The morning of June 25, 1994, was exceptionally clear and pleasant in central Arkansas and found me sitting at the end of a very scarce asphalt runway in my robust, aerodynamic Ag Cat. It was 85 degrees F and the winds were calm. I was ready to roll with half a tank of gas and a hopper crammed full with 1,800 pounds of dry fertilizer (urea), waiting to hear that the flaggers were set up and ready in the rice field needing to be fertilized. The location of the field in relation to the runway was such that I decided to take off in the direction heading away from the field. This is very unusual.
While fertilizing earlier that morning, I had come to one familiar conclusion: “It’s going to be a good day.”
