A place to land Mike Masterson

The unlikely tale of Arkansas heliport 42AR at Mountain Home is worth telling. Baxter County Sheriff John Montgomery still smiles when recalling how he and his staff created their personal airport to serve the department’s 1970-model military surplus helicopter.

“The county had been paying $4,500 a year to lease space for our latest, third-generation helicopter out at the county airport, which was miles from our department and inconvenient for our needs,” he said.

“So one Monday in the spring of 2006, our helicopter pilot Benny Magness said he’d seen applications for a matching grant were being accepted for airport construction in the state,” he continued. “But they had to be filed by that Friday, which meant we had less than five days to compile and submit a lot of technical details.

And none of us knew the first thing about creating an airport.”

Being a nothingventured-nothinggained-kinda dreamer, Montgomery asked Chief Deputy Jeff Lewis to check into applying anyway, realizing full well how odd it would be to have a sheriff’s office seeking a grant to create an airport.

Plus the sheriff’s administrative offices are located not far from the city square in a congested traffic area with trees and power lines. It was not an ideal area for an airport. In other words, the odds against them being approved for an airport grant following a site survey were, one might say, longer than a 747’s runway.

They began preparing the application on Tuesday and, lo and behold, barely made the Friday deadline, a feat in itself. Montgomery knew any trees could be removed and power lines moved to accommodate a building that could house their helicopter and a concrete landing pad.

So they waited on a wing and prayer (sorry, couldn’t resist) for a response.

They soon were summoned to Little Rock to meet with the incredulous commissioners who would weigh this improbable idea. “They asked right away if we realized we were a sheriff’s office applying for an airport grant.” Montgomery said. “I told them, yes sirs, we do. I then explained our idea and how much it would help us improve in responding to those needing help over a six-county area.”

The matching Arkansas Department of Aeronautics grant was to be awarded in two parts totaling $53,125. Baxter County’s in-kind share would be $14,500. “At that time, our annual operating budget for the helicopter was $19,000,” Montgomery said, “which included the airport lease, insurance, fuel and repairs.”

Montgomery and his staff came home and waited for the verdict. He expected a no. Yet a few days later came the good news. The sheriff and his department rejoiced. Finally they would have their helicopter right next door whenever needed for search and rescue.

But of course, it’s always something. And in this case, the sheriff in his haste to get the grant in on time realized he’d accepted the in-kind grant without explaining and asking the Quorum Court for the county’s $14,500 share.

Uh-oh. Those kinds of gaps in protocol often don’t sit well with local politicians who like being kept in the know, although there had not been a Quorum Court meeting where Montgomery could explain before the grant had to be submitted.

With this awkward cart squarely in front of his horse, the personable sheriff stood at the podium before the justices of the peace to explain how things had unfolded so quickly and how surprised he’d been to even have had his grant request approved. In short, he asked if they would sign off on funding the county’s share after the bulk of those costs had been awarded.

Among his selling points, other than convenience, was the county would lose the airport’s $4,500 annual lease fee, which would recoup its $14,500 in-kind expense in only three years while reducing overall operating expenses to $15,000 a year.

The justices thankfully saw the wisdom in Montgomery’s explanation and, just like that, 42AR was becoming a reality in a vacant field behind the administrative offices.

A hangar large enough to hold the helicopter, as well as a second one used for parts, along with office and bathroom went up quickly with help from jail inmates, and the concrete landing platform was laid. Since then, the helicopter’s volunteer pilot (the mechanic also is a volunteer) has averaged between 80 and 100 hours of flying time in helping whenever called on everything from rescues to missing persons and apprehending fugitives across the closest six counties.

Not long ago, Montgomery was in his office when he heard a resounding crash. Looking out, he saw a car had sailed through the intersection near the department, careened downhill over the grounds and smashed into the spare-parts-helicopter parked outside. “What are the odds of something like that happening?” he said, shaking his head.

He also grins when reflecting on how everything had to fall into place 13 years ago to create his FAA-approved 42AR. “Many folks don’t know Baxter County was actually the first law enforcement agency in Arkansas to have its own helicopter 35 or 40 years ago,” he said. “Now it’s a minute away.”

The moral: Pursue your dreams, regardless how seemingly far-fetched.