A Trip Inside the Mid-Atlantic Air Museum

Every story has a beginning. So does every institution. And sometimes there is irony in those beginnings.

The Mid-Atlantic Air Museum (MAAM) is one of those institutions. A long-ago plane crash served as the catalyst for the museum to take flight.

Located at the northeastern skirt of the Reading Regional Airport, the museum has roots embedded in a wrecked 70-plus-year-old World War II fighter plane decaying on an Indonesian hillside above a dense jungle.

Russ Strine, now president of what is fondly referred to as MAAM, founded the museum in December 1979 along with his late father, Eugene “Pappy” Strine. 

Both aviation experts and aficionados, the Strines had a fixed-based operation (FBO) facility at Harrisburg International Airport.

Fish Stories

“Dad was at an air show in the 1970s where the pilots were telling ‘fish stories,’” Russ recalls. One of those stories was about the location of a rare World War II-era night fighter plane known as the P-61 Black Widow.

The plane, despite being in a crash, was in salvageable condition – and it was one of only four known in existence. The problem was the location of the crash site: on a jungle-surrounded hilltop in New Guinea, Indonesia.

The pilot who laid claim to the plane offered to sell it to the elder Strine, whose interest was piqued at the thought of recovering the craft and making it once again fly-worthy.

“Dad always said: ‘I wish we could start a

museum,’” says Russ, “and here was the opportunity. I guess you could say naivete set in and

I said: ‘Let’s go get it.’”

But getting it was not an easy matter.

Russ remembers three or four meetings with the Indonesian air attaché in Washington, DC, all of which pretty much went nowhere.

Frustrated but not undone, Russ tried a new tactic. He had stationery and business cards made up bearing the Mid-Atlantic Air Museum name. After sending a missive on the newly minted custom stationery, “doors started opening,” he says. One small problem: the Mid-Atlantic Air Museum existed only on paper.

Making it Official

After calls to the Strines’ attorney, the legal work to incorporate the name and establish 501(c)3 non-profit status was secured, and the way was cleared to salvage the remains of the plane.

Ironically, the P-61 had only logged 10 air hours with the 550th Flight Squadron when it crashed. An overly enthusiastic pilot, determined to show off both his and the new plane’s abilities, pushed the craft beyond its capabilities, causing the crash. He, two crew members, and two passengers survived, but it took rescuers two days to get through the jungle, at places still held by Japanese soldiers, to rescue them.

It would take more than a decade; multiple trips to the Mt. Cyclops in Hollandia, New Guinea, crash site; and a small army of helpers and volunteers to clear the jungle overgrowth; salvage, label, and crate the subassemblies and other plane pieces in preparation; and airlift and truck the salvage to the port for the journey to America. The shipping costs tallied $54,000. Finally, in April of 1991, the crates with their precious cargo arrived at the docks in Baltimore, MD.

Over those same years, MAAM took shape with the Strines’ vision, investment and hard work.

The original location of the museum was to have been Harrisburg International Airport. But development efforts to expand and modernize the airport changed those plans. Then, officials in Schuylkill County offered to find the funds to build a $1 million hangar to house the museum. After more than two years of waiting, it became clear that was not going to happen.

Landing in Reading

In the meantime, after having relinquished their space at Harrisburg, the Strines established a new FBO at Reading Regional Airport in 1988, assuming the lease of a man who had fallen ill. After working with the airport authority, the Strines entered into a longer-term lease at the location that now is MAAM.

“I’ll never forget the headline announcing that,” says Russ. “It read: ‘Air Museum Lands in Reading.’”

By that point, MAAM was not just home base for restoration efforts for the P-61. The Strines had acquired 19 other vintage aircraft, either through donation or purchase for the museum, during those years.

In early 2020, MAAM now has more than 110 aircraft in its collection, acquiring on average three each year. Its initial home was the small circa-1943 building constructed for the Army Air Force as a site for machine-gun assembly. Now housing parts of the museum, gift shop, and offices, the structure was rebuilt by the Strines and MAAM volunteers who insulated it, put on new siding, and improved the interior.

MAAM welcomes aviation-related historical donations. Right now, artifacts and uniforms of the WWII and Korean War era are being donated by the children of the recently deceased who served.  

“We welcome the donations and carefully catalog them,” he says.

Beyond that small building is now a sprawling complex where larger planes sit on the tarmac and others nest indoors.

“We have a hangar, pavilion, and ground-vehicle building and we still don’t have enough room,” Russ says.

Yes to MAAM

MAAM was very nearly PAM. Russ and his dad initially considered the name Pennsylvania Air Museum.  With further consideration, including the fact that the museum collection would include aircraft manufactured throughout the middle Atlantic region, the founders said a hearty “yes” to MAAM.

Just as MAAM was gaining a foothold at the Bern Township airport, some long-standing traditions were on the verge of change.

The annual Reading Air Show, which got its start in the 1950s, drew spectacular shows like the Blue Angels and Thunderbirds, and at its height was considered among the best and most lucrative aviation exhibition and trade shows, had petered out a decade before. Its much smaller successor, the Reading Aerofest, never had the footing or financial support of its once-hearty predecessor.

The Strines believed their museum – and the connections they had in the aviation world – held the keys to a new annual aviation event. A museum volunteer suggested it be one centered on history and honor for the military: World War II Weekend.

“We saw the need to fill the void that the air show left,” says Russ, noting that the Aerofest iterations dive-bombed, as they were not reaping any economic benefits for the sponsoring airport authority and available volunteers were not sufficient to pull them off.

The Strines believed that a World War II event would not only be fun and tribute-driven, but that it would also be a money-maker for the museum.

A New Tradition Soars

The first WWII Weekend debuted in 1990. The event, always held the first full weekend of June each year, was a success from its start.  

“The result was that our weekend did not conflict (with the final years of Aerofest), and when the airport authority gave up on theirs, ours continued to grow year after year until we got to where we are today,” says Russ.

This year’s weekend, June 5 through 7, entitled “A Gathering of Warbirds,” marks the 30th anniversary of what has become one of the most popular events in Berks County.

“We limit it strictly to World War II-era planes,” says Russ. More than 80 planes are expected to be on exhibit or in the air in June, along with 1,600 WWII re-enactors and 200 military vehicles spread over 40 acres of the airport property. The individuals and machinery will be set up in 50 encampments representing every country involved in the global conflict.  

Russ makes note, as does the MAAM website, that every nation, friend or foe, is represented to add historical clarity. He urges attendees to ask questions, but to do so civilly.

“WWII Weekend strives to present the broadest possible scope of WWII history without making any philosophical endorsements whatsoever,” reads the website statement. “If in this process, you have a philosophical question with any of the visiting planes, visiting vehicles, visiting groups, visiting guests, visiting vendors or visiting persons who paid admission to attend, we request that you please contact the identified party directly for an explanation.”

Russ says visitors from 16 countries and 46 states attended the 2019 the airshow. Two young Japanese men came specifically to ride in a B-29 bomber, the very model of the Enola Gay that dropped the bombs on Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

“I’m not sure that would have appealed to me if I was in their situation,” Russ asserts. 

Lots of People, Lots of Work

More than 450 volunteers work the weekend to make all the events flow smoothly – flights, encampments, dances, period radio shows, bands, and other related performances.

The weekend draws nearly 22,000 of the 30,000 folks who annually visit MAAM, making it a huge fundraiser for the museum. The economic impact to the region is also huge; Russ estimates WWII Weekend infuses upwards of $15 million into the greater Berks region.

“Our Achilles heel is parking,” Russ says. Contracts with local bus entities enable visitors to park in open lots near the Berks Heim, but that bussing comes at a cost of $1 per person to bring a visitor to the gate.

“I’m very humbled and very proud of what we’ve been able to do here,” Russ says. With a membership of 1,100, there are a total of 50 active volunteers who labor year-round as tour guides, work the admission counter, do clean-up when needed, and apply their aviation expertise to aircraft maintenance and restoration, including the ongoing work on the P-61.

“Volunteers are getting harder and harder to get,” he says, but he enjoys acquainting new ones with MAAM and its aircraft. “I like to teach.” 

Lots of Planes

Of the aircraft that consider MAAM home base, less than two dozen are military. Among the fleet are three airliners, half a dozen experimental/prototype planes, military transports, cargo planes, and a submarine hunter. The balance are civil and antique aircraft and classic small planes like Pipers and Cessnas, along with some military trainers and corporate planes.

“We have a pretty well-rounded collection,” Russ says.

While the museum and gift shop are freely open to visitors, access to the plane collection — those on the tarmac and in the hangars — is dependent on the availability of TSA-cleared tour guides.

“Anyone inside the fence must be escorted,” Russ stresses.

MAAM offers airplane rides the second weekend of the month, May through October. Particularly popular are rides in the open-air Sheen biplane. Rides on the B-25 bomber are also highly prized, especially among the MAAM membership and volunteers.

“We go to a lot of airshows and the members can crew,” Russ says. “We come home Saturday or Sunday night; for some it’s a real reward for their work on the planes.”

One of the more striking and large planes in the MAAM collection is an Eastern Airlines passenger plane. Built by the Glenn R. Martin Company of Baltimore, it is a Martin 4-0-4 twin-engine, 40-passenger pressurized plane, the type which replaced the old DC-3s post WWII. It is one of the 60 of 103 4-0-4s that were commissioned by Eastern. MAAM’s Martin, serial number 14141, joined Eastern's "Great Silver Fleet" as "Silver Falcon" N450A on Jan. 23, 1952, and was the 11th 4-0-4 delivered.  

Russ notes that none other than legendary Capt. Eddie Rickenbach, WWII flying ace who later served as Eastern president, declared the 4-0-4 the best airliner of its day.

MAAM acquired its 4-0-4 in 1991 and restored it to its full 1958-era Eastern Airlines glory. Impressively, it had served as a working charter aircraft through 1985.

The MAAM 4-0-4 actually serviced Reading Airport, according to its logs, says Russ. The plane, with 58,000 hours on it, flew daily on the Washington-Baltimore-Lancaster-Reading-Allentown-New York City route.  

“That’s the kind of provenance we like to have in our collection,” he says.

MAAM originally allowed visitors to walk through the plane with a $1 admission.  

“I was totally blown away by the number of people [visitors] who had never been on a plane or flown,” he says.

With stricter liability concerns, those walk throughs have ceased. Also, though the 4-0-4 is airworthy, MAAM stopped flying it due to exorbitant operational costs. He does hope it will be airborne again one day.

On the Wings of Possibility

Russ also hopes that someday passenger service will be restored to the Reading Regional Airport to honor the area’s rich aviation history.

“My opinion is that the world has bypassed Reading from an airline point of view,” he says. “When 9/11 happened, the airlines had a knee-jerk reaction and changed their business model.”

Reading, he says, suffers because it is in the middle of an aviation golden triangle – 35 miles to Allentown, 50 miles to Harrisburg, 60 miles to Philadelphia. Lancaster, too, is in a similar situation.  

The once-reliable Suburban airline route of Pittsburgh-Lancaster-Reading shut down more than a dozen years ago, leaving the circa 2000, $12 million terminal pretty much devoid of passengers other than occasional charter flights.

But just as Russ envisions passengers taking flight again someday from the airport, he also sees the time coming when his treasured P-61 will take to the skies over Berks and beyond.

More than $1.8 million raised through donations has been invested into the P-61, which Strine says is now 75 percent restored. His dad, in charge of the restoration, passed in 2018, and Russ has taken up the mission along with committed expert volunteers.

He believes it may take another $600,000 and four more years of restoration to make the P-61 airworthy again. The cost of parts has increased, Strine estimates, by more than 500 percent since 1980. He cites new tires, each costing $4,000, and new brakes costing $20,000 among the most recent additions.  

When restoration is complete, MAAM’s P-61 will be the only one of the four in existence to soar.

“That will certainly be a day to remember,” he says. “It would have been great for my dad to have seen it fly.”