Tuskegee Airman Calls Alabaster Home

As a child growing up in the suburbs of Chicago in the early 1930s, well before the flight training and far before any military accolades, Harry E. Ford, Jr. loved airplanes.

He used to watch them fly over his house, zooming high overhead, and like many kids of his generation, he longed to one day be a part of that world.

Unlike most, however, he decided to actually make that happen. He saved up his allowance, and when he’d built up enough money, he headed out by foot for the nearest community airport.

“There was an airfield about 12 miles from where I lived,” he said, “so I hitchhiked there on a Saturday. I had five dollars, and for five dollars I got to ride around in the air for about 15 minutes. And then from then on, I used to go over on Saturdays when I could, and some of the pilots that had a liking for me, I helped them wash airplanes, so I got free rides.”

For Ford, it was the seminal event of his childhood, and one that would guide him throughout the rest of his life, as he went on to become a highly-accomplished pilot and a member of the legendary Tuskegee Airmen.

Today, Ford is a retired colonel, living happily in a quiet neighborhood of Alabaster, though like most accomplished aviators, he’s still happy to talk about planes. It’s that same passion that led him to volunteer for the pilot program at Tuskegee during World War II.

“I wanted to fly,” he said, “so I kept that in the base of my mind, and when the Army Air Corps started taking black potential pilots, I volunteered.”

Ford completed his Army Air Corps basic training at Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Miss., and in the summer of 1944 was sent to Tuskegee for his cadet course and pilot training.

The training at Tuskegee consisted of four distinct phases, including the cadet course, plus primary, basic, and advanced flight training. It was held at two different locations: Tuskegee Army Air Field and Tuskegee Institute’s Moton Field, which is where the pilots were actually taught to fly.

“I soloed at about ten hours of instruction,” Ford said. “We had the major there who gave me a 25-hour check, check you to see if you’re keeping up with what they think you should, and then I had a 60-hour check given by [Alfred] ‘Chief’ Anderson.”

For basic and advanced flight training, the pilots returned to Tuskegee Army Air Field, which is where Ford was introduced to his new aircraft, the B-25 bomber.

“I flew an AT-6 in basic,” he said, “and after flying and finishing basic, I was sent to advanced. In advanced, they had a new program. Instead of flying the T-6 or the P-40 airplane, the twin-engine pilots, which I was, flew B-25 airplanes. That’s a Billy Mitchell bomber.”

World War II ended before the bomber pilots could be sent overseas, but the earlier classes of fighter pilots performed beyond compare. Ford speaks proudly when discussing the combat success of his peers:

“It showed that they could do the job,” he said, “whereas before, they said that blacks didn’t have the intelligence to fly airplanes, they couldn’t be leaders, they couldn’t be led, they couldn’t be disciplined, and all kinds of things of that nature.”

Their success also built momentum for integration, and in 1948 President Harry S. Truman issued an executive order to desegregate the military. It was a milestone that would allow for many great military careers to come, including that of Col. Ford himself.

Following his graduation at Tuskegee Army Air Field, Ford would go on to a distinguished career in the Air Force, serving in Panama, Thailand, the Pentagon, and ultimately NATO Headquarters in Belgium, where he was awarded the Legion of Merit. He was further distinguished as being the 25th black to rise to the rank of full colonel.

After all the years and experience, however, it’s still the thrill of aviation that gets him most excited. He’s an active member of the Birmingham Aero Club, and he recently joined the Civil Air Patrol, for which he promotes aviation to today’s youth.

Above all, though, it’s the actual time in the air he most enjoys. When questioned about his time back in Alabama, the first thing he mentioned was the local airport.

“I go out to the airport here,” he said, “the county airport, and I fly with some people who let me. I can’t pass the flight physical, but I can fly with them. You know, I can’t take off and land, but I can still fly.”