View allAll Photos Tagged Refuse,
Chassis: Peterbilt Model 320
Body: Heil DuraPack Python
Hauler: City of Walla Walla Sanitation
Location: Walla Walla, WA
Date: January 2025
See More Trashy Photos & Videos At: The Thrash 'N' Trash Website
©Bryn Erdman. All Rights Reserved.
Chassis: Peterbilt Model 320
Body: Heil DuraPack 7000
Hauler: Basin Disposal
Location: Walla Walla, WA
Date: January 2025
See More Trashy Photos & Videos At: The Thrash 'N' Trash Website
©Bryn Erdman. All Rights Reserved.
I had to travel again and needed to pack up the computer, but Hermione didn't want to move from the warm laptop power brick.
( I tried to tap on the table to get her attention for the shot, but she mistook this as me leaving a treat for her. While I didn't get my picture with her looking at me; she did get off the power brick so I could pack it)
Alternate 'respect your cat' shot
Dunno, found the brush-like refuse interesting, stopped to photograph it. Stood out among the various wrappers and styrofoam coffee cups.
- Road Trip en Islande - Jour 10
- Région Nord Islande :
Quittons Hvítserkur et je me dirige vers les Fjords du Nord côté Est
Ce n’est pas le meilleur de mon voyage vers Hólmavík et la côte du Strandir
Qui était une option de mon voyage si le temps était assez long et ce fut le cas.
Sinon la route et les paysages de cette région n’a que peu d’intérêt.
De plus mon appareil principal refuse totalement de fonctionner et il s’averrera
Plus tard à mon retour une panne d’alimentation. Heureusement j’ai mon EM5 MKII en secours . Arrivé à Hólmavík je décide de suivre la côte du Strandir et c’est une belle découverte, sauvage, découpée avec des petites plages, elle vaut le déplacement jusqu’à Djupavik ensuite retour à Hólmavík pour la nuit.
Strandir est le nom islandais de la côte est de la grande péninsule de Westfjord . Le nom est le pluriel du terme côte et se traduit par les côtes. Pendant des siècles, la région a été l'une des régions les plus isolées d'Islande. C'était une partie difficile à vivre, des terres limitées à cultiver et des déplacements difficiles; c'était vrai même au 20 siècle. Curieusement et en raison de la richesse des zones de pêche, Strandir a eu sa part d'entreprises à la fin du 19ème siècle et aussi au 20ème siècle, même si la communication était extrêmement difficile.
-
- L'Islande c'est la terre, le vent, le feu, l'eau et la glace ...
- L'Islande, c'est haut, c'est loin, mais c'est beau (J.C.)
- Merci pour vos passages sur les vues, favoris et commentaires.
- Road Trip in Iceland - Day 10 -
North Iceland Region:
Leave Hvítserkur and head for the North Fjords on the east side
Not the best of my trip to Hólmavík and the Strandir coast
Which was an option of my trip if the weather was long enough and it was.
Otherwise the road and the landscapes of this region are of little interest.
In addition, my main device totally refuses to work and it will turn out
Later when I got back there was a power failure. Luckily I have my EM5 MKII as a backup. Arrived in Hólmavík I decide to follow the coast of Strandir and it is a beautiful discovery, wild, cut up with small beaches, it is worth the trip to Djupavik then return to Hólmavík for the night.
Strandir is the Icelandic name for the east coast of the great Westfjord Peninsula. The name is the plural of the term coast and translates to ribs. For centuries, the region has been one of the most remote areas in Iceland. It was a difficult part to live, limited land to cultivate and difficult movements; this was true even in the 20th century. Oddly enough and due to the rich fishing grounds, Strandir had its share of businesses in the late 19th century and also in the 20th century, although communication was extremely difficult.
- Iceland is earth, wind, fire, water and ice ...
- Iceland, it's high, it's far, but it's beautiful (J.C.)
- Thank you for your passages on views, favorites and comments.
- The Golden circle - Vidéo / Diaporama
- Cliquez ici pour visionner : youtu.be/yOQilaECX10
- South And South East Iceland - Diaporama
- Cliquez ici pour visionner : youtu.be/SYjs_Vb9Jq4
- The East Fjords icedand - Diaporama
- Cliquez ici pour visionner : youtu.be/k8q4bKx7iTE
- The North East & Marina Puffin - Diaporama
- Cliquez ici pour visionner : youtu.be/CZRKTCxkfXA
- The Nord Central Iceland - Geothermal Region - Diaporama
- Cliquez ici pour Visionner : youtu.be/I1uRy_2rKEk
- La région du Lac Mývatn sa faune et flore .
The region of Lake Mývatn its flora and fauna.
3 August 2014 will remain the day the life of the yazedis has changed. Up to 200,000 yazedis people have been displaced from their homes in Sinjar City and the surrounding towns and villages when ISIS arrived by surprise .
The islamist group asked the residents to convert or die...Hundreds of Yazidis were executed as they refused. Most of the people left the village on time, fleeing on foot in the mountains, without nothing and most of the time without water or food , under a 50 degrees temperature. They walked for 7 days, including the babies and the elders. Many were killed, wounded or captured on the way. Now thousands are in Duhok in Kurdistan, and towns like Zoar when they have found a shelter for the winter. Some still have contacts thanks to the mobile phones with the relatives captured or trapped in Sinjar, but many do not have any news of their relatives and fear the worst...Until now, the town od Sinjar is seized by ISIS, where hundreds of Yazidis remain stranded months after fleeing their homes.But Kurdish peshmergas have regained lot of the ground lost to ISIS with the help of the U.S. air strikes. Sinjar is a strategic place as it would put the peshmergas on three sides of Mosul, the largest city under ISIS rule in northern Iraq.
© Eric Lafforgue
Three Palestinian sisters were denied visiting their father in the Ramon Israeli prison for wearing their traditional Muslim dress, called al-niqab. They refused to take their veils off, as this goes against their tradition, and to be inspected by male Israeli officers. One of the sisters had a permit from the Red Crescent Society, but was still refused to see her father. In addition, other family members have been insulted and cursed at by the soldiers in previous visits. Read more here: ift.tt/1ShcE9c - ift.tt/1Vo1S0a
A trip to the rubbish trip and there's always the satisfying crash as you throw your stuff over the edge and into the rubbish hopper.
Things I learnt:
1 - the rubbish containers can hold around 8 - 9 tonnes of rubbish,
2 - they can fill up in as little as four hours, and
3 - the hydraulic ram pushes with a force of around 20 tonnes.
This old storage box had been sitting around at home for ages so time for it to be be thrown out. Good to watch the whole thing drop into the hopper and then being destroyed, the creaking as it slowly succumbs to the pressure in the ram and you can hear it pop.
Spring in New Jersey... When we were at this house on Saturday, it was in the 70s. Today, there was a dusting of snow and icicles hanging from branches and window frames. I was freezing! Looks like we won't be seeing 70 degrees again for at least a week. Winter refuses to leave.
Onondaga County Resource Recovery Agency International 2574 Tractor still hanging tough. www.dailydieseldose.com for more!
There are always people who regret the Packard automobile has gone for good. Or people who hardly can except Packard is history.
But there are also people who refuse to except this fact and take action. Like Roy Gullickson, an engineer and entrepreneur from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, US.
Read the auction description below and be surprised...
This Packard Twelve prototype was designed by former GM stylist Don Johnson with important input from Roy Gullickson and Lawrence Johnson. Development started in Autumn 1993. This prototype was presented in 1999. A yearly production of at least 2000 items was intended but the necessary investments were not found. It remained with this single prototype.
It was finally offered at an auction in 2014.
See also: rmsothebys.com/auctions/sj14/lots/r112-1999-packard-twelv...
Auction description:
573 hp, 525 cu. in. OHV fuel-injected V-12 engine, four-speed GM 4L80E automatic transmission, full-time all-wheel drive, four-wheel independent suspension, and four-wheel power-assisted anti-lock disc brakes. Wheelbase: 119 in.
Some cars have presence, some cars have panache, some cars have prestige, and some cars have all that and more…like Packards. This is what inspired Roy Gullickson, entrepreneur and engineer, to pursue his dream and build the new Packard Twelve.
It began as an idea among friends during a conversation at lunch in 1991. After successfully securing the trademark rights to build a new automobile with the Packard name, concept development began during September and October of 1993. Engineering and styling work was started in January 1994 and continued through to 1996 with Gullickson and Lawrence Johnson, who were both mechanical engineers with automotive experience. The new Packard Motor Car Company and Twelve prototype were first introduced publicly at the 25th anniversary celebration of Arizona Packards in Tuscon in October 1998.
A full-size styling mock-up was developed after consultation with four professional stylists, who included Don Johnson, the former GM stylist who was responsible for the final version of the Zimmer automobile. The sub-structure is an all-aluminum space-frame chassis and body, making extensive use of proprietary high-strength, heat-treated aluminum extrusions. The special aluminum suspension A-frames and knuckles are heat-treated, then X-rayed and dye-penetrant tested to detect any porosity. Anti-squat and anti-dive geometry are included, along with 13.2-inch four-wheel disc brakes. The completed car weighs in at a comparatively light 3,750 pounds.
Power is supplied by a 573 horsepower, 525-cubic inch, all-aluminum OHV V-12. The engine was tested over a five-year period and is equipped with Delco electronic-port fuel injection, dual catalytic converters and oxygen sensors, and Delco powertrain control modules. Full-time all-wheel drive is managed by a Borg Warner transfer case with a viscous clutch and a 35/65 torque split front/rear. A GM 4L80E four-speed electronic-shift automatic transmission was chosen for effortless touring. Performance is quoted at 0–60 mph in 4.8 seconds and the quarter mile in 12.5 seconds.
Inside, you’ll find fine leather upholstery, hand-finished dark walnut veneers with aluminum backing, power front seats, and power windows and locks. Comfort items also include automatic temperature control, full instrumentation, and an AM-FM radio with a CD player and changer.
Included in the purchase of the vehicle are spare parts, such as door glass, suspension knuckles and A-frames, and taillight lenses, along with a list of components with part numbers and suppliers’ names. Historical notes and materials will be provided with the car, as well as many additional photographs and original artwork.
The car is titled under authorization of federal and state laws for “constructed” vehicles, and therefore, it is not EPA or NHTSA certified. It is truly a unique vehicle and the only one built. According to the consignor, there will be no other. He adds that over $1.5 million has been invested in the cost of engineering and building this one-off, modern-day Packard prototype.
This is one time, perhaps, you’ll have to “Ask the Man Who Owns the Only One.”
8603 cc V12 engine.
Performance: 573 bhp.
Production Packard Twelve: 1999.
Without reg. number.
This Packard is part of the Dutch Packard Collection.
Seen on the Dutch Studebaker Packard Club meeting on the occasion of the 25th anniversary of this club.
See also: www.spcn.nl/
Plus: studebakerdriversclub.com/
Bleiswijk, Hoekeindseweg, May 20, 2014.
© 2024 Sander Toonen Halfweg | All Rights Reserved
+++ DISCLAIMER +++Nothing you see here is real, even though the conversion or the presented background story might be based historical facts. BEWARE!
Some background:
The Gudkov Gu-1 was a Soviet fighter aircraft produced shortly after World War II in small numbers at the start of the jet age, but work on the Gudkov Gu-1 already started in 1944. Towards the end of World War II the Soviet Union saw the need for a strategic bombing capability similar to that of the United States Army Air Forces. The Soviet VVS air arm had the locally designed Petlyakov Pe-8 four-engined heavy bomber in service at the start of the war, but only 93 had been built by the end of the war and the type had become obsolete. By that time the U.S. regularly conducted bombing raids on Japan from distant Pacific forward bases using B-29 Superfortresses, and the Soviet Air Force lacked this capability.
Joseph Stalin ordered the development of a comparable bomber, and the U.S. twice refused to supply the Soviet Union with B-29s under Lend Lease. However, on four occasions during 1944, individual B-29s made emergency landings in Soviet territory and one crashed after the crew bailed out. In accordance with the Soviet–Japanese Neutrality Pact, the Soviets were neutral in the Pacific War and the bombers were therefore interned and kept by the Soviets. Despite Soviet neutrality, America demanded the return of the bombers, but the Soviets refused. Three repairable B-29s were flown to Moscow and delivered to the Tupolev OKB. One B-29 was dismantled, the second was used for flight tests and training, and the third one was left as a standard for cross-reference.
Stalin told Tupolev to clone the Superfortress in as short a time as possible. The reverse-engineering effort involved 900 factories and research institutes, who finished the design work during the first year. 105,000 drawings were made, and the American technology had to be adapted to local material and manufacturing standards – and ended in a thorough re-design of the B-29 “under the hood”. By the end of the second year, the Soviet industry was to produce 20 copies of the aircraft ready for State acceptance trials.
While work on what would become the Tupolev Tu-4 was on the way, the need for a long range escort fighter arose, too. Soviet officials were keen on the P-51 Mustang, but, again, the USA denied deliveries, so that an indigenous solution had to be developed. With the rising tension of international relationships, this became eventually the preferred solution, too.
While the design bureau Lavochkin had already started with work on the La-9 fighter (which entered service after WWII) and the jet age was about to begin, the task of designing a long range escort fighter for the Tu-4 was relegated to Mikhail I. Gudkov who had been designing early WWII fighters like the LaGG-1 and -3 together with Lavochkin. Internally, the new fighter received the project handle "DIS" (Dalnij Istrebitel' Soprovozhdenya ="long-range escort fighter").
In order to offer an appropriate range and performance that could engage enemy interceptors in the bombers’ target area it was soon clear that neither a pure jet nor a pure piston-engine fighter was a viable solution – a dilemma the USAAF was trying to solve towards 1945, too. The jet engine alone did not offer sufficient power, and fuel consumption was high, so that the necessary range could never be achieved with an agile fighter. Late war radials had sufficient power and offered good range, but the Soviet designers were certain that the piston engine fighter had no future – especially when fast jet fighters had to be expected over enemy territory.
Another problem arose through the fact that the Soviet Union did not have an indigenous jet engine at hand at all in late 1945. War booty from Germany in the form of Junkers Jumo 004 axial jet engines and blueprints of the more powerful HeS 011 were still under evaluation, and these powerplants alone did neither promise enough range nor power for a long range fighter aircraft. Even for short range fighters their performance was rather limited – even though fighters like the Yak-15 and the MiG-9 were designed around them.
After many layout experiments and calculation, Gudkov eventually came up with a mixed powerplant solution for the DIS project. But unlike the contemporary, relatively light I-250 (also known as MiG-13) interceptor, which added a mechanical compressor with a primitive afterburner (called VRDK) to a Klimov VK-107R inline piston engine, the DIS fighter was equipped with a powerful radial engine and carried a jet booster – similar to the US Navy’s Ryan FR-1 “Fireball”. Unlike the FR-1, though, the DIS kept a conservative tail-sitter layout and was a much bigger aircraft.
The choice for the main powerplant fell on the Shvetsov ASh-82TKF engine, driving a large four blade propeller. This was a boosted version of the same 18 cylinder twin row radial that powered the Tu-4, the ASh-73. The ASh-82TKF for the escort fighter project had a rating of 2,720 hp (2,030 kW) while the Tu-4's ASh-73TK had "only" a temporary 2,400 hp (1,800 kW) output during take-off. The airframe was designed around this massive and powerful engine, and the aircraft’s sheer size was also a result of the large fuel capacity which was necessary to meet the range target of at least 3.000 km (1.860 mi, 1.612 nmi).
The ASh-82TKF alone offered enough power for a decent performance, but in order to take on enemy jet fighters and lighter, more agile propeller-driven fighters, a single RD-20 axial-flow turbojet with 7.8 kN (1,754 lbf) thrust was added in the rear-fuselage. It was to add power for take-off and in combat situations only. Its fixed air intakes were placed on the fuselage flanks, right behind the cockpit, and the jet pipe was placed under the fin and the stabilizers.
Outwardly, Gudkov’s DIS resembled the late American P-47D or the A-1 Skyraider a lot, and the beefy aircraft was comparable in size and weight, too. But the Soviet all-metal aircraft was a completely new construction and featured relatively small and slender laminar flow wings. The wide-track landing gear retracted inwards into the inner wings while the tail wheel retracted fully into a shallow compartment under the jet pipe.
The pilot sat in a spacious cockpit under a frameless bubble canopy with very good all-round visibility and enjoyed amenities for long flights such as increased padding in the seat, armrests, and even a urinal. In addition, a full radio navigation suite was installed for the expected long range duties over long stretches of featureless landscape like the open sea.
Armament consisted of four 23 mm Nudelman-Suranov NS-23 cannons with 100 RPG in the wings, outside of the propeller arc. The guns were good for a weight of fire of 6kg (13.2 lb)/sec, a very good value. Five wet hardpoints under the fuselage, the wings outside of the landing gear well and under the wing tips could primarily carry auxiliary drop tanks or an external ordnance of up to 1.500 kg (3.300 lb).
Alternatively, iron bombs of up to 500 kg (1.100 lb) caliber could be carried on the centerline pylon, and a pair of 250 kg (550 lb) bombs under the wings, but a fighter bomber role was never seriously considered for the highly specialized and complex aircraft.
The first DIS prototype, still without the jet booster, flew in May 1947. The second prototype, with both engines installed, had its fuel capacity increased by an additional 275 l (73 US gal) in an additional fuel tank behind the cockpit. The aircraft was also fitted with larger tires to accommodate the increased all-up weight, esp. with all five 300 l drop tanks fitted for maximum range and endurance.
Flight testing continued until 1948 and the DIS concept proved to be satisfactory, even though the complicated ASh-82TKF hampered the DIS’ reliability - to the point that fitting the ASh-73TK from the Tu-4 was considered for serial production, even if this would have meant a significant reduction in performance. The RD-20 caused lots of trouble, too. Engine reliability was generally poor, and re-starting the engine in flight did not work satisfactorily – a problem that, despite several changes to the starter and ignition system, could never be fully cured. The jet engine’s placement in the tail, together with the small tail wheel, also caused problems because the pilots had to take care that the tail would not aggressively hit the ground upon landings, because the RD-20 and its attachments were easily damaged.
Nevertheless, the DIS basically fulfilled the requested performance specifications and was, despite many shortcomings, eventually cleared for production in mid 1948. It received the official designation Gudkov Gu-1, honoring the engineer behind the aircraft, even though the aircraft was produced by Lavochkin.
The first machines were delivered to VVS units in early 1949 - just in time for the Tu-4's service introduction after the Russians had toiled endlessly on solving several technical problems. In the meantime, jet fighter development had quickly progressed, even though a purely jet-powered escort fighter for the Tu-4 was still out of question. Since the Gu-1 was capricious, complex and expensive to produce, only a limited number left the factories and emphasis was put on the much simpler and more economical Lavochkin La-11 escort fighter, a lightweight evolution of the proven La-9. Both types were regarded as an interim solution until a pure jet escort fighter would be ready for service.
Operationally the Gu-1s remained closely allocated to the VVS’ bomber squadrons and became an integral part of them. Anyway, since the Tu-4 bomber never faced a serious combat situation, so did the Gu-1, which was to guard it on its missions. For instance, both types were not directly involved in the Korean War, and the Gu-1 was primarily concentrated at the NATO borders to Western Europe, since bomber attacks in this theatre would certainly need the heavy fighter’s protection.
The advent of the MiG-15 - especially the improved MiG-15bis with additional fuel capacities and drop tanks, quickly sounded the death knell for the Gu-1 and any other post-WWII piston-engine fighter in Soviet Service. As Tu-4 production ended in the Soviet Union in 1952, so did the Gu-1’s production after only about 150 aircraft. The Tu-4s and their escort fighters were withdrawn in the 1960s, being replaced by more advanced aircraft including the Tupolev Tu-16 jet bomber (starting in 1954) and the Tupolev Tu-95 turboprop bomber (starting in 1956).
The Gudkov Gu-1, receiving the NATO ASCC code “Flout”, remained a pure fighter. Even though it was not a success, some proposals for updates were made - but never carried out. These included pods with unguided S-5 air-to-air-rockets, to be carried on the wing hardpoints, bigger, non-droppable wing tip tanks for even more range or, alternatively, the addition of two pulsejet boosters on the wing tips.
There even was a highly modified mixed powerplant version on the drawing boards in 1952, the Gu-1M. Its standard radial powerplant for cruise flight was enhanced with a new, non-afterburning Mikulin AM-5 axial flow jet engine with 2.270 kgf/5,000 lbf/23 kN additional thrust in the rear fuselage. With this temporary booster, a top speed of up to 850 km/h was expected. But to no avail - the pure jet fighter promised a far better performance and effectiveness, and the Gu-1 remained the only aircraft to exclusively carry the Gudkov name.
General characteristics:
Crew: 1
Length: 12 m (39 ft 4 in)
Wingspan: 14 m (45 ft 11 in)
Height: 4.65 m (15 ft 3 in)
Wing area: 28 m² (301.388 ft²)
Airfoil:
Empty weight: 4,637 kg (10,337 lb)
Loaded weight: 6.450 kg (14.220 lb)
Maximum take-off weight: 7,938 kg (17,500 lb)
Powerplant:
1× Shvetsov ASh-82TKF 18-cylinder air-cooled radial engine, rated at 2,720 hp (2,030 kW)
1x RD-20 axial-flow turbojet with 7.8 kN (1,754 lbf) thrust as temporary booster
Performance
Maximum speed: 676 km/h (420 mph) at 29,000 ft (8,839 m) with the radial only,
800 km/h (497 mph/432 kn,) with additional jet booster
Cruise speed: 440 km/h (237 kn, 273 mph)
Combat radius: 820 nmi (945 mi, 1,520 km)
Maximum range: 3.000 km (1.860 mi, 1.612 nmi) with drop tanks
Service ceiling: 14,680 m (48,170 ft)
Wing loading: 230.4 kg/m² (47.2 lb/ft²)
Power/mass: 0.28 kW/kg (0.17 hp/lb)
Climb to 5,000 m (16,400 ft): 5 min 9 sec;
Climb to 10,000 m (32,800 ft): 17 min 38 sec;
Climb to 13,000 m (42,640 ft): 21 min 03 sec
Armament
4× 23 mm Nudelman-Suranov NS-23 cannons with 100 RPG in the outer wings
Five hardpoints for an external ordnance of 1.500 kg (3.300 lb)
The kit and its assembly:
This whif is the incarnation of a very effective kitbashing combo that already spawned my fictional Japanese Ki-104 fighter, and it is another submission to the 2018 “Cold War” group build at whatifmodelers.com. This purely fictional Soviet escort fighter makes use of my experiences from the first build of this kind, yet with some differences.
The kit is a bashing of various parts and pieces:
· Fuselage, wing roots, landing gear and propeller from an Academy P-47D
· Wings from an Ark Model Supermarine Attacker (ex Novo)
· Tail fin comes from a Heller F-84G
· The stabilizers were taken from an Airfix Ki-46
· Cowling from a Matchbox F6F, mounted and blended onto the P-47 front
· Jet exhaust is the intake of a Matchbox Me 262 engine pod
My choice fell onto the Academy Thunderbolt because it has engraved panel lines, offers the bubble canopy as well as good fit, detail and solid material. The belly duct had simply been sliced off, and the opening later faired over with styrene sheet and putty, so that the P-47’s deep belly would not disappear.
The F6F cowling was chosen because it looks a lot like the ASh-73TK from the Tu-4. But this came at a price: the P-47 cowling is higher, tighter and has a totally different shape. It took serious body sculpting with putty to blend the parts into each other. Inside of the engine, a styrene tube was added for a metal axis that holds the uncuffed OOB P-47 four blade propeller. The P-47’s OOB cockpit tub was retained, too, just the seat received scratched armrests for a more luxurious look.
The Attacker wings were chosen because of their "modern" laminar profile. The Novo kit itself is horrible and primitive, but acceptable for donations. OOB, the Attacker wings had too little span for the big P-47, so I decided to mount the Thunderbolt's OOB wings and cut them at a suitable point: maybe 0.5", just outside of the large main wheel wells. The intersection with the Attacker wings is almost perfect in depth and width, relatively little putty work was necessary in order to blend the parts into each other. I just had to cut out new landing gear wells from the lower halves of the Attacker wings, and with new attachment points the P-47’s complete OOB landing gear could be used.
With the new wing shape, the tail surfaces had to be changed accordingly. The trapezoid stabilizers come from an Airfix Mitsubishi Ki-46, and their shape is a good match. The P-47 fin had to go, since I wanted something bigger and a different silhouette. The fuselage below was modified with a jet exhaust, too. I actually found a leftover F-84G (Heller) tail, complete with the jet pipe and the benefit that it has plausible attachment points for the stabilizers far above the jet engine in the Gu-1’s tail.
However, the F-84 jet pipe’s diameter turned out to be too large, so I went for a smaller but practical alternative, a Junkers Jumo 004 nacelle from a Me 262 (the ancestor of the Soviet RD-20!). Its intake section was cut off, flipped upside down, the fin was glued on top of it and then the new tail was glued to the P-47 fuselage. Some (more serious) body sculpting was necessary to create a more or less harmonious transition between the parts, but it worked.
The plausible placement of the air intakes and their shape was a bit of a challenge. I wanted them to be obvious, but still keep an aerodynamic look. An initial idea had been to keep the P-47’s deep belly and widen the central oil cooler intake under the nose, but I found the idea wacky and a bit pointless, since such a long air duct would not make much sense since it would waste internal space and the long duct’s additional weight would not offer any benefit?
Another idea were air intakes in the wing roots, but these were also turned down since the landing gear wells would be in the way, and placing the ducts above or below the wings would also make no sense. A single ventral scoop (looking like a P-51 radiator bath) or two smaller, dorsal intakes (XP-81 style) behind the cockpit were other serious candidates – but these were both rejected because I wanted to keep a clean side profile.
I eventually settled for very simple, fixed side intakes, level with the jet exhaust, somewhat inspired by the Lavochkin La-200B heavy fighter prototype. The air scoops are simply parts from an Italeri Saab 39 Gripen centerline drop tank (which has a flat, oval diameter), and their shape is IMHO a perfect match.
Painting and markings:
While the model itself is a wild mix of parts with lots of improvisation involved, I wanted to keep the livery rather simple. The most plausible choice would have been an NMF finish, but I rather wanted some paint – so I used Soviet La-9 and -11 as a benchmark and settled for a simple two-tone livery: uniform light grey upper and light blue lower surfaces.
I used RAF Medium Sea Grey (Humbrol 165) and Soviet Underside Blue (Humbrol 114) as basic tones, and, after a black ink wash, these were lightened up through dry-brushed post-shading. The yellow spinner and fin tip are based on typical (subtle) squadron markings of the late 40ies era.
The cockpit as well the engine and landing gear interior became blue-grey (Revell 57), similar to the typical La-9/11’s colors. The green wheel discs and the deep blue propeller blades are not 100% in the aircraft's time frame, but I added these details in order to enhance the Soviet touch and some color accents.
Tactical markings were kept simple, too. The "38" and the Red Stars come form a Mastercraft MiG-15, the Guards badge from a Begemoth MiG-25 sheet and most of the stencils were taken from a Yak-38 sheet, also from Begemoth.
Finally, the kit was sealed with matt acrylic varnish (Italeri) and it received some mild soot stains and chipped paint around the cockpit and on the leading edges. Some oil stains were added around the engine (with Tamiya Smoke), too.
A massive aircraft, and this new use of the P-47/Attacker combo results again in a plausible solution. The added jet engine might appear a bit exotic, but the mixed powerplant concept was en vogue after WWII, but only a few aircraft made it beyond the prototype stage.
While painting the model I also wondered if an all dark blue livery and some USN markings could also have made this creation the Grumman JetCat? With the tall fin, the Gu-1 could also be an F8F Bearcat on steroids? Hmmm...
Her hair is not this bright. I used Envy, but my camera refuses to show the beautiful color that it is.
All credit to Newport City; as well as an all electric bus fleet, they have all electric refuse lorries.
"Allyriadus Sero" is "Zero Emissions".
Jesus, tired from the long walk, sat wearily beside the well about noontime. Soon a Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Please give me a drink.”
The woman was surprised, for Jews refuse to have anything to do with Samaritans. She said to Jesus, “You are a Jew, and I am a Samaritan woman. Why are you asking me for a drink?” Jesus replied, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water.”
"But sir, you don’t have a rope or a bucket,” she said, “and this well is very deep. Where would you get this living water? And besides, do you think you’re greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us this well? How can you offer better water than he and his sons and his animals enjoyed?”
Jesus replied, “Anyone who drinks this water will soon become thirsty again. But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.”
“Please, sir,” the woman said, “give me this water! Then I’ll never be thirsty again, and I won’t have to come here to get water.”
“Go and get your husband,” Jesus told her.
“I don’t have a husband,” the woman replied.
Jesus said, “You’re right! You don’t have a husband—for you have had five husbands, and you aren’t even married to the man you’re living with now. You certainly spoke the truth!”
“Sir,” the woman said, “you must be a prophet.”. . .
“I know the Messiah is coming—the one who is called Christ. When he comes, he will explain everything to us. ”Then Jesus told her, “I Am the Messiah!”....
The woman left her water jar beside the well and ran back to the village, telling everyone, “Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did! Could he possibly be the Messiah?”
{John 4:6 – 7, 9 – 1 9 , 2 5 – 2 6 , 2 8 – 2 9 n l t }
Two Tombstones
I had driven by the place countless times. Daily I passed the small plot of land on the way to my office. Daily I told myself, Someday I need to stop there.
Today, that “someday” came. I convinced a tight-fisted schedule to give me thirty minutes, and I drove in.
The intersection appears no different from any other in San Antoni a Burger King, a Rodeway Inn, a restaurant. But turn northwest, go under the cast-iron sign, and you will find yourself on an island of history that is holding its own against the river of progress.
The name on the sign? Locke Hill Cemetery.
As I parked, a darkened sky threatened rain. A lonely path invited me to walk through the two-hundred-plus tombstones. The fatherly oak trees arched above me, providing a ceiling for the solemn chambers. Tall grass, still wet from the morning dew, brushed my ankles.
The tombstones, though weathered and chipped, were alive with yesterday. Ruhet in herrn accents the markers that bear names like Schmidt, Faustman, Grundmeyer, and Eckert.
Ruth Lacey is buried there. Born in the days of Napoleon—1807.
Died over a century ago —1877.
I stood on the same spot where a mother wept on a cold day some eight decades past. The tombstone read simply, “Baby Boldt—Born and died December 10, 1910.”
Eighteen-year-old Harry Ferguson was laid to rest in 1883 under these words, “Sleep sweetly tired young pilgrim.” I wondered what wearied him so.
Then I saw it. It was chiseled into a tombstone on the northern end of the cemetery. The stone marks the destination of the body of Grace Llewellen Smith. No date of birth is listed, no date of death. Just the names of her two husbands, and this epitaph:
Sleeps, but rests not.
Loved, but was loved not.
Tried to please, but pleased not.
Died as she lived—alone.
Words of futility.
I stared at the marker and wondered about Grace Llewellen Smith. I wondered about her life. I wondered if she’d written the words . . . or just lived them. I wondered if she deserved the pain. I wondered if she was bitter or beaten. I wondered if she was plain. I wondered if she was beautiful.
I wondered why some lives are so fruitful while others are so futile.
I caught myself wondering aloud, “Mrs. Smith, what broke your heart?”
Raindrops smudged my ink as I copied the words.
Loved, but was loved not...
Long nights. Empty beds. Silence. No response to messages left. No return to letters written. No love exchanged for love given.
Tried to please, but pleased not...
I could hear the hatchet of disappointment.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Chop.
“You’ll never amount to anything.” Chop. Chop.
“Why can’t you do anything right?” Chop, chop, chop.
Died as she lived—alone.
How many Grace Llewellen Smiths are there? How many people will die in the loneliness in which they are living? The homeless in Atlanta.
The happy-hour hopper in LA. A bag lady in Miami. The preacher in Nashville. Any person who doubts whether the world needs him. Any person who is convinced that no one really cares.
Any person who has been given a ring, but never a heart; criticism, but never a chance; a bed, but never rest.
These are the victims of futility. And unless someone intervenes, unless something happens, the epitaph of Grace Smith will be theirs.
That’s why the story you are about to read is significant. It’s the story of another tombstone. This time, however, the tombstone doesn’t mark the death of a person—it marks the birth. Her eyes squint against the noonday sun. Her shoulders stoop under the weight of the water jar. Her feet trudge, stirring dust on the path. She keeps her eyes down so she can dodge the stares of the others.
She is a Samaritan; she knows the sting of racism. She is a woman; she’s bumped her head on the ceiling of sexism. She’s been married to five men. Five. Five different marriages. Five different beds. Five different rejections. She knows the sound of slamming doors.
She knows what it means to love and receive no love in return. Her current mate won’t even give her his name. He only gives her a place to sleep.
If there is a Grace Llewellen Smith in the New Testament, it is this woman. The epitaph of insignificance could have been hers. And it would have been, except for an encounter with a stranger.
On this particular day, she came to the well at noon. Why hadn’t she gone in the early morning with the other women? Maybe she had. Maybe she just needed an extra draw of water on a hot day. Or maybe not. Maybe it was the other women she was avoiding. A walk in the hot sun was a small price to pay in order to escape their sharp tongues.
“Here she comes.”
“Have you heard? She’s got a new man!”
“They say she’ll sleep with anyone.”
“Shhh. There she is.”
So she came to the well at noon. She expected silence. She expected solitude.
Instead, she found one who knew her better than she knew herself.
He was seated on the ground: legs outstretched, hands folded, back resting against the well. His eyes were closed. She stopped and looked at him. She looked around. No one was near. She looked back at him. He was obviously Jewish. What was he doing here? His eyes opened and hers ducked in embarrassment. She went quickly about her task.
Sensing her discomfort, Jesus asked her for water. But she was too streetwise to think that all he wanted was a drink. “Since when does an uptown fellow like you ask a girl like me for water?” She wanted to know what he really had in mind. Her intuition was partly correct. He was interested in more than water. He was interested in her heart.
They talked. Who could remember the last time a man had spoken to her with respect?
He told her about a spring of water that would quench not the thirst of the throat, but of the soul.
That intrigued her. “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”
“Go, call your husband and come back.”
Her heart must have sunk. Here was a Jew who didn’t care if she was a Samaritan. Here was a man who didn’t look down on her as a woman.
Here was the closest thing to gentleness she’d ever seen. And now he was asking her about . . . that.
Anything but that. Maybe she considered lying. “Oh, my husband?
He’s busy.” Maybe she wanted to change the subject. Perhaps she wanted to leave—but she stayed. And she told the truth.
“I have no husband.” (Kindness has a way of inviting honesty.)
You probably know the rest of the story. I wish you didn’t. I wish you were hearing it for the first time. For if you were, you’d be wide eyed as you waited to see what Jesus would do next. Why? Because you’ve wanted to do the same thing.
You’ve wanted to take off your mask. You’ve wanted to stop pretending.
You’ve wondered what God would do if you opened your cobweb-covered door of secret sin.
This woman wondered what Jesus would do. She must have wondered if the kindness would cease when the truth was revealed. He will be angry. He will leave. He will think I’m worthless.
If you’ve had the same anxieties, then get out your pencil. You’ll want to underline Jesus’ answer.
“You’re right. You have had five husbands and the man you are with now won’t even give you a name.”
No criticism? No anger? No what-kind-of-mess-have-you-made-of-your- life lectures?
No. It wasn’t perfection that Jesus was seeking, it was honesty.
The woman was amazed.
“I can see that you are a prophet.” Translation? “There is something different about you. Do you mind if I ask you something?”
Then she asked the question that revealed the gaping hole in her soul.
“Where is God? My people say he is on the mountain. Your people say he is in Jerusalem. I don’t know where he is.”
I’d give a thousand sunsets to see the expression on Jesus’ face as he heard those words. Did his eyes water? Did he smile? Did he look up into the clouds and wink at his father? Of all the places to find a hungry heart—Samaria?
Of all the Samaritans to be searching for God—a woman?
Of all the women to have an insatiable appetite for God—a five-time divorcée?
And of all the people to be chosen to personally receive the secret of the ages, an outcast among outcasts? The most “insignificant” person in the region?
Remarkable. Jesus didn’t reveal the secret to King Herod. He didn’t request an audience of the Sanhedrin and tell them the news. It wasn’t within the colonnades of a Roman court that he announced his identity.
No, it was in the shade of a well in a rejected land to an ostracized woman. His eyes must have danced as he whispered the secret.
“I am the Messiah.”
The most important phrase in the chapter is one easily overlooked.
“The woman left her water jar beside the well and ran back to the village, telling everyone, ‘Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did!
Could he possibly be the Messiah?’” ( John 4:28–29 nlt)
Don’t miss the drama of the moment. Look at her eyes, wide with amazement. Listen to her as she struggles for words. “Y-y-y-you a-a-a-are the M-m-m-messiah!” And watch as she scrambles to her feet, takes one last look at this grinning Nazarene, turns and runs right into the burly chest of Peter. She almost falls, regains her balance, and hotfoots it toward her hometown.
Did you notice what she forgot? She forgot her water jar. She left behind the jug that had caused the sag in her shoulders. She left behind the burden she brought.
Suddenly the shame of the tattered romances disappeared. Suddenly the insignificance of her life was swallowed by the significance of the moment. “God is here! God has come! God cares... for me!”
That is why she forgot her water jar. That is why she ran to the city.
That is why she grabbed the first person she saw and announced her discovery, “I just talked to a man who knows everything I ever did . . . and he loves me anyway!”
The disciples offered Jesus some food. He refused it—he was too excited! He had just done what he does best. He had taken a life that was drifting and given it direction.
He was exuberant!
“Look!” he announced to disciples, pointing at the woman who was running to the village. “Vast fields of human souls are ripening all around us, and are ready now for the reaping” ( John 4:35 tlb).
Who could eat at a time like this?
***
For some of you the story of these two women is touching but distant.
You belong. You are needed and you know it. You’ve got more friends than you can visit and more tasks than you can accomplish. Insignificance will not be chiseled on your tombstone.
Be thankful.
But others of you are different. You paused at the epitaph because it was yours. You see the face of Grace Smith when you look into the mirror.
You know why the Samaritan woman was avoiding people. You do the same thing.
You know what it’s like to have no one sit by you at the cafeteria.
You’ve wondered what it would be like to have one good friend. You’ve been in love and you wonder if it is worth the pain to do it again.
And you, too, have wondered where in the world God is.
I have a friend named Joy who teaches underprivileged children in an inner city church. Her class is a lively group of nine-year-olds who love life and aren’t afraid of God. There is one exception, however—a timid girl by the name of Barbara.
Her difficult home life had left her afraid and insecure. For the weeks that my friend was teaching the class, Barbara never spoke. Never. While the other children talked, she sat. While the others sang, she was silent.
While the others giggled, she was quiet.
Always present. Always listening. Always speechless.
Until the day Joy gave a class on heaven. Joy talked about seeing God.
She talked about tearless eyes and deathless lives.
Barbara was fascinated. She wouldn’t release Joy from her stare.
She listened with hunger. Then she raised her hand. “Mrs. Joy?”
Joy was stunned. Barbara had never asked a question. “Yes, Barbara?”
“Is heaven for girls like me?”
Again, I would give a thousand sunsets to have seen Jesus’ face as this tiny prayer reached his throne. For indeed that is what it was—a prayer.
An earnest prayer that a good God in heaven would remember a forgotten soul on earth. A prayer that God’s grace would seep into the cracks and cover one the church let slip through. A prayer to take a life that no one else could use and use it as no one else could.
Not a prayer from a pulpit, but one from a bed in a convalescent home. Not a prayer prayed confidently by a black-robed seminarian, but one whispered fearfully by a recovering alcoholic.
A prayer to do what God does best: take the common and make it spectacular. To once again take the rod and divide the sea. To take a pebble and kill a Goliath. To take water and make sparkling wine. To take a peasant boy’s lunch and feed a multitude. To take mud and restore sight. To take three spikes and a wooden beam and make them the hope of humanity. To take a rejected woman and make her a missionary.
***
There are two graves in this chapter. The first is the lonely one in the Locke Hill Cemetery. The grave of Grace Llewellen Smith. She knew not love. She knew not gratification. She knew only the pain of the chisel as it carved this epitaph into her life.
Sleeps, but rests not.
Loved, but was loved not.
Tried to please, but pleased not.
Died as she lived—alone.
That, however, is not the only grave in this story. The second is near a water well. The tombstone? A water jug. A forgotten water jug.
It has no words, but has great significance—for it is the burial place of insignificance.
2008 Max Lucado from the book Cast of Characters: Common People in the Hands of an Uncommon God
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