As time passes you reflect on your life. The good, the bad and the ugly. This past May I drove six hours to Statesboro Ga., set my ship on the water and ran one good sortie shooting it out with Marty Hayes. Wow, it had been twenty years in-between he and I battling. Second sortie I made one loop and went dead before we ever got started. Marty pushed me in and that was it for my battling. I spent the day watching others and loving it. I got to relax doing something I love with people I like and respect. I thought of Bart Purvis that day. I thought back to the day I watched a man react with dignity and grace when everything was not going his way. The following is a life lesson I have cherished concerning a man I still wish I could have known even better, but could not have respected more…
Every spring and fall for years we gathered in Springfield, Mo to battle, hosted by Steve (Swampy) Millholland. Turnout was never an issue. James and Jamie Foster, Dirty Dave, Chris 'The Commodore' Pierce, The Awe Brothers, that snarky guy I never liked with the hair, Curly Berret and Larry Dahl and Bart (Doc) Purvis… Along with a host of others. David Wilson had his beautiful scratch-built
Manchester there. It was beautiful because I had spent the day before building all the superstructure and Dave the ships guts. We built it from parts, a hull, and decks in a day and a half. He and I worked on it all night, got about two hours sleep and drove six hours directly to the battle site. Everyone was bowled over by the
Lutzow Keven Bray built with 550 motors to give him a big pump in a cruiser. My
Houston had its first electronic speed control and I was happy at my better turning at 75% throttle.
I remember Bart coming out, setting up that easel-like device he used to hold his ship and well, everything else. As he passed with his chair and slipping on his hat he said, “Hey my good man, I want to show you something unique.” Now Bart and I had corresponded by US post as to the building of ships for about a year. He suggested a computer and e-mail may speed things up so I got my first one expressly for the hobby. It was Bart, Rick Whitesell and Swampy that guided me threw building my first ship. As we approached I could see Bart’s venerable
Atlanta was sitting high atop it’s perch with brand new experimental decks, All G-10. “
They use this stuff to reinforce satellites… It’s tough, don’t go at it with power tools” he said. We had talked back and forth about it and now he could show it off. He took out a pair of scissors. “
The best and most recommended way to cut this stuff is with scissors then sand it. But let me warn you now it will eat the teeth off a scroll saw.” He said with his usual big smile. This I found a month later was not at all exaggerated…
It was early the next morning when Dave and I arrived at the Waffle House near our hotel. The sleep had healed us from the days leading up. We only battled half the day before. Dave’s ship had a drive problem we had not anticipated in our rush to make the event and we were getting snippy with each other by midday. So it was decided one good battle was enough after being up and going for thirty hours. A good sleep fixed all. Well pliers fixed his drive but the sleep fixed us. Most everyone had eaten and now sipped coffee and held court. Tall talk and stories of 1/96th scale and exploding ships in the freon days filled the air. People talked about solenoids and why cruisers should be moved up to 23 sec. The
Bismarck needing more units and why a
Yamato could never be a winning ship. We finished up and all headed out chatting of the day to come. Bart was talking to someone over his shoulder and digging in the back of his truck when David and I came out. “
You good to go Bart?” I called out as we got in my little Escort wagon. “
Yep, see ya there.” Flashing that smile… Now as you pulled out to the right there was a set of stop lights and the traffic caught us all. Bart and a couple others slipped into the right lane but I and another car went out to the left lane to make room. We all got caught up in the traffic lights and construction along the highway.
Dave was nursing his coffee as the green light freed us from traffic purgatory to make a seven mph. dash to the next light behind a loaded down dump truck. But there was some issue in the other lane nearly from go. Everyone got started ok but there was now some sort of calamity. Brake lights and people pulling to the side. I had seen something up ahead in the right lane that looked to be a baseball bat or stick bouncing between cars on the road but could not make it out. As we started catching up Dave Wilson spoke. “
I think that’s Bart’s ship.” “
What's Bart’s ship?” I asked looking. “
I think Bart’s ship fell out of his truck.” I looked at traffic creeping along. “
Na.. I think he ran over something with the construction up ahead.” I replied hoping Bart did not have a flat. I could not get over if he did. I thought if it was a flat as slow as we were going Dave could get out and I could circle back. “
Nope… That’s Bart getting out and that’s his ship… Wobbling about on the ground.” Dave said as we passed the unthinkable. I could clearly see the
Atlanta being scooped up from the asphalt. Bart was out of the little red truck and thankfully there were other faces with him I recognized but can’t recall now. “
Should we try to go back?” Dave asked. We drove on. Later at the Old Mill pond it was all the chatter: Bart’s ship launching out the back of the truck like a Tomahawk missile, slashing its way into the radiator of the car behind it only to have the co2 bottle explode and frag a passing bus load of state prisoners that were now loose and rampaging across the city on the run. Soon Bart was on scene and setting up. A gaggle of onlookers hovering about. Some helping and others... well I said I never liked that one snarky fella. After a bit everyone got to their own ships and Bart was going at his props with pliers and a soldering iron. This caused me some trepidation at the time. It was like watching someone getting their teeth pulled... on an easel-like thing... by some pond in the woods... by some guy in a hat! The idea of it all was like a Jackson Pollok painting come alive. You can see now how that’s funny knowing Bart’s trade as a dentist, but in that moment the irony was lost on me. Everyone had offered tools, torches, power converters with soldering irons but Bart was on it. Never losing his sense of humor. “
I was thinking the entire time I was forgetting something. “ Quick smile and back to work.
After much bending and testing and hitting things back into shape atop the ship’s standing dry-dock Bart hit the power switch. Motors revving and rudders shifting from side to side. The singing of servos and a humming pump. “
Well fellas… Let’s see what we see.” Bart scooped her up, walked down to the pond and unceremoniously tossed the ship onto the water. She listed hard to one side as Bart took her threw her paces. He ran her to shore, reached down and shook the ship roughly from side to side. It stood up strait. That’s when it happened. Like a thunder clap when you never saw the lighting. I do not remember the originator. May have been me or the snarky fella but that day a legend was birthed into the cosmos. Cast into being effortlessly from the lips of a smart aleck. Splitting the cool, damp air like that first shot at Ft. Sumter. In a singular moment of profound smart “A__” wisdom someone said. “
Well what do you know… It lives!!! The USS Road Kill, everyone!!!”
There was that moment of quiet. We all recognized the profound wisdom. The perfection of timing and situation that led to this moment. This was when someone snorted and everyone laughed. Not a little but full on hilarity over took us all. And Bart most of all. I like to think the snort was his. And ya know, I will continue to. Even a man of dignity can have a little snort.
The definition of a gentleman is a chivalrous, courteous, honorable man. I have had the great honor in my life of knowing a small number of such good men. One in our hobby stands out to me. A mentor and a friend but above all a true gentleman.
Lovingly recalled by me… David Evans
