PILOT RISES ABOVE THE TURBULENCE LATINO, 83, RECALLS HIS STRUGGLE TO SERVE U.S.

Byline: CONNIE LLANOS 

Staff Writer

STEVENSON RANCH - Rudy Perez sat there, his head heavy in his hands, certain he'd never live his dream.

He wondered if his Army Air Forces captain knew he was just six weeks away from graduating when he gave him that pink slip -- two of those and his plan would die.

Perez had the courage to ask the man in the shiny boots why.

"I ain't ever graduated one of you," the captain said. "I am not about to start now."

Perez had thought up various scenarios where he'd fail to become a pilot, but the fact his grandparents were Mexican was never among them.

"I thought right there my career was over," Perez said.

Sixty-five years later, Perez, now 83, has a crystal clear memory of how those boots clicked away that day.

As it turned out, a trusting colonel was willing to give Perez a shot -- one that led to a successful 32-year career as a U.S. military pilot.

It had Perez living in a dozen different countries around the world and flying over four different continents. He flew several fighter planes in three U.S wars -- World War II, Korea and Vietnam -- and retired in 1973 as a colonel. Perez also was personal pilot for two Air Force generals.

Now an octagenarian, Perez looks great for his age. There are a few hard-earned wrinkles, but his lanky 6-foot, 2-inch frame reveals his good health.

He remains humble and at times even skeptical.

"Who knew a little boy from San Antonio could have all this," Perez said with a smile.

The oldest of five boys growing up in the 1930s, Perez was raised in loving family. Perez's dad was an Army veteran who talked to his boys about following in his footsteps. Perez never aspired to be more than what his dad wanted him to be.

Perez was just 6 when his father took him to Randolph Airfield in Texas.

"When I saw all those pilots with their four-year degrees and their convertibles, given to them by Ford Motor Company and the pretty ladies in them, I knew that was what I wanted to do," Perez said.

He followed the dream, but years later he found the Aviation Cadet Pilot training program -- where Army Air Forces pilots trained -- a lonely place. He was one of a few Latino men to complete pilot training. As Perez explains it, during the tail end of the World War II the academy was opened up to noncollege graduates.

This left the gates open to many young minority men who otherwise wouldn't have had the opportunity to fly.

"It was a different time then," Perez said. "There was discrimination, blatant and not so blatant.

"I learned to accept that I didn't look like everyone else, that I would have to work a lot harder to be accepted and that I would never complain."

Perez eventually chose to fly fighter aircraft and multiengine planes. It was his job to escort bomber planes -- that usually housed nine servicemen -- to their targets and then return them safely to their take-off spots.

The freckled Perez minimizes his military role.

In World War II and the Korean War he never shot anyone down. And in his two tours in Vietnam, he was frustrated because his rank left him with an unfortunate job.

"I had to send men off to die," Perez said.

When Perez's wife, Constance, was having surgery last year a man saw Perez, sporting his chocolate leather pilot jacket, and it drove the man to tears.

"He came up to me and asked me if I was a 'little friend,'" Perez said, explaining the common term used to describe fighter pilots.

"He hugged me and started crying."

But Perez is quick to turn away this type of attention.

"I'm no hero," Perez said. "I just did what a hundred thousand other men did."

It was this behind-the-scenes approach that a large number of minority servicemen adopted over the years. Recently, the lack of recognition for Latino men in World War II was brought to light when Ken Burns, a Public Broadcasting Service legend, produced his quintessential piece on the war and failed to include Latinos and several other ethnicities.

Alex Reza, retired high school teacher and community advocate, said minorities in the military have been overlooked for their heroism for years.

That is why when Reza met Perez 12 years ago, he knew right away his students in the predominantly poor and Latino neighborhood of San Fernando had to hear the man's story.

Reza gave Perez his first taste at working with Latino youths.

"Students were always impressed by him as a person," Reza said. "A lot of students don't realize the world that people like Rudy grew up in. There was a tremendous driving force that was motivating him and a commitment to overcome what he was facing."

Now Perez does his best to stay connected to the youths of color he meets. They need to know, he said, that anything is possible.

"When you have a dad that comes home drunk and beats your mom it's hard to believe that you can be something," Perez said.

A military man is usually a man of few words, Perez admits. But now in his later years Perez says he enjoys reading articles and "getting mad."

Memorial Day always brings up mixed emotions for Perez. He still enjoys doing flyover's with members of his Army Air Forces class -- about 12 out of the original 200 can still join him.

"It's sad, every day we lose 1,000 to 1,200 men from that era," Perez said. "Pretty soon that part of history will be gone."

For a man who's seen the destruction of war from above, it's sad to see fellow citizens overlook the meaning of the holiday.

"The day has become about sales," Perez said. "Drive around this neighborhood Monday and see how many flags you see waving."

Perez, still married to Constance after 64 years, left the military after Vietnam and became a top executive for aerospace giant Lockheed Corp. He now serves as a motivational speaker to youths, teaches aspiring pilots and still flies himself, often with his "wingman," Mike Jauregui, a youngster of 72.

Perez's skills in the air are worthy of respect, Jauregui said.

"I always let him take the lead, he is one of the few men I trust flying with," he said. "I really respect his abilities."

The men fly for lunch dates in Camarillo or Santa Clara, but their passion is to fly in formation with their squadron, the Condor Squadron at Van Nuys Airport.

No question, Perez won't give up flying easily.

"Flying is better than chasing all the girls or drinking at all the bars in the world," he said. "I guess everything comes to an end sometime, but as long as I can pass a flight physical I'll keep on flying."

connie.llanos(at)dailynews.com

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5 photos

Photo:

(1 -- 2 -- color) Rudy Perez, 83, of Stevenson Ranch joined the Army Air Forces to fly in World War II and also flew during the Korean War and in Vietnam. Perez still flies his 1943 AT-60 plane, above, out of Van Nuys, and has been married to Connie, left, for 65 years.

(3 -- color) Rudy Perez, 83, spent 32 years as a U.S. military pilot, flying fighter planes in three U.S wars before retiring in 1973 as a colonel.

(4 -- color) This inscription is on the side of Rudy Perez's 1943 AT-60 plane, which he still flies out of Van Nuys.

(5 -- color) Rudy Perez still performs flyovers with members of his Army Air Forces class for Memorial Day, which brings mixed emotions.

David Crane/Staff Photographer