Grounded for Good : After 44 Years, Myriad Landings and Takeoffs, Meadowlark Airport Closes

As they’ve done for years, fathers walked their children past scores of multicolored planes parked at Meadowlark Airport on Thursday. Dozens of people gathered at the the airport’s cafe, waving at planes taking off into the clear sky overhead.

And pilots swapped stories as they glanced over the beaten runway.

All for the very last time.

The barnstorming days came to an end Thursday when the Huntington Beach airport, the last privately run field in Orange and Los Angeles counties, shut down after 44 years of operation to make way for condominiums and a shopping center.

To those who knew Meadowlark, the airport was more than a place to land an airplane. It was a way of life that offered camaraderie, a freewheeling spirit and an escape from urban congestion.

“Here there’s still a touch of romanticism, a feeling of good-old-time pilots and airplanes,” said flight instructor Benedict Rael. “This is a special place, and now it’ll be gone.”

Generations of pilots have used the 65-acre airport, flying in and out in rapid succession without the help of a control tower. Hundreds of people, hooked by the appeal of taking to the sky, have taken flying lessons at Meadowlark. And some airport regulars have even called the airport home.

“You know,” said Ray Rice, a self-proclaimed airport bum known for his black leather flying cap, “I’m going to miss this place.”

Concerned about noise and the danger of crashes, neighbors for years have lobbied to close the airport.

Art and Dick Nerio, who have owned Meadowlark since 1952, finally decided to sell the land, which will be cleared for a 15-acre shopping center and a tract of about 350 homes. The Huntington Beach City Council approved the plans in February, 1988.

“I guess that’s progress,” said Jack Weidi, a mechanic at the airport.

Pilots and residents alike on Thursday said the airport is a down-home place, one of the last fields around where people can walk on taxiways, touch the airplanes and chat with veteran pilots.

“I’ve been to over 40 airports,” Rice said. “There’s nothing in the world like it. It’s like stepping back in time.”

Regular visitors to Meadowlark, where pilots fill up at a self-serve gas pump and even help with airport repairs, said the field is an asset.

“It’s an end of an era not just for here, but for the whole county,” said Susan Jesse, an 18-year resident near the airport who started taking flying lessons after coming to Meadowlark regularly. “It’s the end of small-town charm. This is the last oasis. There is nothing left to develop.

“It’s a crying shame that it’s happening. The airport is a novelty. It’s a shame the city hasn’t seen it as that.”

With the proposed development, there will be “more smog, more traffic, more cars,” Jesse said, eating lunch amid revving airplane engines. “When we’re out here at night, you see the stars and hear the crickets. It’s so comforting.”

Pilots who keep their planes at Meadowlark, one of two Orange County airports exclusively for private pilots, moved their planes to other airports Thursday--but not before fly-bys to salute an airport that has hosted biplanes, racing planes, specialized aircraft and a host of private craft flown by World War II veterans, commercial pilots and beginners.

The tiny airstrip at the corner of Warner Avenue and Bolsa Chica Street has always been unique, enthusiasts said.

“Name one other airport in the country where you can sit within 50 feet of the runway, walk on and kick the tires,” Rice said.

Flight instructor Carl Roseman, who has taught there for 10 years, said Meadowlark has a carefree atmosphere that few airports can match.

“It’s a folksy airport,” he said as his plane was being serviced. “This is a very, very sad day.”

Said pilot Dave Payne: “The bottom line is we’ll really miss this place.”

Art Nerio, who has managed the airport since 1974, said he felt ambiguous about giving up his job, which included collecting $3 landing fees on his bicycle.

“When you leave something, you have mixed reaction,” he said. “I’m happy there will be something new, but I will miss the people.”

About 33 people will lose their jobs when the airport shuts down, Nerio said, adding that construction on the property is scheduled to begin next year.

Pilots said they will remember Meadowlark for its challenging landings.

The 2,200-foot runway--just 35 feet wide and cluttered with weeds--is short by aviation standards. The approach is tricky, as planes skim nearby homes and trees.

“If you can fly out of Meadowlark, you can fly out of anywhere,” said Jack Humber, a pilot from Long Beach who flew Lancaster bombers for the Royal Canadian Air Force during World War II.

Bob Stevens, 57, of Westminster took his Cessna 182 on a short hop, circling the single-engine plane around the airport for one of the last times.

“It looks awful small the first time you land,” Stevens said of the runway as he scanned the skies in preparation for landing. “You do not want to screw up.”

Meadowlark enthusiasts attended a barbecue Thursday night to commemorate the end of Meadowlark. Some even took souvenirs to remind them of the airport.

But many had enough memories to carry them through.

Since he was 2 years old, Eric Trowbridge, now 24, had come to the airport to watch planes. Later, he washed planes to earn money for flight school. He got his pilot’s license when he was 16.

“I’m going to miss a lot of my friends,” he said as he surveyed the taxiway. “I did a lot of growing up here.”

Recalling that the airport has had its fair share of accidents, including an emergency landing in January when a restored 1941 biplane crashed nose-first into a fence just north of the runway, the airport’s neighbors had mixed reactions over the closure.

H.J. Smith, who lives under the flight path, said the January crash came within feet of his home of 12 years. The airport, he said, has been a constant source of noise.

“I feel sorry for the pilots, but it has been very annoying,” he said. “I’m glad to see it go.”

For others, the novelty hasn’t worn off.

“I’m heartbroken it’s gone, I mean it,” said Jeanne McGregor, who has lived under the landing path for two years. “I guess nothing is sacred anymore.”