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Kitty Banner and Kimball Forrest

KITTY BANNER
BORN: Sept. 1, 1952
BIRTHPLACE: Chicago, Ill.
SOLOED: 22 years old
MARRIED: 1959, to Bob Seemann
FAVORITE AIRCRAFT: Piper Super Cub 23Z. So many fun flight adventures with Roberta Sheldon!

KIMBALL FORREST
BORN: Dec. 21, 1954
BIRTHPLACE: Bellingham, Wash.
SOLOED: 16 years old
MARRIED: 1985, to Susan Buesseler
FAVORITE AIRCRAFT: Robinson 44 helicopter and Cessna 180

Kitty Banner knew something was wrong.

Earlier that day she'd been sent to pick up climbing equipment that had been abandoned during a rescue mission the day before—it had been encased in ice and snow and was therefore too heavy to fly back with the passengers. Because she was smaller and lighter than the other pilots, Mike Fisher, her flight instructor, sent her.

But circling above the West Fork of the Ruth Glacier in a Super Cub plane, she could tell that the rough map—drawn on the brown paper bag that had held Fisher's lunch earlier in the week—and instructions weren't going to work anymore.

There were dangerous fall lines and shadowed areas that caused depth perception problems that ultimately made her hesitant to land where he'd suggested.

"I was acutely aware of the fuel quantity, the rate of consumption and the threat posed by a thick mass of nasty weather creeping up the glacier with dense clouds hovering in the valley below," Banner said.

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Due to limited conditions, she decided it was best to land on the ski tracks of the plane that lifted out the climber the day before—the spot that Fisher advised her against because of the large hole where they dug out the stuck C185.

"Climbing out of the airplane, I glanced down at the hole, just a few feet away, which was wider and deeper than I'd thought, confirming the tricks that can be played in certain light and snow conditions while trying to read a surface from altitude," Banner said.

She could see the pink wands marking the cache roughly 100 feet away. Though it wasn't too far, she could see a number of exposed crevasses and estimated there were more that weren't visible. Pulling out a cord of climbing rope, she knotted one end to her belt and one to the aircraft and then pushed through the snow to the gear on the glacier.

As she loaded the contents of the cache onto an orange sled, she heard a thunderous noise.

An avalanche had broken loose.

"I was directly in its path, no escape, nowhere to hide," Banner said.  I turned from the sled, checked to ensure the rope—my lifeline—was taut. I stomped my feet into the snow to brace for the impact and waited for the inevitable."

She watched as her plane disappeared in the cloud of snow and she was enveloped in white. Nearly as soon as it had started, it stopped, leaving an unnerving silence.

"When the mist settled, there was the Super Cub, covered in white but untouched," Banner said. "Miraculously, the avalanche ended just short of us."

Carefully—she knew avalanches can trigger further avalanche activity—she cleaned off the plane and loaded the gear in. She pushed the starter, the engine coughed once, but started. She coaxed the heavily loaded plane off the glacier, through walls of granite and ice and headed back toward Talkeetna.

THE CALL OF TALKEETNA

Talkeetna was a beacon for Banner for much of her flying life. Though she began her career as a pilot in 1974, it was only a few years before she made her way to Talkeetna.  

A few years prior to escaping the avalanche unharmed, Banner graduated from Western Washington State College (now Western Washington University) in Bellingham, Wash., with an aviation degree and worked her first couple flight-related gigs—at the Bellingham Airport and then the Boulder Airport, in Colorado, as "the little gas gal" (chief fuel dispersal technician), an occupation she still lists on her resume.

In Boulder, she met Jim Sharp. At the time she was trying to get her Airframe and Powerplant (A&P) license but because she already had a bachelor's degree from Western Washington, she was considered overqualified for grants that would offset the cost of her education. Sharp had just purchased Roberta Sheldon's air service, Talkeetna Air Service, and rechristened it Talkeetna Air Taxi. He wanted Banner to come fly for him in Alaska.

Banner had already committed to working for Carolyn Cullen, the owner and operator of Tradewind Airport on Martha's Vineyard. Cullen was a World War II pilot, transport pilot, won powder puff derbies, flew transcontinental flights and was buddies with Amelia Earhart.

Though she had a lot to offer her, Banner said Cullen knew the draw of Alaska would eventually be too great. Within a few months Banner went to Alaska. In the years that followed she worked seasonally in Talkeetna and Boulder.

For Banner, Talkeetna is full of memories.

One of the quirkiest involves the famous Fairview Bar. Banner said that after successful expeditions, clients would often want their pilots to join them in celebratory drinks at the bar. She didn't want to drink because she'd be on call or flying soon so she developed her own trick for getting out of it. She always ordered a shot of Jack Daniels and, immediately following the toast, she threw the shot over her shoulder onto the wall. It's a trick, she says, she's passed on to the next new generation of pilots.

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Banner met her husband, Bob Seemann, in Colorado, but taught him to fly in Alaska. They had their two sons, Mick and Corey, and built a cabin on Katie Lake, outside of Talkeetna. The boys learned to fly float and backcountry tailwheel planes while in Talkeetna, too.

Talkeetna is also where she met Roberta Sheldon. They became fast friends after Banner gave her a few flying lessons. In the years that followed they flew everywhere, from picnics, to mines, to birthday parties. She occasionally stayed at Sheldon's house in the early days—otherwise it would've been the Talkeetna Air Taxi's silver hangar on the Village Air Strip, followed by a shower with the rest of the climbers at the local gas station.

FINDING A PARTNER

In late 1979, Banner and her friend from college, Kimball Forrest, a pilot and geologist, purchased Holland Air Service and renamed it K2 Aviation, for Kitty and Kimball.

Forrest had learned to fly and earned most of his ratings while still in high school. His first commercial job—while he was still a teenager—was flying parachute jumpers out of a small field north of Bellingham Airport in Washington. All day long he'd take off, loaded with parachute jumpers.

Between his junior and senior years of college, he made his way to Alaska and flew on-demand for Marge Baker in Kotzebue.

Forrest later juggled graduate school and running K2 with Banner. Together with Banner, they transported mountain climbers, fish surveyors and hunters. There was always something new and different, he said, complicated enough to lose sleep over. He and Banner were both in their 20s and neither wanted to make a mistake.

When he wasn't flying, Forrest could be found helping long-time friend and company mechanic, Larry Draveling, with K2's 100-hour inspections.

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Banner and Forrest operated the business for a few years before selling it in 1982 so Forrest could focus on school, but Banner didn't stop flying. Jim Okonek, the man they sold the business to, asked Banner to come on and again fly international expeditioners to the glaciers near Mount Denali. She also flew flightseers, fishermen and hunters. Forrest also continued to fly and earned his helicopter rating and A&P license.

K2 has changed hands to Suzanne and Todd Rust since Banner, Forrest and Okonek, but the name remains as a nod to the founders.

This story first appeared in the 2016 edition of Alaska Aviation Legends Magazine, a partner publication with Alaska Air Carriers Association. Contact the editor, Jamie Gonzales, at jgonzales@alaskadispatch.com.

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