The Minion Airfield in Salmon Arm was a popular stop for cross-country pilots and a well-known local landmark for many years. It took over the lives of Joyce Minion, her husband Harold and their three children from 1962 into the seventies. "We were known from Alaska to the most southern states as a most unique airfield. People would fly in on a Sunday afternoon like a Sunday drive and stay for tea," said Minion. "We were available seven days a week from before daylight until after dark. You get used to the sound. Many mornings in the summer we would (hear an engine and) get up with sleep in our eyes."

For Minion her interest in flying and pilots began during the war. Her cousin Jim, who was like a big brother to her, was pilot of a Wellington bomber. When he and a crew of seven were lost after a successful raid over Germany just two weeks prior to being sent home because their English home field was too busy for them to land she was devastated. A lasting concern for pilots in distress was one legacy of the tragedy.

Naturally, when the Department of the Air Force put out a call for volunteers for a Ground Observer Corps in 1954, she responded. The need was critical in her valley, which was known for great turbulence over the mountains and lakes. She and Harold were expected to keep track of aircraft flying through, mostly between Calgary and Vancouver. They would report whether a plane was single, double or multi-engined and its approximate altitude and direction.

"I was chief observer throughout the valley," said Minion. "I would lift the receiver and say 'alpha, foxtrot, 44, black' and immediately I was at the desk of Airfield Headquarters in Vancouver Search and Rescue. I had spotters Kamloops way and Revelstoke way on 24-hour shifts. I had a special German Shepherd who was my shadow. He would wake me up at night if a plane went over. Prince was on the list in his own right as an aircraft spotter."

The most high profile situation they dealt with took place in 1957. Minion received a call saying that an aircraft from the U.S.A. had not been reported since Calgary. She remembered hearing the plane overhead. Harold and his brother drove up to the Fly Hills, where flares had been reported, while Minion told searchers by air where to fly. But these efforts and later ground searches were to no avail. Minion is still haunted by thoughts of the two men from Michigan who were never seen again.

In 1960 the Pinetree Line and DEW Line were completed and the Ground Observer Corps was disbanded. But Salmon Arm had no airport and, with the forced landings that had taken place in their hayfield in mind, the Minions approached local officials about the feasibility of putting in an airfield for emergency use. "We were told that we had rocks in our heads - that Salmon Arm was not ready," said Minion.

But the Department of Transport thought otherwise. They took the suggestion so seriously that instead of writing they sent a team of three men to the farm to survey and check out the soil. Minion's wedding anniversary, June 5, 1962, saw her feeding about 1000 people on opening day at the half-mile field that could stretch to a mile by opening a cattle guard into a neighbouring field. MLA Davey Fulton made a speech and skydivers from Vancouver entertained the crowd.

The first flying club started instantly, with an instructor from Kamloops who stayed at their farmhouse. He wanted to teach her to fly, but Minion declined. The following years were a whirlwind of activity, with boarders or overnight visitors usually sharing the large house and both of them working second jobs as well to help pay down the mortgage. They made lots of friends and memories during those years. Minion enjoyed the annual 1927 Club Trans Canada Air Dash during which pilots had to land on grass strips only, bum their gas and food and sleep under the wings of the plane. "What a bunch!" she said. One year she put up a seismology team from Ottawa who were surveying in the Fly Hills. "There was always room for one more," she laughed. "The children got moved around a lot." She fondly remembers finding pilots more than once for medical emergencies, one who taught her to split rocks and another who helped her son with his Math. "Pilots are a different breed," she said. "They're very helpful." She treasures the honourary wings she and Harold were presented with at an annual ceremony recognizing new pilots.

Eventually they sold the farm to a pilot and built in the bush in Tappen, but they continued to fill their house with people, especially youth groups. They bought a trailer when Harold retired and spend much of the year fishing and hunting all over B.C. But Minion has never lost the habit of looking up whenever a plane flies overhead.

Feb 07-Lynn Dewing