CASEY WRIGHT » FLIGHT OPERATIONS MECHANIC, YANKS AIR MUSEUM
Yanks Air Museum in Chino, California is home to one of America’s premier warbird collections, with more than 200 historic aircraft spanning early aviation to modern jet fighters.
Thirty-four year old Casey Wright is one of the museum’s top mechanics and restorers. He’s also part of an oft-overlooked segment of the warbird world— the extremely talented guys and gals who keep ’em flying. The specialist knowledge of the relatively tiny cadre of folks who work on warbird engines, airframes, and systems is a precious commodity. Bringing a new generation to this sometimes arcane business is essential for the warbird community’s survival.
Like Rathbun, Wright has aviation in his blood.
His grandfather, Charles Nichols, began the Yanks collection in 1973 and still guides the museum today. Nichols, Wright’s father, and his sister are all pilots, but “I never went down that road,” he says.
Instead, he tapped into the family’s heritage in mechanics. His paternal grandfather was a mechanic with the 501st Bombardment Group in WW II, and his father was a talented diesel engine and aviation mechanic as well. As a child, Wright spent days with his dad learning to fix two-stroke diesel engines and worked on some of the aircraft in his grandfather’s collection.
His father encouraged him to go to college and pursue a different career. Casey graduated and went to work for ammunition manufacturer Berger Bullets. A firearms enthusiast, he thought he’d be working on guns but spent most of two years “looking at Excel spreadsheets.” When the company announced it was moving from California to Arizona, Casey decided the business wasn’t for him.
“I told my Dad, ‘I want to come back and work on airplanes.’”
“He said, ‘No you don’t. You’ve got a college degree and you want to do more with your life. You don’t want to be a mechanic like me.’”
“I said, ‘I love it too much, Dad. It’s always going to be in my blood, whether I’m working on a motorcycle, a car or an airplane.’”
And with that he joined the family business that is his real passion. He also began absorbing all of the knowledge he could about working on warbirds, learning from Yanks’ mechanics including Bobby Carter and Randy Purdey, museum pilots, and the community of restorers and maintainers that exists at Chino Airport.
Wright’s first project was installing a full feathering prop kit on Yanks’ Lockheed C-40, tricky work given the complexity of the Pratt & Whitney R-985 nine cylinder radials that power the twin-engine transport.
“Breaking into an engine with that many moving pieces was really fun for me,” he says, adding that the airplane is “really finicky” and that he’s constantly fixing things to make it “perfect.”
Next, he participated in the restoration of the museum’s P-40E, helping to bring the Warhawk back to flyable condition while learning as much as he could along the way. Wright says his work on the P-40 is his biggest achievement. But he’s proudest of the blood, sweat, and tears he’s put into Yanks’ P-63A King Cobra, spearheading a project that has taken four years.
“During the pandemic. I spent the year and eight months that we were locked down at the museum with Joe Yancey, in his hangar building the Allison for the P-63,” Casey notes.
The knowledge he gained from working with Allison V12 expert Yancey—who runs Yancey Allison Engines at Chino—was invaluable, culminating last August with an engine run that marked first time the King Cobra had come alive since 1979.
“Once it started and there was oil pressure and case pressure in the nose … I can describe it with only two words: pure happiness. That’s second best only to seeing it fly.”
The P-63A was scheduled for its maiden test flight in mid-June, an event sure to have put a big smile on Wright’s face.
He’s proudest of the blood, sweat, and tears he’s put into Yanks’ P-63A King Cobra ... “Once it started and there was oil pressure and case pressure in the nose ... I can describe it with only two words: pure happiness. That’s second best only to seeing it fly.”
“I would not have gotten through any of these steps along the way if there wasn’t somebody who was willing to help me,” Ben Wilson says modestly.
Modestly because 31-year old Wilson carved his own path to becoming a warbird pilot by combining desire and enthusiasm with a willingness to work hard and form relationships that could help him achieve his goal.
Unlike Rathbun, Wright, and many others who are part of the warbird world, Wilson had no aviation background and didn’t start flying and pursuing an aviation career until he enrolled at Oklahoma State University.
It was a ride in the CAF Gulf Coast Wing’s B-17 “Texas Raiders” during an airshow that lit a fire within him to get close to and ultimately fly warbirds himself. Wilson then did everything he could to make his dream a reality even though, initially, he had no idea how to make it happen.
By chance, a church friend introduced him to some of the staff/volunteers with Cavanaugh Flight Museum in Addison, Texas. Following Wilson’s first year at college, he started volunteering at Cavanaugh during the summer.
“I showed up, wanted to be there and explained that to them,” Wilson says. “That’s how I got behind the ropes. I started meeting people and mostly cleaning airplanes and hangar floors. That was quite a shock, walking into the hangar being a volunteer and standing in front of a Mustang thinking, ‘I’m supposed to wipe this thing down!’”
Thereafter, Wilson would show up “every
“The Mustang is pretty hard to beat. It’s not only the prestige of knowing what this airplane represents and what it did. It’s a genuine, honest-flying airplane, a joy to fly.”
day during the summers” getting to know everybody involved with the museum, from its director on down, while simultaneously building skills at OSU for an aviation career.
“I’d take that experience and grow my enthusiasm throughout the semester, work on flying progression, getting other ratings, building time and go back to Cavanaugh for Christmas break or semester break. I’d run back to the museum every chance I could.”
Gradually the staff at Cavanaugh became aware of Wilson’s enthusiasm and aviation skills. As college progressed he earned multiple ratings and began working as a flight instructor. He wondered how he might get involved in the flying part of the museum and asked. The museum staff told him the easiest way to build the necessary 200 hours of tailwheel aircraft experience would be to buy a taildragger.
That somewhat daunting prospect didn’t deter Wilson. He found a bank that would give him a loan and, with help from the aviators at Cavanaugh, found a “janky 1949 Cessna 170 that was three shades of lime green but perfect!”
The $19,000 Cessna was now his, but he didn’t have enough money for fuel.
“So through people I’d made connections with, I started interning with a small flight department that operated Cessna Citations in Oklahoma. I instructed the airport manager there, trading flight instruction for a fuel credit. I mowed the lawn, helped the flight department any way I could, and they let me keep my 170 in their hangar.”
Flying the 170 to the museum as often as he could, Wilson made sure he was available when any opportunity arose. When it appeared the museum might need a pilot to volunteer to give rides in its Stearman, Wilson asked if there was a chance he could be trained for the task. Cavanaugh pilot Chuck Gardner checked him out and by 2014, he was flying the museum’s PT-13.
By 2016, Wilson had graduated from college and was flying Beech 99s and 1900s for Ameriflight from Dallas while getting checked out in Cavanaugh’s T-6 and its DeHavilland CV-2B Caribou.
“That helped me get experience to get into some of the crewed warbirds. I was able to build higher horsepower multi-engine time and that made me a realistic option for flying the C-47 and B-25.”
The time Wilson had spent around the museum led to another opportunity, flying Dassault Falcons for Jani-King founder Jim Cavanaugh’s flight department.
“It came full circle,” Wilson says. “It started with knowing the chief pilot as my ‘in’ to the museum. Then five or six years later, he ended up hiring me to be one of the corporate pilots. I ended up flying their Falcons, got to know Mr. Cavanaugh better and started flying the T-28s he had in Florida.”
In 2020, Ben checked out in Cavanaugh’s P-51D “Brat III,” one of the only surviving Mustangs with a combat history as a part of the 370th Fighter Group in England.
“The Mustang is pretty hard to beat. It’s not only the prestige of knowing what this airplane represents and what it did. It’s a genuine, honest-flying airplane, a joy to fly.”
This year, Wilson is hoping to complete a check out in one of Cavanaugh’s two Skyraiders. None of the opportunities he has pursued would be possible without a positive outlook.
“Be humble about your expectations,” he advises. “Be realistic and be happy to be behind the ropes!”