June 15th, 2010

In mid June 2010, grandson on passenger Cyril McDonald, Phil Watt of Darwin, Australia, made the trek to Kings Mountain to visit the impact point of VH-BPE.  As he emerged from the deep canyon, he 'stumbled' upon the memorial plague placed in memory of the passengers and crew, not knowing of its existence beforehand.  He felt that this was the time to place a small Australian flag in front of the sand stone & granite monument, a salute to his relative and all others aboard RESOLUTION, fifty seven years past . 'Twas a fitting gesture'.

October 29th, 2009

The 56th anniversary of the disaster of VH-BPE, the crash of DC-6 " Resolution" on Kings Mountain in 1953,  was remembered  with a poignant visit to the plane's memorial  by Grant (Chips) Tischler, visiting from Australia, son of passenger Bernard Tischler,  representatives of MROSD, Rick Perry & David (Sango) Sanguinetti along with Christopher O'Donnell, founder of the " Flight of the Resolution Project" . Although this was a respectful & quiet gathering for those involved, the day was not a sad meeting but one of a sense of accomplishment and reverence with Mr. Tischler viewing his father's memorial  of the permanent granite plaque remembering souls  long forgotten no longer !   Leaving for home in Queensland, Australia, Grant announced plans  for overseeing a display recalling " RESOLUTION" at a museum near his home there, long overdue from the aircraft's origin.

(L-R) Rick Perry- Chose the local sandstone and mounted the plaque David Sanguinetti- Chose the location Grant Tischler Christopher O'Donnell Hands across the ocean Grant and Christopher in a symbolic gesture that marks the final chapter in the " Resolution" project, well maybe not! A final quiet reflection by Grant

June 27th, 2009... On a spectacular day a  fitting tribute

...'twas a warm morning on Kings Mountain....sun dappling the trail leading to a gathering of persons brought together with  a common remembrance in mind...the crash of BCPA Flight 304, a DC6B nosing into the ridge, killing all 19 aboard on fog shrouded October 29, 1953. Finally ,a handsome granite plaque, laser etched with a photo of the Douglas craft, flags of USA and Australia, along with each individuals name, mounted on sandstone, was unveiled and ribbon cut ....a moment of high revere for those long forgotten  but no longer forgotten.   Christopher O'Donnell, for six years has been driven to produce this day and all it entailed, stepped to the podium and stood quietly..for many moments, intriguing the guests...and opened his comments with  " I like cats...I love cats !" ...puzzled faces and a chuckle or two from those gathered..." My cat Tim scratches to be let out at 3 am...not knowing it disrupts my peace...he meows to be let in...again not realizing for one moment that he wakes me again and 'upsets' me...he just knows that he get what he wants...and so I 'scratched at doors' and probably upset some folk, but I did not know any better and  eventually I got what I wanted...at all times  with due respect to those I approached with innocence....and thus the plaque was placed where it should have been all along...Kings Mountain!"   A noble deed, indeed! An accomplishment achieved by a simple 'tip of the hat ' from some, to a check of three figures from others.   All present, and some not, can be proud of this permanent marker now standing as a sentinel in the woods, silent in memory of the RESOLUTION."   Donors, relatives and others of interest to this catastrophe (the worst air disaster in the history of San Mateo County) now took the time to admire the memorial and chat amongst themselves of  their poignant connection to this event, while enjoying scrumptious food and  beverages supplied gratis by the organizers of the day, the Midpeninsula Regional Open Space District.  It was a day to remember ! Truly !!  You are invited to hike to the con-flux of the Fir and Resolution trails, just below the newly cleared Vista Point.  Park at CalTrans lot known as Skeggs Point on Skyline Blvd.  Click onto the web site of MROSD for more details or chat with Christopher at vhbpe@yahoo.com.  Soon to go dark, web site flightoftheresolution.org kept the project alive...do visit...and a Wikipedia listing at BCPA Flight 304, and William Kapell, world famous pianist of the day, a passenger.

A tireless 5  year effort is on final approach

The passengers on flight 304, a BCPA DC-6 bound for San Francisco in October 1953 had no inkling of their upcoming fate that foggy morning.   And for five years, the Resolution committee, lead by Christopher O'Donnell, has waged a quiet effort to commemorate this tragic event and give it the recognition it is due to honor the passengers and crew, also without a clear view of the final outcome.

History is once again coming to a resolution.   On Wednesday January 28th, at the regular meeting of the Board of Directors for MROSD, by a vote of 6-0, the final approval was obtained  to place the plaque donated by the Native Sons of the Golden West at the entrance to the Methuselah trail.   Christopher was joined by Linda Suffion and Mark Zborowski to sketch out the journey that started in 1953, thousands of miles away in the Southern Hemisphere and has now come to rest in peace.   The board was very supportive and we thank all the members for their vote that realizes a 'Noble Quest' that started with someone asking " why" and then acting on it.  

A plaque, at last, to remember victims of '53 airliner plane crash

By Patrick May, Mercury News- Posted 12/04/2008 (All pictures courtesy of San Jose Mercury News)

  For more than five years, Half Moon Bay aviation buff Christopher O'Donnell has waged a lonely campaign to have a plaque erected at the site of San Mateo County's deadliest plane crash, its residue still scattered about the redwood-laced ravines after more than half a century.   This week, O'Donnell's efforts took a huge leap forward, as officials at the Midpeninsula Regional Open Space District recommended installing the plaque at a trailhead off Skyline Boulevard that leads to the crash site.   " I'm still in shock," said the Australian-born O'Donnell, fascinated by the ill-fated flight of the passenger plane Resolution, which claimed the lives of all 19 people on board when it crashed in the fog on final approach to the San Francisco airport. " Five and a half years of being told by people to disappear, now welcomed with open arms " ... I'm beyond happy, I'm ecstatic!"  

Administrators at the district, a government agency that acquires land for public open space from San Carlos to Los Gatos, had formally resisted the idea of erecting a marker on district property. But this week, the public affairs committee recommended that the full board approve the plaque.   " We're glad to honor the victims of the worst air disaster in San Mateo County history this way," district spokesman Rudy Jurgensen said Thursday. " We think it's a good solution that fulfills the wishes" of those hoping to acknowledge the victims as well as the guardians trying to protect the preserve.

O'Donnell said the agreement calls for the 45-pound, 24-by-18-inch granite plaque, etched with the names of the passengers and crew and a picture of the plane, to be placed on a large stone at the entrance to the Methuselah Trail, which leads after a two-hour hike to the crash site on Resolution Trail. Security was one reason for placing the plaque on the road, where park rangers can protect it from vandals.

GrantTischler, who had traveled from Australia in October to visit the site where his father, Bernard, had died in the crash, said the plaque's approval " means full closure for me."   " I think about my father every day and I know he's up there smiling to think that everything has finally come full circle," he said by phone from Queensland.   Perhaps more than anything, the news represents an exquisite vindication for O'Donnell, who has fought tirelessly to publicize the doomed British Commonwealth Pacific Airlines DC6 Flight 304 and those who lost their lives the morning of Oct. 29, 1953.   In a congratulatory e-mail, Tischler, who goes by the nickname " Chips," was so moved by the payoff for O'Donnell's dedication that he was unable to complete his thoughts.    " On behalf of myself and all the Tischler family, thank you so much," he wrote. " I'm going to close now because I'm getting emotional and the tears are starting to flow. Cheers for now MATE. Chips."

Contact Patrick May at pmay@mercurynews.com or (408) 920-5689.

Australian visits site of Peninsula plane crash to mourn dad he never knew

By Patrick May, Mercury News- Posted 10/29/2008

Rounding the elbow of a narrow mountain trail in San Mateo County on Wednesday morning, Grant Tischler caught a glimpse of the twisted aluminum in the ravine, dropped his hiking stick, then began to sob as he collapsed in the dirt.   This was, after all, sacred ground. It was on this steep hillside that his dad, Bernard, died exactly 55 years ago when an Australian passenger plane named Resolution lost its way in the fog on final approach to the San Francisco Airport, smashing into the thick weave of redwood and blood-red madrone and killing all 19 on board. Investigators estimated that from the moment it hit the trees to its final point of impact, Flight 304 continued on for another seven seconds.   " I'm counting seven seconds in my head, and it's an eternity," said Tischler, picking up a charred piece of the DC-6 from the scattered debris. " All of them " ... going through that. If the plane had been just a few hundred feet higher, I might still have my father with me today."

A troubling secret

He couldn't have known it at the time, but Grant Tischler's journey to this redwood sanctuary really began 65 years ago, in the southeastern corner of Australia where he was born in 1943. He never knew his biological father, Bernard. And he would only learn about him years after his dad had perished.   Bernard Tischler was a sailor in the Australian navy who had come home on leave in 1942 after his ship was sunk at Guadalcanal. " That's when he and my mother got together and from that liaison,'' said Grant, " little ol' me was born."   But the family refused to allow the 18-year-old girl to marry the sailor. His love denied, Bernard left to rejoin the war. And in 1948 when Grant was 5, he and his mother moved to the town of Mildura where she married Ray Carpenter, who quickly adopted the boy. " I grew up thinking Ray was my real dad," he said. " I had my suspicions as I got older, but nobody ever told me anything."   Years later, Grant would learn about his biological father and how he " had come home after the war looking to get back with my mom. But by then, she was already married to someone else, and it was too late."

An unmarked site

Wednesday morning, Tischler arrived early at the trail head for a trek he hoped would lead not only to his father's resting place, but to some emotional resolution for a life tormented by secrets and suspicions. He had come from Australia just for this hike, and was joined by Christopher O'Donnell, an Australian-born aviation buff from Half Moon Bay who has waged a tireless campaign to place a granite memorial at the crash site. For decades, aviation sleuths and the occasional hiker have come here to pick through the debris of San Mateo County's worst aviation accident ever. One of its passengers was the renowned American pianist William Kapell, who was returning from a concert tour of Australia.  

" I've got a plaque and I want to find a home for it," O'Donnell said. " But the Midpeninsula Regional Open Space District which owns the land won't allow anything placed at the site. They just want us to go away."

Worse, said Tischler, his dad's family back home all assumed a plaque had been erected years ago. He didn't have the heart to tell them it wasn't so.   But in a significant turnaround this week, district spokesman Rudy Jurgensen said " we're now willing to take another look at this, though we'd want to erect something that's more interpretive in nature in addition to a memorial. It's not a done deal, but we're looking at it."   As they headed up the trail, two hours through a steep, winding thicket of towering redwoods and plunging gulleys, O'Donnell and Tischler were heartened. Perhaps there would soon be resolution for the son — and maybe some good news to take back to the people his father had left behind.

A wedding photo

Grant Tischler worked in the gas industry and raised two daughters. He was 38 when he stumbled upon the key to his true identity that everyone had kept from him so long. He was visiting his grandmother when he noticed a wedding photo of his mom and Ray Carpenter on the wall. He'd seen it before, but this time his eye caught something in the corner of the frame.   " There was a small embossed logo of a photo studio," he said. " And lightly penciled in was 1948. I asked my grandmother, " Isn't this a photo of my mom and dad on their wedding day? " She said, 'Yeah.'   " Well, this says 1948, but I was born in 1943. Is there anything you want to tell me?'   " She hemmed and hawed, then she told me the story."   The wartime leave. The grandfather's resistance to his daughter's marriage. The move to Mildura. And the decades of deception that followed.   " Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place," Tischler said. " I had always realized I didn't look like anybody in the family, but I had just shrugged it off. But there were strange things that went on. I'd ring up home after I'd left, dad would chat a bit, then yell to my mom 'Alice, your son's on the phone.' Not 'our son,' but 'your son.'   " Still, I kept my suspicions to myself."   But the whole story had not been told — because his grandmother didn't know it.

One day, Grant took his mother aside. " I asked 'Is he alive?' and she said, 'No, he was killed in an airplane accident in America.' " But no one on her side of the family knew the specific details.   Grant then asked: Was Bernard the man she had really wanted to marry?   " She told me 'I've only loved two men in my life. Ray was one — and your father was the other.' "

A familiar face

Life for Grant Tischler would go on. But it was a life entangled in a snarl of loose ends.   After Grant implored his mother for a photo of his father, she finally mailed him one she had hidden for years behind her wedding photo with Ray Carpenter, tucked away beneath her bed. Standing in the middle of the post office that day, Grant took one look at the picture and burst into tears.   " I looked at my dad and realized, 'I've been shaving that same face for years. I just cried and cried.'"   Yet that one lingering question tormented him: How had his father died? Grant tracked down his dad's sister, who gave him a press clipping about the crash. He found two half-brothers, from Bernard's eventual marriage to another woman. But beyond the weathered newspaper article, his father's death remained shrouded in mystery.   " No one knew much about the plane crash at all, and so I sat on that for many, many years. That's part of the reason that I've had a lot of demons in my life."   After his adoptive dad died in 2007, Grant changed his last name to Tischler. Then last November, a breakthrough: one of his brothers had come across O'Donnell's Web site, full of articles and photos about the doomed British Commonwealth Pacific Airlines flight. His father had been on his way to England to learn the travel agent business. Grant realized he had no choice — he had to come to America to finally find the father he never knew.

A distant drone

As he surveyed the rusting debris around him, Grant said, " I've come full circle, because I know in my own heart that dad would have wanted me to come up here and finally get closure.   " He was only 31 when he died, and I think in the back of his mind he must have thought, 'I have a son out there somewhere, a son I can't contact.' And I think that hurt him. Just like it has hurt me."   Sitting quietly beside the trail, Tischler slowly regained his composure. " I do feel a little more peace now, for me and for my dad. But I first had to see with my own eyes this place where he died."   And in that place, just before noon, as a butterfly flitted above the Resolution's pockmarked skin of rust and rivets, the pin-drop silence was gently interrupted. It was the distant drone of an airplane, maybe coming in for a landing at San Francisco International Airport, maybe heading out over the Pacific. But it was impossible to know for sure.

Contact Patrick May at pmay@mercurynews.com or 408-920-5689.