Frank Erickson—Coast Guard pioneer of helicopter flight 80 years ago!
Blizzard skies, grounded planes—yet a lone rotor lifted off with lifesaving plasma, igniting a revolution in rescue born of one officer’s relentless push against doubters.
Blizzard skies, grounded planes—yet a lone rotor lifted off with lifesaving plasma, igniting a revolution in rescue born of one officer’s relentless push against doubters.
A wrench for a weapon. Haze, shellfire, and the first air‑sea clash in home waters—told through a daring low‑level attack that sent a marauding U‑boat diving for its life.
Just past midnight on Dec. 24, 1955, a levee on California’s Feather River collapsed releasing a 21-foot wall of water into Yuba City and surrounding farmlands. As the flood victims huddled on rooftops and clung to tree branches, they could hear in the distance the throbbing noise of a Coast Guard helicopter coming to their rescue.
Winter darkness. Reindeer sleds. A 1,500-mile push over sea ice and tundra to reach ice-locked whalers—led by a tireless frontier physician whose care, grit, and camera preserved a rescue for the ages.
Kate began assisting her father with tasks around the station as a small child. By age 12, she had assumed all the duties her father could not accomplish due to his physical limitations and was, for all practical purposes, the lighthouse keeper.