If you’re unfamiliar with the story, here’s how I recall it, but feel free to add your own comments. The land was originally a scrap yard and the Lightning’s sad fate was the same as many cold war jets – a spectacular, eye catching gate guardian strategically positioned close to the main route to promote the owner’s business. The reason for the skyward angle of the nose was that the engines, radar and pretty much everything else had been removed, shifting the centre of gravity and making the poor jet tip backwards onto it’s tail.
And there it sat for decades. I’m told the owner’s business eventually folded, but for reasons unclear to me, the jet remained on site. Now devoid of any last remaining protection, vandals moved in, decimating the airframe further, adding graffiti and chopping holes.
Like many people with a love of aviation and fond memories for Lightnings taking off, tearing the air apart making a sound like like a silk sheet ripping, I was saddened every time I drove by.
But now that it’s gone, I’m sadder still. For sure, it was beyond restoration, but I’d seen it as a tough old survivor, resolutely remaining despite the local youths best attempts. So it’s probably now gone forever, melted, recycled and forming part of a drinks can somewhere in the world. If you know otherwise, feel free to add your comments, I’d be interested to hear what others thought of it.
This forms the first of a series of blog posts about a personal project I’m calling Dead Metal, which I’ll write some more about this coming month.


