I had met Dr. Sam when Ellen and I had flown to the Tri-cities airport in 1966 in order to visit some friends of hers. I had my SSA handbook with me which listed members by state. I looked to see who might be in the area and came across Dr. Sam's info. Although it was a Sunday, I gave him a call and introduced myself. He asked where I was and I told him the airport. His response was that he would be out to meet me within the hour. It was a bit after noon when he arrived and we visited a bit all the while discussing glider flying. He said that he had a Ka-6 and would I help him put it together. Well of course, said I.
Once assembled, he asked me if I had ever flown one to which I replied the highest performance ship I had flown up to that point was a 1-26. Sam offered me his Ka-6 to fly. I was somewhat taken aback and asked him if he was sure he willing to let me to fly his bird. He was indeed, so after a cockpit check and a brief drill on local flying, he said he would tow me aloft and that I was to stay up as long and conditions and my posterior would permit which I did. Dr. Sam Huddleston was generous to a fault and is a classic example of the kind of individuals who are attracted to the sport of soaring.
Getting back to Strawberry Hill and the Phoebus, after rigging it, Dr. Sam asked if I would like to fly yet another of his sailplanes. Well dear reader, you know how that question was answered.
Dr. Sam proceeded with the cockpit check out. Among the things mentioned was that the tow release was attached to the landing gear. I was so enamored with all the fancy instruments (no COSIM vario to be found) that I hardly noticed the whistling noise as a great deal of what the good doctor was telling me was going in one ear and out the other.
Off I went. The Phoebus seemed to have no bad habits. As I towed through two thousand feet I decided to retract the landing gear which seemed to be a bit stiff. After gear up...time to release. I pulled the knob which dribbled out of the console about three inches and dangled there. I was still on tow. Well this is embarrassing, so I tugged on the release, all to no avail. As I pondered the problem, the light slowly illuminated. I was glad to know that I was alone in the cockpit with no one there to see my blush of embarrassment. I lowered the gear and the release cable with attached knob retracted its self into the instrument panel and so when I reached three thousand feet and pulled the release device, it worked. Nice going dumy!