THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 21, 1996 TAG: 9604200139
SECTION: PORTSMOUTH CURRENTS PAGE: 03 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: By PHYLLIS SPEIDELL, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 99 lines
SIXTY YEARS AGO in West Palm Beach, Fla., a young Francis Horne spent hours in local movie houses, mesmerized by the screen exploits of the Dawn Patrol and other World War I flying aces.
More than anything, Horne wanted to be a fighter pilot. But he was black and, according to the policy of the then-legally segregated military, unqualified to fly.
That did not stop Francis Horne from pursuing his dream - and helping to break down racial barriers in the United States.
Now retired, Lt. Col. Francis Horne visited with Waters Middle School students recently and told them how the Tuskegee Airmen changed the way the U.S. military viewed blacks and how his experiences as one of the airmen shaped his own self-image.
The Tuskegee Airmen evolved from an Army Air Corps experiment that tested blacks' ability to fly fighter planes.
``In those days, we were looked upon as naturally born inferior and unable to learn to fly a plane,'' Horne said. ``The experiment was set up to fail, but the Tuskegee Airmen proved them wrong and changed the attitude of the country.''
Tuskegee Army Air Field in Alabama was designated the country's single flight training center for black pilots. Between March 1942 and June 1946, 926 black pilots earned their wings - and more than 450 of them flew over Europe and North Africa during World War II.
They were assigned to bomber escort and coastal patrol missions and became experts at aerial combat. Their fighter group, the 332nd, flew more than 15,000 missions and lost 66 pilots killed in action and 32 taken as prisoners of war.
Before Horne's visit, the Waters students had watched a cable TV movie about the Tuskegee Airmen, but he cautioned them that the movie was only about 70 percent accurate, the rest of it pure Hollywood.
For every pilot, Horne explained, there were 10 soldiers who provided ground support: mechanics, radio repairmen and general helpers. All of those soldiers at Tuskegee, including Horne and two of his brothers, considered themselves Tuskegee Airmen.
``People will tell you you can't do, but you are the only person who can tell you what you can and can't do,'' Horne said in a grandfatherly tone. ``Tuskegee Airmen showed that pilots of whatever color, shape or size are just as good as they prove themselves to be.''
Horne told the students he had graduated second in his high school class with a 3.8 average and, encouraged by rumors that the Air Corps - forerunner of today's Air Force - might integrate, applied for the entrance exam.
``That day was a turning point in my life, a real-life lesson.''
On exam day Horne and one other black recruit were seated in the hallway outside the room where the white recruits were tested. Horne said that when he finished his test, a white recruiter took his exam and, without a glance at Horne's answers, said to him: ``Sorry, boy, you didn't make it.''
Unwilling to relinquish his dream, Horne found his way to Tuskegee Air Field as an enlisted man. While he waited to be tested for flight school, Horne hung around the fighter planes, learning as much as he could about how they worked, and he became a mechanic's helper.
Later, Horne was trained as a radio operator/repairman. Although he never was able to train as a pilot, Horne pleaded his way aboard every flight he could.
``I may not have gotten to fight my Red Baron, but I logged 5,000 hours of flying.''
After the war, Horne used the GI Bill benefits to graduate from Hampton University, where he was an officer in the Army ROTC. When fighting broke out in Korea, Horne was called to active duty and stayed in the Army until his 1968 retirement.
His proudest moment came during a military meeting in Korea. Discussion had become heated. A Korean officer suggested, ``Let's hear what the American has to say'' - and looked directly at Horne.
``He said `the American.' He did not say `the black American,' '' Horne recalls. ``Finally, 7,000 miles from home, I was recognized as a man with a country, dignity, and self-worth.''
Dignity and self-worth were two attributes Horne tried to instill in his students in the Newport News public schools, where he taught math and technology after his Army retirement.
``I specialized in the kids who they said could not learn - because all my life I had been told I could not do it,'' Horne said.
When Horne finished speaking at Waters, the students applauded and rushed off to class. Except for Canedra Polk, a 13-year-old eighth-grader. With tears in her eyes, Canedra asked for Horne's autograph and then grinned and gave him a hug.
``It is an honor to meet someone who has made the way for African-Americans in this world,'' Canedra said. ``I watched the movie and read books about the Tuskegee Airmen, and I always wanted to meet him.''
And then, looking at Horne, she added: ``No matter who we are, we can be anything we want to be.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by MARK MITCHELL
Retired Lt. Col. Francis Horne, one of the few remaining Tuskegee
Airmen, talks to students at Waters Middle School. Horne helped
change the military's view of blacks as pilots.
by CNB