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JAMES SAMUEL SIMON, JR. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
By: son, James Simon III
James S. Simon, Jr. was born March 1, 1924 in Chanute, KS to
James Samuel Simon and Audree Mae (Ellis) Simon. He had an older sister named
June, and a younger sister named Betty Lee.
His father worked for the Missouri-Pacific (or Mo-Pac) Railroad. About 1937, the
Mo-Pac moved his father and family to Osawatomie, KS. It was while living in
Osawatomie that he met Laura May Biggerstaffthe girl he would marry in 1944.
Mom and Dad had three or four mutual friends in Osawatomie named "Jim or
"Jimmy. To avoid confusion as to which "Jim she was talking about, Mom
always referred to my dad as "Simon. Even after they were married, she
continued to call him "Simon for the rest of his life. Though he never
lived to see it, he has a great grandson named Simon Cooper in his honor.
Dad had a reputation for causing mischief at Osawatomie High School. Though most
details are murky, I know that he and a friend once placed a fully grown cow in
an upstairs classroom of Osawatomie High School.
He and his future wife both graduated from Osawatomie High School in the Class
of 1942.
Following graduation from high school, Dad briefly worked for the
Missouri-Pacific Railroad as an apprentice machinist until deciding to enter the
Army Air Corps.
He joined the Army Air Corps in early 1943 as an Aviation Cadet and was sent to
Little Rock, Arkansas (I think he was in Class 44-D). I believe the training
included flying the PT-19 and perhaps a few other early basic training aircraft.
He received his wings and commission as a second lieutenant in Little Rock on
April 15, 1944.
Following his graduation from the Aviation Cadets, Mom took a train from
Osawatomie, KS to Little Rock, AR. They were married on April 21, 1944 in the
First Presbyterian Church of North Little Rock, Arkansas. I have a copy of their
wedding photo. In that photo, Mom is wearing the pair of wings Dad received when
he graduated from the Aviation Cadets. He was quite poor in those days and
couldn't afford an engagement ring. The wings were his engagement gift to my
mother.
He then attended advanced single engine training at Aloe Army Air Force Base
near Victoria, TX. I'm not certain of all the aspects of the training, but I
believe a lot of the flying time was spent in the AT-6. He may have also logged
a few hours in the P-40.
Dad's next assignment was to the Instructor Pilot School at Bryan, TX. After
graduating from the school he was assigned as an Instructor Pilot (I think to
Kelly Field near San Antonio, TX or Shreveport, LA).
Following the end of World War II, he was sent to Chitose AFB on the northern
island of Hokkaido in Japan as a member of the US Occupation Forces. He was
assigned to the 49th Fighter Group and flew the P-51. About 18 months later, the
49th Fighter Wing moved south and relocated to Misawa AFB on the main Japanese
island of Honshu. While with the 49th Fighter Group, he was assigned to both the
7th and 8th Fighter Squadrons.
His first child, James S. Simon III, was born while he and Laura May were living
at Misawa AFB in Japan.
Upon his return to the United States in the summer of 1949, he was assigned to
the jet aircraft transition school at Williams AFB, near Phoenix, AZ.
Following jet transition, from about 1950 to 1953, he was based in Wichita, KS
at what would later be called McConnell AFB. I believe he flew the P-80 during
this assignment. His second child, Gregory H. Simon was born while the family
lived in Wichita.
From about 1953 to 1955 he was assigned to the 62nd FIS at O'Hare AFB, IL
followed by an assignment to the 456th FIS (flying F-86's) at Truax AFB near
Madison, WI. Wisconsin was a hunter's paradise, and I remember Dad hunting both
deer and pheasant with other squadron members while we lived there.
During the years 1955 to 1958 he was assigned to the 25th FIS at Naha AFB,
Okinawa flying the F-86D. It was while we lived on Okinawa that I first remember
meeting the Slater family. I'm not sure if Dad knew Slater before Okinawa, but I
know that he maintained a close association with Col. Slater after Okinawa for
the rest of his life.
If I may be permitted, I'd like to share a personal experience that gives a
glimpse into his personal character. As a young boy on Okinawa, I can remember
Dad teaching me to play baseball. We would play catch in the front yard after he
came home from work. He came to nearly all of my Little League games and was
always supportive. It didn't matter if I struck out or got a base hit, Dad was
always encouraging. Most of the other kid's parents seldom (if ever) came to a
game. If he was on the island, he was there. He was never loud or coarse, never
second-guessed the coach or demeaned the umpire, and never criticized the way I
played. More than 50 years later, and with the insight that comes from having
raised my own children, I realize how blessed I was to have him as my dad.
The family returned to the United States in 1958 when Dad was assigned to the
75th FIS at Presque Isle AFB, ME flying the F-89. The following year, the 75th
moved from Presque Isle AFB to Dow AFB near Bangor, ME and transitioned from
F-89's to the F-101 Voodoo. Dad had the honor of flying the first F-101 to the
squadron from the McDonnell Douglas factory in St. Louis.
The summer of 1960 found the family in Montgomery, AL while Dad attended Air
Command and Staff College at Maxwell AFB.
In 1961, following his graduation from Command and Staff, he was transferred to
the Interceptor Weapons School at Tyndall AFB, FL as the Director of Tactical
Programs and Development and flew the F-102. This was one of the more enjoyable
assignments for Dad. We lived in base housing right next to the Gulf of Mexico.
Nearly everyone in his squadron owned a boat, so fishing and camping expeditions
in the environs of Tyndall were frequent and enjoyable.
Dad worked for Col. (then Lt. Col.) Slater at IWS and I believe each held the
other in high personal, as well as professional, regard. I can remember several
fishing and camping expeditions the family made with the Slaters. Dad and Col.
Slater had a healthy ongoing rivalry as to who would catch the most fish,
biggest fish, etc.
It was also during this time that the Cuban Missile Crisis occurred. During the
crisis, Dad commanded an F-102 unit that was deployed from Tyndall AFB to
MacDill AFB in southern Florida. The unit called themselves "Simon's
Marauders and everyone wore a baseball cap with that logo on it. They lived in
tents next to the planes and operated out of temporary shelters. I remember the
day the unit leftDad told Mom to watch President Kennedy's speech on TV that
night. He said the speech would explain why he had to leave, and that he
wouldn't be able to come home for a while. We didn't find out he was deployed to
MacDill until about six weeks later when the crisis ended. I have since heard
the unit flew a lot of sorties out of MacDill during the crisis, but Dad never
spoke much about it.
In the summer of 1963 Dad was transferred to Pacific Air Force (PacAF)
Headquarters at Hickam AFB in Honolulu, HI. I don't think he especially enjoyed
the headquarters assignment to PacAF. I can remember him only half-jokingly
describing a PacAF haircut as one in which "every hair was going in a
different direction. While working at PacAF, however, he did manage to get
himself attached to the Hawaiian Air National Guard as both an Instructor Pilot
and Check Pilot in the F-102. I remember Mom saying that the Hawaiian ANG hadn't
done too well in some of their recent evaluations and that after Dad started
training and flying with them things improved quite a bit. She also told me that
just before Dad left Hawaii, the Guard unit tried to recruit him as a full time
member. Dad politely declined as by then he had been assigned to work on Project
Oxcart.
In the summer of 1966, he moved the family to Las Vegas, NV and began working in
Area 51 as a member of the 1129th Special Activities Squadron on Project Oxcart.
His youngest son, Scott C. Simon was born in Las Vegas in June of 1967.
On September 26, 1967 he died when the F-101 he was piloting as a chase aircraft
for an A-12 impacted the ground during a night sortie in Area 51. He lies at
rest in Arlington National Cemetery. Laura May Simon, his widow, never remarried
and remained in the house they shared in Las Vegas until her death on July 3,
2006.
Editor's note: This brief biographical sketch of Lt. Col. Simon was provided by
his eldest son in September of 2007 - some 40 years following his death. Many of
the dates have been recalled from memory more than 50 years after the fact and
some of the above events took place before my birth. Please forgive me if I've
missed a date by a year or so.
THE ACCIDENT
By: Harold Burgeson
On 27 September 1967 Jack Layton and I were flying # 124 on a
night navigational mission. Jack was in the front cockpit and I was in the rear.
I was the instructor pilot and we used my call sign (Dutch 12). Jim Simon was
the chase pilot in F-101B (56-0286). After we were safely airborne and all
systems checked normal he flew in the local area to await our return, as was
customary.
After we completed our mission we returned to base and Jack started an
instrument letdown for a full stop landing. During the letdown I called the
chase and told him that we were back in the area, had no problems and would be
landing shortly. Jim asked for our position and I gave it to him again stating
that all systems were normal and that we did not need assistance. He responded
that he would at least like to find us.
We turned on final approach and received clearance for a full stop landing. You
can't see the wings or engines from the cockpit of an A-12. On short final there
was a sudden explosion off our right wing. We saw the flash and felt the
concussion. Jack instinctively stop cocked the right engine, lit the left AB,
and said "Burgie be ready to bail out. I replied "that wasn't us Jack,
it had to be the chase, if you will keep this thing flying straight (there was
quite a yaw with the left AB going) I will restart the right engine. I got the
engine started and we circled for landing. We avoided looking at the fire as we
approached the runway and Jack made a nice smooth landing. Up until we called
for landing clearance the tower operators thought it was our aircraft that
crashed.
What caused the crash is something we will never know for sure. What we do know
is that joining up with a dark, unlit airplane on a dark night at final approach
airspeed is not a "piece of cake The aircraft contacted the ground in a
flat attitude near the South Trim Pad of the Groom Lake landing strip, which
could indicate that Jim got a little low and flew into the ground. We can
speculate that he might have overshot a little and dropped down for clearance or
that he was distracted by something in the cockpit such as a warning light but
speculation really serves no useful purpose. In any case that night we lost a
fine officer, an excellent pilot and a good friend.
Harold Burgeson
Simon left a wife and 3 sons.
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Son Scott Christopher Simon being fed by Debbie Roussell,
daughter of Dick Roussell who flew the F-101 at Area 51 with Scott's father,
Jim Simon.
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