As unlikely as they were, big ticket airplane sales were always welcome at a flight school.
Somewhere along the line, probably at a manufacturer’s dealership meeting, I heard a statistic that the typical flight school survives on a three to six percent profit margin – if it survives. That sounds about right for half of the flight schools I worked at, the other half didn’t do that well. Occasional aircraft sales were always welcome and good for cash flow and profit. Selling an expensive airplane, if you didn’t negotiate away all the profit to get the sale, was a real treat.
Any aircraft sale helped. And anybody who might be interested in buying an airplane was welcome. One might be surprised at who would buy an airplane – I once bought one. So I took inquiries seriously even though most were only causally interested and/or couldn’t actuially afford or otherwise justify an airplane – and I wasn’t adept at telling people they needed an airplane if they didn’t, or that they could afford one when they couldn’t. There were buyers who were just shopping. There were also some (too few) who proved real, bought an airplane and we made a sale – at whatever profit we could get. For an aircraft that was to be leased back to the school as a business, with its tax advantages and whatever potential to earn all or part of its monthly payment (also providing the owner with his own airplane to fly) we could get nearly retail.
As a dealership, we were required to take several new Cessna airplanes per year, light singles like the C-152 and C-172. Those airplanes needed to be sold, one way or another. But we could also sell big-ticket Cessnas including twins by working with other Cessna dealerships, some of whom also had airplanes that they needed to sell one way or another. And Cessna itself was selling airplanes however they could, including a no-interest-for-a-year financing program, which I had just announced in our June newsletter. It was that kind of time in the cycles of economy. This was June of 1982.
Out of the blue one Saturday morning Lynnette, working desk, called me at home and reported, “A man just called from Stapleton. He said he is relocating to Boulder and wants to buy an airplane from us. He says he needs a Cessna 340. He wants to do it by Monday.” He had flown in to Denver and was now on the bus to Boulder.
I doubled my pace and headed for work. I’d need to brush up on Cessna 340s. It wouldn’t do to fumble if this turned out to be real.
Uncharacteristically for Boulder, the weather was low ceilings with rain. That would require a reschedule of the block check I had for 11:00, which would free up the day some. This man had said he would only be in town through Sunday.
Joe McConahy arrived at 10:00. He was five foot nine or ten, 240 pounds, and slightly damp from walking Airport Road from the bus stop. He wore off-white shoes and slacks, a yellow short-sleeve shirt, a tie and thick bifocals.
Joe was friendly and easy going, nice qualities in a person who wants to buy a big-ticket airplane item from you. He was a consultant to small and medium size radio stations, the type located in towns that have airports that are not served by airlines. He worked thirteen western states. He had been in radio for eighteen years, consulting for the past few. Typically he had to rent a car and drive an hour or more from the nearest airline service to consulting jobs. Occasionally he chartered a plane, once, he said, a Lear Jet. He generally spent over two thousand dollars a month on transportation, but still wasted time and had problems getting to where he was going. He wanted a Cessna 340 to do the job. Although he had taken a few lessons, Joe had resolved himself to paying for pilot services. His own flight training would continue somewhere down the road when business permitted.
I proposed a pilot, our ex-Navy, ex-corporate Chris Fair, one of my chief instructors.
I asked if he needed that much airplane to begin with.
Yes. His reputation was to be there when he said he would. Day or night, over the mountains, even when the weather was bad.
A ballpark price for the airplane was mentioned.
No problem. His father had died a couple of months ago and left him a considerable inheritance. His accountant said that he needed to shelter some of it. He could pay cash if need be. But he wanted to use the no-interest-for-a-year Cessna financing program he had heard about. He would put the purchase price in CDs for a year and pay off the note when the interest free year was up. (Was this a case of the no-interest program attracting a customer who might not buy otherwise?)
He had flown in a Cessna 340 and had talked with a couple of dealers about them. This was the airplane he wanted to buy and he wanted to get the ball rolling that weekend.
Financing details were discussed. Joe asked for a “shopping list” of items that Cessna Finance would need. And CFC’s address – he would have his accountant Fed-Ex a package to them today. They could check him out and write up the loan by next weekend. He was ready.
Could we get him the airplane? The pilot? A Hangar? Could we support the airplane? Yes, yes, yes and yes.
I excused myself to make inquires on the airplane and offered an office and phone for him to call his accountant.
“Marsha, make a note to check the phone bill for this morning.” I told my bookkeeper. I placed calls to two Multi-engine dealerships and to Mark Gardner, the regional Cessna Rep, all of which required callbacks. I called Chris, the pilot/instructor I had recommended to Joe.
Lynnette waited patiently until the dust settled. Having taken the original phone call, she was understandably curious.
The dealers I selected were helpful and efficient, as expected. I had rough specs and initial list/cost figures on three aircraft, one more to go.
“I’ve had some super-flakes,” I told one dealer, “And this could be one, but it looks good to me.”
Joe emerged and got a cup of coffee. Chris arrived. I gave him a thumbnail sketch and introduced him to Joe.
Joe proceeded at a more leisurely pace now. His accountant would ensure that the package was in CFC’s hands first thing on Monday and would arrange a funds transfer to a local account Joe would open today.
You couldn’t help but like Joe, not just for his easy ways. He knew that he could negotiate a lower price but he was also buying loyalty and friendship and intended to be doing business with us for a long time to come. Financially, this would be good for all of us and he had no problem with us making good money – he made good money. He seemed to be kind of a man after my own heart.
We began a three-way conversation on the merits of the 340 and Joe’s trip requirements, interspersed with techniques and requirements of his consulting business. While McConahy was easy going, he was also decisive. He had decided that the 340 was the right plane for his financial and transportation needs. And it should have everything that a pilot might want for flying in weather. We agreed.
As for Boulder, he knew the weather to be good for flying and it was in the area he worked. He named some destinations in Montana and Wyoming. And he had heard that Boulder was a great place to live and play. To a Boulderite, those were good reasons for moving from Ohio.
The kind of flying Joe wanted to do, day/night, over the mountains, in weather, needs a professional pilot. Chris was a professional pilot and met all the requirements except for a check out in the airplane. And Chris would be home based where he liked to live, Boulder. In fact, it was eventually decided to use the vacant apartment in the basement under WFT as Joe’s Boulder office, where the airplane would be right at hand.
It was late lunchtime and we took Joe for a sample of Boulder’s fare at a restaurant near the Pearl Street Mall. Then Chris dropped me back at the Airport and took Joe to settle in at the Harvest House and to open a bank account while I went over the details and wrote up the contract.
One couldn’t help but count their blessings, even though not yet realized. I would get a big commission, Chris would get a good commission and a real good flying job, WFT would make a commission, WA would gain a hangar tenant and fuel customer, P&H would gain a maintenance customer. Joe would be good for all of us and he would be much appreciated – you’ve got to envy Joe’s position in this too.
Then I got a call from Mark, the Cessna rep. He had heard a rumor of a similar Cessna 340 recently sold to a buyer who set up the whole deal then skipped. Mark was trying to get more information and would call me back. What if Joe was a scammer? But what if Joe was not?
Chris and Joe came back. There had been some problem with Joe opening an account with a credit card. The bank required a hundred dollars cash to do it. Joe suggested that I loan him the money from the till. I said I couldn’t do it that way and wrote him a personal check for the amount. Chris pulled me aside and said he thought there was something funny going on. I told him that he could be right but to stick with Joe while I checked it out. Chris and Joe departed to open the bank account then they had dinner at the Harvest House, where Joe could put it on his room bill.
By the time Chris and Joe got back the story was beginning to emerge. Another Cessna dealer in another state had made a contract on a Cessna 340 with a similar buyer of a different name who had then disappeared leaving unpaid debts. I then talked to the Boulder police and they began checking it out. But I proceded without comment as if the deal was still on. We went over the airplane’s specs, Joe wrote a check on his new account for the twenty-five thousand dollar deposit, and we signed the contract.
I was waiting, killing time, talking with Joe in my office, when Marsha called and said that two detectives were waiting to talk with me outside. I excused myself, went to the building entrance (out of sight of my office), and consulted with the detectives. They told me to wait where I was, they would take care of Joe.
When they took Joe out in handcuffs, I just glared at him. He didn’t notice, he was hanging his head.
© Jim Hutchinson