Bare-Faced Messiah (PDF) - Apologetics Index

they both passed their tests at Congressional Airport. Ron was rated 85 - average - by the examiner
and was awarded Commercial Glider Pilot Licence No 385.[6] By then he had completed 116 flights
- evidence of the amount of time he had devoted to the sport in the two months since the gliding
club began training.
It was hardly surprising that Ron's success as a glider pilot was not matched by academic
achievement and his grades at the end of the second semester were disappointing. He got an A for
physical education, B for English, C for mechanical engineering, D for general chemistry and Fs for
German and calculus. His overall grade for the year was D average, a result which gave no
pleasure at all to his parents. They were convinced that he could do better.
After a stern warning from his father that he would be expected to show a big improvement in his
second year, Ron left Washington to spend the summer vacation at Port Huron, Michigan, where he
had arranged to help a friend, Philip Browning, run a gliding school. While he was there, Browning
taught him to fly a small stunt plane, although Ron never held a licence for powered flight.[7]
Ron was still in Port Huron when he learned in August that his beloved grandfather had died. The
entire family gathered in Helena for the funeral - all six Waterbury 'girls' (Hope had died in childbirth
in 1928) were there with their husbands and children and Ray came from Canada with his wife.
Lafe was buried at Forestvale Cemetery, a quiet patch of prairie mid-way between the town and the
mountains. Immediately after the funeral, Ron returned to Washington to report for two weeks'
annual training with the 20th Marine Corps Reserve and was rated 'excellent' for military efficiency,
obedience and sobriety.[8]
On the morning of Sunday 13 September 1931, the good people of Gratis, Ohio, a small farming
community in Preble County, were surprised to see a small biplane swoop out of the sky and land
on a field to the east of the town. The pilots, according to an awed report in the Preble County
News, were Philip Browning and 'L. Ron "Flash" Hubbard, dare-devil speed pilot and parachute
artist'.
The newspaper reported that the two flyers were forced down after running short of fuel. George
Swisher, on whose farm they landed, must have been a phlegmatic sort of chap, because it was
averred that his first words were: 'Anything I can do for you boys?' After the 'dare-devil speed pilot
and parachute artist' had explained the problem, an obliging local by the name of Raymond
Boomershine volunteered to run into town to get them some gas.
'Meanwhile,' Ron would recall, 'a lot of people were arriving. They wanted to know if we needed any
help. And we said the plane had to be turned around and although they were all in their Sunday
best they grabbed the tail and turned her around. Then Raymond Boomershine came back with the
gas and helped us fill the tank. We tried to pay him and he said "Nope" and my pal said, "We don't
know how to thank you." And Raymond said, "Well, if you put it that way, I always wanted to ride in
one of them things. How about a short hop?" That started it. Everyone and his kids got a ride.'[9]
According to the Preble County News, a total of thirty-six 'daring souls' were given a joy-ride that
Sunday, by which time it was too dark for the fliers to leave. They stayed the night with Mr and Mrs
Luther Kiracofe and next day 'roared on to St Louis, headed for more adventures'.
On the same day Ron was roaring to St Louis, he was also placed on 'scholastic probation' at
George Washington University because of his poor grades. When he eventually returned to
Washington he appeared unabashed by this stricture, for he continued to devote much of his
energy to the gliding club in the hope of raising sufficient funds to purchase a soaring plane.