After months of welding, then quickly coordinating schedules, Mama’s Chief was finally ready to make her trip to the sandblaster. We’d discussed the logistics in the Sandblasting and Shifting Plans, and this week it was time to see that plan through.
The goal: get the freshly repaired fuselage cleaned down to bare steel so primer and paint can do their job protecting her for decades to come.
Our Aeronca friend planned to meet us at the hangar at eight sharp.
We already had the Cub pulled out so he could back his truck in for easier loading. Once he arrived, it didn’t take long for the three of us to lift the fuselage into the bed and get it secured.
The welder and our Aeronca friend had their tried-and-true procedure for hauling little “flivver” airplanes like Mama’s Chief to the sandblaster when a trailer wasn’t available.
Mama’s Chief, a 1946 Aeronca 11AC, is the same airplane my mother brought home in laundry baskets before she ever met my father. Finding it again years later and bringing it back to life feels like closing a circle — a continuation of her dream.
I followed behind with flashers on during the short drive along backroads between the airport and the sandblaster’s shop.
Why Sandblasting Matters
Sandblasting might seem like just another step in the long list of restoration tasks, but it’s one of the most important. Every bit of old primer, rust, and residue has to come off before new coatings can properly adhere. The cleaner the surface, the better the protection once paint goes on.
Bare steel exposed to air starts oxidizing almost immediately, so time is critical — sandblast, then prime. The restorer always says that surface prep makes or breaks the finish. A perfect paint job can’t hide what’s underneath.
This was one of those jobs he felt was worth leaving to a professional. Having it done right meant we could focus our time and energy on priming and painting — the stages that seal the metal and preserve all the hard work already done.
As our Aeronca friend pulled out of the airport with the freshly welded fuselage sitting comfortably in the back of his red truck, I smiled at the uncanny continuity — Mama’s Chief had once been towed home behind Uncle Paul and Peppermint Pam’s red truck.
If you missed the backstory leading up to this moment, you can read about how the timing came together in Sandblasting and Shifting Plans .
The Sandblasting Shop
We arrived before the sandblaster did and waited outside the locked gate. When he pulled up, we brought the fuselage inside and set it where he indicated. He expected to start later that day and promised to call when the work was complete.
Back at the airport, we dropped off my car and all headed the nearly hour trek up to the restoration shop.
Higher winds and dropping temperatures in the forecast meant changing gears from priming in our Aeronca friend’s hangar. At the suggestion of the other restorer, we reached out to a local benefactor to see if we could use his trailer.
“Sure, no problem,” came his quick text reply.
By the time we reached the shop, the restorers had already mapped out how to juggle space and paint-booth time. The airplane currently in the booth needed several days to cure after its final coat — perfect timing for Mama’s Chief’s arrival and primer session.
The heated hangar with ventilation, good lighting, and the oversight of the other restorer and Uncle Paul was exactly what the restorer had hoped for. Having that second (and third) set of experienced eyes made all the difference.
After Sandblasting
When we arrived to pick her up, the bare steel was stunning — polished and clean, almost as if it had been painted rather than stripped.
The restorer and our Aeronca friend attached the gear legs after the fuselage was on the trailer. As one fitting went on, a trickle of sand poured out. The restorer nodded — the sandblaster had applied just the right amount of pressure to remove the coating without scarring the surface. Our Aeronca friend muttered approvingly, “Looks good,” as they tightened straps across the frame.
Once again, I followed behind — this time from the sandblaster’s yard back to the restoration shop. It amazed me how much had been accomplished in such a short time.
Preparing for Paint
The other restorer had an area cleared just outside the paint booth when we arrived, hangar doors open wide to welcome the project home. We set the fuselage down in the hangar, dropped off the trailer next door, and thanked our Aeronca friend for the help.
As we talked, our conversation wandered from current projects to old flying stories. Moments like these — ordinary in their rhythm but filled with camaraderie — recharge in quiet, unexpected ways.
The restorers rolled out the old rotator from storage and discussed how to mount the fuselage for priming.
Painting, like sandblasting, isn’t just cosmetic. Each coat of primer and paint forms a barrier that shields the metal from moisture, corrosion, and time itself. Good paint keeps an airplane strong and safe — especially for a 79-year-old airframe that’s already seen generations of hands care for it.
With Mama’s Chief now in a heated area, we could breathe a little easier. The next step — protecting that newly bare steel from rust — still needed to happen soon, but at least we had a small window to work within.
Tomorrow would bring primer prep, more rearranging, and another step forward in Mama’s Chief’s journey back to flight.
Seeing Mama’s Chief resting in front of the paint booth, I couldn’t help but think about my mother — the young woman who once brought this airplane home in laundry baskets — and my father who shared her love of flying. I wonder what they’re thinking as they watch us now, bringing her airplane back to life one careful step at a time. Somehow, it feels like they’re part of the crew, right here beside us.
Next up: Priming Day.
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Sandblasting and Shifting Plans