One in a collection by Allen Bachoroski,
Local Historical Writer,
Tales Along the
Highway of Legends
Note: This
is one in a series of historical stories about local families
in the Trinidad region.
Click here to find out more
about how these stories were collected.
David
P. Newcomb moved his family from the mountains after the
dust bowl to Trinidad and rented a four-room house from
his mother. He paid a small amount each month which went
towards payments on purchasing the house. It was a hard
struggle trying to make ends meet, but everyone was struggling
at that time which was near the end of the depression.
David made a few extra dollars now and then playing with
a group of friends at the country dances. He always enjoyed
playing his banjo and added a lot to the music they played.
At home in his leisure time he often hummed through his
bazooka and seconded with his banjo. His favorite songs
were "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", "Moonlight
and Roses", and "Do-Do-Doey-Day." A big
thrill in his life came when his daughter Betty, was able
to play the piano well enough to play along with him.
The two of them spent many happy hours around the piano
with Betty playing the piano and singing the melodies
and Dave playing his banjo, humming through his bazooka,
and stomping his foot in time with the music.
His dad, Clarence, finally decided there was enough room
on the ranch since he had leased the Miller Ranch on the
North side of the river and needed someone to run it.
His grandmother who lived with his mother most of the
time and was now a widow, loaned him the money to but
a few calves at the La Junta auction sale. With this start
he got a loan from the bank and bought more livestock.
He went on buying and selling for awhile until his dad
discontinued the lease on the Miller Ranch. He did, however,
continue to work for his dad for $35.00 per week and moved
headquarters to the Salt Creek Ranch which lay adjacent
to Highway 160, about 30 miles east of Trinidad. His family
remained in town to attend school and only lived on the
ranch during summer vacations after the house from the
defunct Cokedale Mine was purchased and moved to the Salt
Creek location. Finally it was agreeable with his dad
to buy another small herd of cattle and run them on the
grassland of Salt Creek.
Dave bought a larger house in town and moved his family
into it in October of 1943. Two years later another little
girl, Martha Ellen, arrived, to be followed twenty-one
months later by a baby brother, David Keith. On the day
Martha was born, Dave took his first flying lesson. Other
lessons followed and he began to realize a dream he had
always had--to become a pilot and fly his own plane aver
the plains and mountains he had always loved.
His mother loaned him the money for his first plane which
he bought in 1945. Flying became the most important thing
in his life. It meant the world to him--the one thing
he could do without help from anyone else. The knowledge
was all his own and the world became a different place
when seen from aloft. The vastness of the universes when
viewed from on high seemed to make him feel a power he
hadn't felt before. He liked to rise early in the morning
and fly into the mountains to see the sun come up and
cast its weird shadows on the hillsides and give it glitter
to the many lakes. His trusty camera wa always by his
side for making snapshots he could take back to show his
family and friends. He enjoyed his association with other
flyers and used his plane for ranch work as well as pleasure.
He dropped many messages to rural people and dropped food,
medicine and newspapers to people stranded during the
winter snow storms. The ranch people listened to him fly
over their houses and always came out to wave at him as
he tipped his wings and flew on. If he circled twice it
meant he would drop a message to them.
In his flying Dave seemed to feel security that he didn't
feel any other time. He was known to be a very careful
pilot, always observing the rules and regulations, and
he never flew when he was doubtful of the weather. He
was one of the few who always filed a flight plan even
for short trips.
Dave was a very active member of the First Christian Church,
serving as Deacon for many years, Chairman of the Board
two terms, and holding various offices in Sunday School.
A time of pride was when his musical daughter, Betty became
the organist at the church at the young age of twelve
and he would often accompany her to the church during
the week so she could practice for Sunday services. Dave
was always ready to welcome and seat people who came into
church after services had begun and nearly every Sunday
he helped serve Communion.
He was very interested in the small group of boys and
girls he commanded in the Civil Air Patrol and was able
to help them in many ways to become better citizens. He
was promoted to the rank of Major in this organization
and flew many search and rescue missions when called out
to search for lost planes. Dave also worked with the Boy
Scouts, and his car was always available for hauling boys
to and from camp or other outings. He was extremely proud
when his youngest son, David, received his Eagle Scout
Award on Mother's Day in 1960, one of the youngest boys
ever to receive the award from his troop. He sat up late
many a night to haul Martha and her pals home from the
late show or from some party they had attended. He always
had time to run errands for his parents as they became
less active.
Dave was also very proud of his oldest son, Kenneth Ray,
who had immediately joined the Navy upon graduation from
high school. After a couple of years in the services Ray
(as he was called) met and married a girl from New York.
Within three years they presented Dave with his first
grandchildren, two lively boys, the oldest whom pleased
him very much because of his love of riding on the motorcycle
with his Grandpa. Ray and his family were always stationed
long distances from Colorado; therefore cross-country
trips to Memphis, Tennessee and Norfolk, Virginia were
in order with the whole family in tow. Ray made the Navy
his career and moved steadily up the rank ladder until
he retired as a Lieutenant. During his time in the service
he was also sent to M.I.T. to obtain an engineering degree
which served him well after his retirement from the Navy.
His oldest daughter, Betty, attended Trinidad State Junior
College and then transferred to the University of Northern
Colorado at Greeley where she met and married a young
teacher from Iowa by the name of Dick Owens. Dave was
very happy to be able to give Betty and Dick a lovely
wedding in the First Christian Church in Trinidad, even
though he had been involved in a bad truck wreck and in
bed for five weeks a few months before and had also just
recovered from a siege of pneumonia three weeks before
the wedding. However, he was able to proudly escort her
down the aisle on her wedding day. More happiness was
attained when the first little grand-daughter arrived,
to be followed two years later by a little brother who
was born the day after Grandpa's 51st birthday. He just
couldn't seem to make an appearance on June 27th as his
Grandpa was hoping for.
He flew down in the afternoon after he and Clara Mae had
spent a happy morning doing their Christmas shopping in
readiness for a trip to Betty and Dicks who were living
and teaching in Denver. They were planning to spend Thanksgiving
with them and intended to take Christmas presents along.
Dave planned to return home in the evening after his business
had been accomplished. He ate supper with some friends
(Vern Harris and wife), then went to the airport for his
return trip to Trinidad. Some jokesters at the airport
had hidden his plane and pretended someone had flown it
off by mistake. They kidded him for sometime--long enough
for darkness to close in. They then showed him his plane
sitting in the back of the hanger. (Dave was not one to
joke and seriously believed what they had told him.)
He took off from La Junta at 5:30 and filed his last flight
plan from the air by radio after leaving the airport.
At 6:03 a message was picked up by the La Junta operator
stating his position about fifty miles SSW of La Junta,
bucking a strong head-wind and off course. Nothing further
was heard from him. Four days of undescribable horror,
anxiety and fear was spent by the family as the search
went on for him. Every nook and corner was searched by
planes, men on horseback, on foot, and in jeeps. Everything
possible was done in trying to find him. His plane was
sighted by a flyer from Lamar on Friday November 18th,
crashed along the Cimmaron River banks near Boise City,
Oklahoma. David had been killed instantly on Monday evening
November 14, 1960 at 8:18 P.M.
The mystery remains and will forever be in our minds and
thoughts. WE will never know what went wrong; never know
how he got so far off course and so confused. We will
always wonder where he flew from 6:03 until the time his
plane crashed. He had fuel in one wing of the plane that
was the only piece of the plane left whole. All dials
were turned on, as was his radio. It was set for sending
messages when the plane crashed. We are certain he must
have died a thousand deaths while flying in the darkness,
so confused and not knowing where he was, nor where he
could set down safely. In his last moments he must have
realized that God, as his co-pilot, did not choose to
take him back to his home port and to his loved ones who
were waiting for him. We will never know what his thoughts
were as he flew away into the "Great Blue Yonder",
but we are sure he was not afraid to die. He always said
a man must live and die and should spend his life preparing
for a life in eternity. As his plane was demolished when
he hit the trees and the sand bank, we are sure he was
prepared to die as his Master bid him to.
(Note:
if you have Photos of this family or know of anyone that
does, please have them get in touch with us so that we
might share some photos of the family here)