BELLA VISTA -- Harvey Brown was around 10 years old when he stumbled across an ad in the newspaper for a model airplane kit.
"Some guy in Detroit was selling it," he said. "It cost 53 cents, and all it had was some balsa wood, tissue paper and piano wire."
But that was all it took to light a fiery passion in Brown.
"From that point on, I was building model airplanes so often that my father almost had to drag me out of the house," Brown said. "I'd run home from school hoping that the glue had dried. Back then, you didn't have fast-acting glue and you'd have to wait a day for it to dry."
Now retired in Bella Vista at Highlands Healthcare & Rehab and still spry at 98, the Michigan native eventually moved on to building model boats.
His creations, nearly 20 years old, are still pristine and reside primarily on the land now, resting atop their display stands. Their tranquil beauty and meticulous design is a reflection of what Brown's daughter, Shirley, says was her father's "colorful life."
Brown, who grew up in the Wolverine State, was drafted into the Army before the United States entered World War II.
"Certain groups of men had to register, with a chance of penalty if you didn't. And then they gave me a draft card, which said report on July 22 at 1 p.m.," he said. "So I did. From then on, I was in the Army, and eventually moved into the Army Air Force."
He was still in basic training when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor.
"About six months later, they gave me five days off to get married," Brown said. "And from there, I went back and continued my missions."
A bombardier, Brown flew B-17s and dropped bombs primarily over Eastern Europe. He was stationed in Fossa, Italy, because it took the B-17s nearly 100 miles to get the necessary altitude to clear the Swiss Alps.
Brown flew 30 bombing missions and received the Distinguished Flying Cross, which is awarded to personnel who displayed heroism or extraordinary achievement while on duty.
He was sent home in April 1945, one month before Germany surrendered. With the war still raging in the Pacific, Brown was given 30 days off for some R&R -- rest and relaxation. The Army sent him and his wife, Genevieve, to Miami Beach.
There was one catch, though. Brown was still in the Air Force, and Army officials continually briefed him about the war.
He was given two options: stay in the Air Force and get redeployed, or resign and go home.
"I went back to my hotel room and told Genevieve I had two options," Brown said. "I don't think I had even decided, but she said, 'that's enough! You're coming home ... you're getting out right now!'"
"I don't think we talked for another few hours after that," Brown joked.
Back in civilian life, Brown stayed close to the military with his work.
Working at a tool-and-die company in Detroit, he spearheaded a project to help the Army develop automatic chaff dispensers. Chaff is usually small pieces of aluminum used to disrupt enemy radar.
The Army wanted an automatic mechanism that would be more effective for pilots, who could use it just by pushing a button.
Due to its stringent demands for the device, though, the Army thought creating such a mechanism was an impossible task. But Brown proved otherwise.
"He had so much knowledge and experience from being in battle, that he was perfect for the job," said Jack Kellogg, Brown's son-in-law. "It gave him an advantage over all the recent graduates, and it's pretty incredible that his company was able to bid on it."
Eventually Brown moved his family to New York, where they stayed for about five years. When they had enough of the Big Apple, he moved them to Boulder, Colo. Not content with the harsh winter climate -- "almost as bad as Michigan," Brown says -- he retired to Sun City, Ariz.
"That's where he really had time to work with remote control airplanes and gliders," Shirley said.
Thanks to its arid climate and sparse vegetation, Brown was able to experiment with gliders and remote control planes.
"I used to have a rubber band, nearly 40 feet long, and stretch it back real far -- until its about to split your ear -- and then let it go."
But the Arizona heat was insufferable. Brown was leaving for Montana and Idaho in the summers, just to escape the heat.
"That's when I moved to Bella Vista," he said. "The terrain is similar to where I grew up. And the winters are a lot better."
However, Brown was now surrounded by dense forest. He had nowhere to fly his planes. So he turned to boats.
Brown spent nearly a year on some of his marine projects -- steaming the wood so it straightened out and configuring antennas through the ship's mast.
Many of them are motorized, and can work remotely out on the water.
"I remember we were out on the lake one time and a man and his kid were just awestruck by one of the boats," Jack said. "He couldn't keep his eyes off of it, so Harvey sold it to him."
Brown gave the youngster a favorable price, as similar projects have sold for thousands online.
One of his most prized and challenging creations, a replica of Sir Francis Drake's famous galleon Golden Hind, sits encased in glass.
Brown committed himself to the project, which took nearly a year because of its complex design. It didn't help that the instructions were in Italian.
"There weren't many people in this area who knew how to cut a piece of plastic square," Brown said. "So I did it on my own at home. Built the case, fixed the trim, tied the knots. It's a ship that made a great name for itself."
Brown has given up model making for now, but his creations will live on as the remnants and reflections of their intricate creator.
General News on 10/22/2014