Robin and Johnny Patterson

Note the rope attached to the Zephyr - story below

Bob recalls:

Don Alstrop and Duane Raymond were on Military leave, so I decide I would drive them to 'Vegas and they agreed to pay for the gas. Stopping at a San Berdoo gas station to buy junk food, they filled the tank. Climbing up the Cajon Pass, the 12 cylinder engine started to ping loudly. As we passed the summit, we were trailing a cloud of smoke and I asked 'what kind of gas did you buy?.....They replied 'The cheapest'...As we rode into Barstow, the engine began missing power strokes and konked out in front of a gas station.

Duane talked the attendant to let us use his tools. We walked to a nearby Ford dealer and bought a set of head gaskets detached the 2 cylinder heads and installed the gaskets, The engine wouldn't jump start and at 11:00 PM we forgot about 'Vegas and called Turv. About 11:AM, pop and mom arrived with their Dodge and a tow rope and pulled us back to LA.

What you see on the front bumper of the Zephyr is that same tow rope. Turv's diagnosis was that the 12 cylinder engine block was cracked. He said that the crack closed when the engine was cold, but it opened up when the engine warmed up. He proposed that I trade it in. That evening he had driven the car to a nearby ford dealer, parked it one block away and let it cool for an hour, then drove it one block and started shopping for a new car, closing the trade in deal for the '41 Ford coupe for $700 and the Zephyr. Three months later, the Sheriff telephoned me asking if I owned a '39 Zephyr... No, I traded it in. The sheriff explained that they had found that Zephyr submerged in the pond in a San Fernando Valley sand pit

Don and Duane, not I, continued in the scouts and became Sea Scouts. Their troop had a longboat in LA Harbor and they were oarsmen and ended up joining the US Naval reserve and were called to duty in 1941. I, who had read about the horrors of war, instead got a job that deferred my being called to such duty. In 1942, Don and Duane both got leave from their duty, and we all went shooting for rabbits in the desert east of Palmdale.

We had all rented 22 caliber repeating rifles and had a good walk but saw no rabbits. That afternoon, each of us having nearly a whole box of 22 caliber bullets left, blundered onto a pile of tin cans and bottles that someone had dumped. In the mesquite sage and greasewood near the highway, we arranged these bottles and cans as targets and backed off about 200 yards to determine who was the best sharpshooter.

Crawling to the prone position of a sniper, each of us discovered that our targets were too far away so we began crawling closer Don, who was 20 feet to the left of me had crawled about 20 feet ahead of me as I was cradling my rifle in the crotch of some greasewood. My shot struck a mesquite twig and ricocheted into the middle of Don’s sweatshirt!

We were near our parked car and, after getting directions at a gas station were at the Palmdale Maternity Hospital within 15 minutes, where the only doctor on Sunday duty within 50 miles probed Don’s wound and said the bullet must have fallen out.

He put a band-aid on it, I paid $25 and he said he must report gunshot wounds. Two days later Two FBI agents found me at home and explained that when anyone shot a Navy man, they were required to make a complete report of the incident.

XB-19 after completion

Bob continued working at Interstate Aircraft as an illustrator this year on the XB-19 project. Due the the war, Douglas demanded everyone work 80 hour weeks. This would eventually be too much of a strain on Bob, who would go AWOL the next year.

Bob was dating Robin, an artist, but he proved to be too "normal" for her, so she married another artist instead.