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U. S. Team:
84-86-88-90-92-94-96
Women's Team Gold 1988
Unknown First 1988
A/C: Texas Hurricane
True Grit. Hang around Debby Rihn-Harvey for a while and the phrase will inevitably come to mind. Debby's no spring chicken, and the water that has passed under the bridge has left her with an air of worldly can-do optimism tinged by the inevitable hard knocks of a pioneer life. Maybe its that she lives in Texas, I don't know, but there is something about the woman that brings to mind John Wayne's sister. She is as straightforward and unpretentious as the day is long, and her story is easy to overlook among the more flashy members of the 1996 U. S. Aerobatic team. But if you take the time to look, what you see is what you get. And what you get is a lady with a lot of experience at world competition, a hell of a homemade airplane and the deft touch to guide it around the box like few pilots on the planet. This one's a keeper, as we used to say back home.
Jim Koepnick/EAA
A native of Omaha, Nebraska, Debby Rihn is as plain American as you can get. Second only to Linda Meyers in experience at World Competition, Rihn-Harvey has been on the United States team for every WAC since 1984. For that matter, she is a third generation pilot, having learned to fly from her father at age 13. By now she has 14,000 hours of flight time logged and a wallet full of ratings. She is a Captain with Southwest airlines and owner/manager of Harvey and Rihn aviation in LaPorte, Texas. In her spare time she is on the United States Aerobatic team, and flies a few airshows once in a while.
On the surface, it's a resume that many pilots would die for, and indicates a successful career of steady accomplishment, the plateau of life euphemistically referred to as the active years, when one has it made, and is still healthy enough to enjoy it.
It's not that simple a story. There was a lot of gender prejudice to overcome along the way. The first time she turned in an application for an airline job, she was laughed out of the office. So she took her love of aviation in other directions and did charter and freight work. Time passed, and attitudes changed, and finally Southwest was looking and took her application seriously. By now she has the rank of Captain but bids to fly the right seat so as to be certain to get the schedule she wants that will allow for 5:30 am wake up and a daily competition practice flight before work. That's the kind of down home pragmatism that this lady is all about. You get the idea that when the flash flood takes out the only bridge to town, it's just a good excuse to go build a better one. She is relentlessly cheerful in the face of life's hard knocks, and views a problem as a reason to roll up your sleeves and invent a solution.
Texas Hurricane Photo: Jim Koepnick/EAA
One look at Debby Rihn's airplane is all you need to figure out where she's coming from. Back when Leo Loudenslager introduced the mid-wing monoplane to competition aerobatics in the US, Debby Rihn thought that was the way to go, and, although she was competing at the time in an S1S Pitts Special, she bought a set of Stevens Acro plans and began building the hod rod monoplane that would take her the next level.
Coming back from South Cerney in 1986, Rihn decided that the lay-back cockpit of the then new Sukhoi Su-26 was an advantage she could not give away, so she had the boys in the shop chop up the already welded fuselage and install a lay back seat to give her more G tolerance. Coming back from Red Deer, Alberta in 1988, it was clear that 200 horses were not going to be enough to compete with, so she had the boys in the shop chop off the engine mount and redesign the nose to accommodate a 300 horsepower engine, which accounts for the Hurricane's pug-nosed look. Although the airplane flew for a year or two with the original Stevens/Laser wing design, it was clear after WAC XV at Yverdon, Switzerland in 1990 that the wing was becoming dated compared to the Walter Extra thick point forward composite wing design. So she had the boys in the shop rework the fuselage wing mounts and bought a trick custom acro wing from Zivko up in Guthrie, the folks who make the Edge 540 acro machine.
Just before coming to the Spring training practice in late May, Debby Rihn decided she needed a little more rudder authority, so she had the boys in the shop take the rudder off and extend it by a coupla inches and add a servo tab to keep the pedal forces down. And there was some concern about wear on the elevator hinges, so she told them to "do what ever it takes to fix the elevators, as long as I can fly it tomorrow."
So the boys in the shop cut hole in the fabric of the elevator and stab out near the tip, laid some wet cloth on the area so the tail would not catch fire, and welded on an extra hinge just so's the elevator won't come off. They kinda ran out of the nice blue paint, so Debby showed up with a silver patch where they put the new cloth over the hole they cut. It ain't pretty, but it works. So does the new rudder. The airplane pivots very sharply around a hammerhead now, and during one outside rolling turn she got a little heavy on the rudder and she snap rolled right there in the turn. Rihn-Harvey just held the snap for one full turn, popped it out, and kept on going with the roller, telling team trainer John Morrissey over the radio to never mind the snap roll. Now she knows how much rudder to use in a rolling turn.
The Stevens/Laser/Rihn/Harvey/Edge Texas Hurricane, for all its utility trappings, gives nothing away to the store bought airplanes in the box. It's got just enough paint scheme to let the judges know for sure which side is up, and where it's headed at the moment, and not much more. It's got the roll rate, the vertical penetration, the control authority and the mean looks to get the job done. And she has the experience, the finesse and the determination to do so as well. It's a potent combination.
Taken together, however, it's more than. The Texas Hurricane and it's cheerful little pilot are a metaphor for almost the entire history of the American aerobatic effort at the world level. Strong willed, diligent, patient individuals evolving one of a kind, very personal airplanes to meet the changing demands of the competition arena. Long, evolutionary design histories reflecting the personal ideas and financial abilities of their designers and owners, which were often one and the same. The Curtis Pitts S1 Special, which began as a 45 hp airplane in 1944 for Curtis's own use, and reached its apex as the 200 hp, round wing, four aileron S1-S that Charlie Hillard used to win the first American World Championship title in 1972. Art Scholl's marvelous geared, retractable gear 260 hp Super Chipmunk. Leo Loudenslager's trim Laser, that gave us our second World Champion. Kermit Week's Special and Solution, two biplanes that Kermit designed, build and campaigned during his tenure on the U.S. Team. Henry Haigh's SuperStar, which gave America its third and only other World Aerobatic Champion. All these outstanding airplanes and the legacy they inherit from the Krier-Kraft, the Spinks Akromaster, Duane Cole's wonderful little clipped wing T-craft and others like them speak to the freedom Americans enjoy to invent their own lives, and the individuality they exhibit when doing so.
As the only pure homebuilt on the current team, the Texas Hurricane is the keeper of a fine American tradition of individual accomplishment. That tradition is dying, however, as the demands of designing and developing a world class competition airplane are beyond the scope of one individual, unless he's Bill Gates or Jim Clark, only one of whom has a passing interest in the sport. The United States team is extremely well equipped this year, and they should do well accordingly. But it's worth noting that the main reason they are is Walter Extra, whose factory in Germany build half the aircraft used by team members. Avions Mudry, the dedicated aerobatic aircraft design firm in France built two more, which only leaves the Pitts S1-11-B, the Stuadacher 300 and the Texas Hurricane as home grown mounts on the current U.S. team.
Painted on the cockpit frame is the name of Dr. Eoin Harvey, Rihn's life companion, partner and co-designer of the Texas Hurricane. WAC XVIII should have been the grand finale to the development story of Doc Harvey's monoplane. But he succumbed to cancer shortly after last year's U.S. Nationals, taking from Debby Rihn an inestimable part of her life and her avocation. She loved the man dearly, as did rest of the aerobatic community. Somehow, in a way she won't mention to a journalist, this WAC won't be the same without him there to watch her fly their joint creation. But that is not a point to be dwelled upon, or allowed to diminish the achievement. Debby's got the grit to press on, and does so with a ready smile and a quiet, relentless persistence. This one's for Doc.
So the well equipped, well trained French women can bring their CAPs to Page and the well equipped, well trained Russian women can bring their Sukhois, as well. Y'all come on down and compete. We're glad to have you here in the states once again, and promise a fair contest and a good time. But let me give you a weather report. You might find out that this time, you are facing one talented, determined pilot flying the contest of her life for the home crowd and the memory of a soul mate. You might find yourself blown away by a Hurricane from Texas.