke - an event organized simply to honor a man they adore.
Dorothy Peters' husband, Bob, said Sweeney was one of his first flight instructors, more than four decades ago.
"I would say Gene has more aviation experience - in terms of the ratings he's achieved, the parts of the world he's flown over, the different planes he's licensed to fly - than anyone else in Virginia," Bob Peters said.
In fact, Sweeney has piloted 36,000 hours in his long flight career. That kind of knowledge is respected by this group of men, whose passion for flying has bonded some of them together for 50 years.
"They were flying during the cusp of the growth of aviation," Dorothy Peters said.
At the dinner, after the speeches had been made and hands shaken, Sweeney wandered to the table that displayed some of his proudest moments.
There, in a framed case, was his Distinguished Flying Cross for outstanding service in World War II. And close by was an enlarged photograph of the largest plane he has ever flown: a DC-8 four-engine passenger jet. Behind that sat a map of the world, with most of the continents criss-crossed with black lines marking his various flight paths.
"Never made it to the South Pole, though," he said.
He was 8 when his family moved to Roanoke from West Virginia in 1924. In the seventh grade, he left school to help his mother raise his sister and brother.
His first flight, with his uncle in 1928, launched a love of flying in Sweeney.
"I thought all of it was glamorous," he said.
After he earned his first pilot's license in 1935, he remembers scraping pennies together so he could fly. He would take off in a rented plane from a dirt runway in a nameless open field. Years later, that land was named Woodrum Field; it is now part of Roanoke Regional Airport.
Sweeney was one of the first from Roanoke to be drafted for military service in World War II and asked to serve in the Air Force. After studying nights and during breaks, he earned the equivalent of a two-year college degree and was sent to the Air Cadets.
He soon became an Air Force lieutenant and piloted some of the most dangerous transport flights of the war.
Sweeney made 67 round-trip flights over "the hump" - an India-to-China route that crossed the Himalayan Mountains and enemy territory.
"The Japs would never shoot at us, though," he chuckled. "They'd just wait 'til we dropped the supplies, then take over the base."
The Chinese air force awarded him its air medal and wings for his efforts.
He also flew food and supplies during the Berlin airlift, which he said was more cold than frightening.
After the war, he began Crescent Flying School, a successful business that chartered flights and repaired airplanes. And he co-founded the Acorn Flying Club.
"There were 10 of us who wanted to do some cheap flying, so we each put $300 in and bought an airplane to share," he said.
Acorn members now must pay $10,000 to buy into the deal.
When he was sent to Honolulu for the Korean War in 1950, he used his few spare moments to add several licenses or ratings to his credentials.
His piloting repertoire includes both the multi- and single-engine seaplane, the helicopter, the hot-air balloon and a tiny, two-cylinder plane called the C-2 Aeronca that's the size of a bathtub.
"I never flew an airplane I didn't like," Sweeney said.
He has a tough time deciding which was his most interesting flight while he was a commercial pilot in the '60s. It was probably the time he flew a baby elephant from Paris to the United States - one of the first elephants to be transported to an American zoo.
Or perhaps it was when he carried the 2,100 rhesus monkeys that were being studied during development of the polio vaccine.
Certainly, his most frightening moment was trying to land, in the pouring rain, a small twin-engine plane with no lights or radio and little fuel.
"I followed the highway lights up to Martinsville and landed in a field. ... Said a few prayers on that one."
His cataracts keep him from flying now, but Sweeney still has opinions about his favorite passion.
He said the Roanoke airport is the prettiest one he's ever seen. But he is worried about the future for big airlines.
"Those pilots are overpaid - so are the mechanics. If they could take a pay cut, these airlines wouldn't be going under."
He said he looks forward to seeing even greater advancements in flight. Meanwhile, he'll enjoy reminiscing about the early days of aviation with his friends.
"I'm telling you, I'm rich," Sweeney said during the party. "You don't realize how lucky you are until something like this happens."
Memo: ***CORRECTION***