But the scheduled airlines had yet to ramp up to anything like today’s levels, and they didn’t serve many smaller airports. Enterprising companies sprang up to fill this need by modifying older piston-powered airplanes—some dating to the 1930s and 1940s, and some of them from the World War II era—to serve in personal and business travel roles. Airplanes like the Lockheed 12, Spartan Executive, Douglas DC–3, and Beech 18 were put to work; some war surplus airplanes were fitted out with fancy interiors; and even some large, plush airplanes like the Howard 500 were developed.
As for purpose-built general aviation jets, their arrival owed a lot to defense contractors with excess capacity and ingenuity, so Lockheed Corporation, North American Aviation, Grumman Corporation, and France’s Dassault Aviation became players. Cessna gave us the first of many Citations, and Bill Lear’s Learjet 23, well, it made its own history. Here are five pioneering jets that started it all.
By Thomas A. Horne
Quiet and rangy, Dwane Wallace loved aviation from a young age. In 1935 his uncle, Clyde Cessna—president of the Cessna Aircraft Company—quit aviation and sold his shares in the company to Wallace, making him president. Thus began the rise of the Cessna empire. ack then, it was built chiefly on piston singles and twins.
But the low-key Wallace felt there was a market for a new kind of business jet—one that filled the niche between the turboprop twins and the high-priced business jets of the day. This new jet should be an easy step up for turboprop drivers, simple and economical to fly, have room for four passengers, and cost around $600,000. Cessna called it the Fanjet 500 and unveiled a mock-up at the 1968 National Business Aircraft Association convention. Its first flight was in September 1969.
People thought Wallace was nuts. Cessna was a piston-airplane company (except for its T37 military trainers), and this new jet didn’t measure up to the competition—especially the sexy looking, 450-knot Lear Jet, which garnered all the press. Moreover, Wallace himself didn’t much like the airplane’s name. Virtually all previous Cessna airplanes had a three-numeral designation. “Fanjet” didn’t cut it, and there were other aircraft with the 500 name—such as the Aero Commander 500 and the Howard 500. To lead the marketing effort, Wallace hired James B. Taylor, fresh from a job selling Falcon 20s for Pan American Airways’ business jet division. Taylor suggested naming the jet the Citation, after the racehorse that won the Triple Crown in 1948. A pair of horseshoes was the graphic logo.
Taylor identified 27,000 businesses as prospective customers, plus owners of piston and turboprop twins wanting to move up to a jet, and turned the sales force loose. Seeking fresh faces and new approaches, Taylor hired sales personnel without a history in airplane sales. He also captained an 80-person marketing team.
The $695,000 price was one buying incentive. So was the airplane’s low-speed handling characteristics and short-field capabilities, thanks to its straight wings. Unlike the straight turbojets of the time, its Pratt & Whitney JT15D-1 fanjets were quiet. Other draws were standard factory-installed Collins avionics, training for two pilots and a mechanic, a computerized maintenance program, and a three-year airframe and one-year avionics warranty. Another concept—a first at the time—was a global network of Citation service centers.
For those who wavered, Taylor came up with the Citation Convincer, a mobile showroom with a full-scale mock-up of the Citation’s cockpit and cabin, a conference room, and movie and slide projectors.
To be sure, the Citation drew its share of jokes, most having to do with its speed. They were “Slo-tations,” for example, with “factory installed headwinds.” (Early Citations do have cruise speeds nearly 100 knots slower than the Lear 23.) But by the time the Citation I reached the end of its production run in 1985, some 691 airplanes had sold. Among them were Citation I/SP versions, which allowed single-pilot operations if the airplanes were fitted out with coupled autopilots, a boom microphone, and a push-to-talk switch.
In essence, Cessna had bet the company on a light jet, and won—big. It proved there was a market for light jets, and pioneered concepts that are now taken for granted—among them, single-pilot certification, simulator-based training, and strong service and support organizations, complete with go-teams for dealing with AOG (airplane on ground) situations. For these reasons and more, the first Citation ended up kicking off the most popular line of business jets in the world. And you don’t hear so many “Slo-tation” or “bird strikes from the rear” wisecracks these days. The most recent Citation, the Citation Longitude, cruises at 483 KTAS. And the fastest Citation, Citation X, can hit Mach 0.92, or 536 KTAS. —TAH
By Thomas A. Horne
At the 1963 Paris Air Show a business jet named the Mystère 20 made its debut and turned a lot of heads. It was the first business jet built by Avions Marcel Dassault-Breguet; before then, the company concentrated on fighters. Its sleek looks, big cabin, 450-knot cruise speed, 1,200-nautical-mile range, and good handling characteristics set the tone for the rest of the Falcon series to come.
Lindbergh liked what he saw and wired Pan Am President and CEO Juan Trippe with a message: “We have our plane.”ack then, Pan American World Airways was forming its own business jet sales division. It sent none other than Charles A. Lindbergh to the Paris Air Show to look over the Mystère 20. If it passed muster, Pan Am would buy in. Lindbergh liked what he saw and wired Pan Am President and CEO Juan Trippe with a message: “We have our plane.” Pan Am ordered 40 on the spot and took options on 120 more.
But Pan Am marketing executive James B. Taylor was concerned about the airplane’s name. He was afraid that Americans would confuse the airplane with Dassault’s Mystère series of fighters, or laughingly mispronounce it as “Mister 20”—or worse. Months went by as the marketing team and its advertising agency agonized over how to properly Americanize the name.
According to Taylor, one day Trippe had lunch with Henry Ford II and came back endorsing Ford’s recommendation to name the airplane after—of all things—the Ford Falcon, a then-new compact car.
The first U.S.-certified models were given the Falcon 20C name, and the DA20 (the “DA” is for Dassault) type designator. They went for $1.6 million and got off to a slow start with just 10 sales in 1965. But by the end of its production run 1989, a total of 516 Falcon 20s of various designations (the -D, -E, -F, and -5) had been delivered. It put Falcon jets on the map, paving the way for a burgeoning Dassault fleet of ever more capable, luxurious, technically advanced, and bigger business jets.
Pan Am wasn’t the only big player in the Falcon 20’s early success. Federal Express founder Frederick W. Smith used Falcon 20s when he launched his new overnight package delivery service in 1973 out of the company’s Memphis hub. To accommodate larger packages, Smith commissioned the Kansas-based Product Development Group to produce a 74.5-inch-by-55-inch forward cargo door to replace the stock entry door. Little Rock Airmotive installed the doors as well as a 20-foot-long cargo floor and other equipment, making FedEx’s mini-freighter the core element in Smith’s revolutionary concept. FedEx launched its service from 25 cities on April 17, 1973. There were only 186 packages the first night, but of course the company grew, and the FedEx fleet grew to 35 Falcon 20s before it took off to become the giant it is today.
In 1977, the U.S. Coast Guard bought 41 Falcon 20Gs to serve in surveillance roles. These came with Garrett AiResearch ATF3 turbofans, and were named HU–25A Guardians.
You’ll look hard to find any original Falcon 20Cs. The 20C’s original General Electric CF700 turbofans were too loud to meet noise requirements, so most were retrofitted with Garrett TFE731 turbofans under a Dassault service bulletin. These airplanes are designated as Falcons 20C-5, D-5, E-5, and F-5. But even these models are becoming scarce. —TAH
By Peter A. Bedell
With its rakish good looks, the original Model 23 Lear Jet burst upon the scene in 1964 when comparatively stodgy-looking Lockheed JetStars and North American Sabreliners were the only occupants in the emerging field of light jets in the United States. William P. “Bill” Lear’s vision of the light business/personal jet so infected the culture of the late 1960s and ’70s that the Lear Jet name was thrown around in celebrity circles and song lyrics, and it became synonymous with any civilian small jet.
Lear, who left school at age 14, was a talented engineer and promoter who had invented products including the 8-track tape format, the car radio, and an autopilot small enough to be practical in something smaller than a bomber or airliner. Most of his inventions bore the Lear name. Lear was intrigued by a single-engine Swiss ground-attack jet called the P–16, intending to develop a small twin-engine passenger jet based on it. He established the Swiss American Aviation Corporation and later moved it to Wichita, Kansas. The company was eventually renamed Lear Jet Corporation. Although certain design aspects of the P–16 were common with the Lear Jet—mostly in the wings and landing gear—the two airplanes bore little resemblance.
In keeping with his desire to make the Lear Jet a personal airplane, Lear limited the maximum takeoff weight to 12,500 pounds and intended single-pilot operation. The FAA did not approve single-pilot operations, which was likely a wise move as the jet would be quite a handful for a solo pilot. The 12,500-pound limit eventually made the airplane very limited in useful load. Two pilots and full fuel was about it. The follow-on Lear 24, certified via Part 25 rules, has up to a 13,500-pound maximum takeoff weight, making it a much more practical airplane than the 23.
A blessing in disguise occurred during a certification flight in 1964 with an FAA pilot in the left seat. During a single-engine takeoff, neither pilot realized the flight spoilers were still deployed following the previous flight. The airplane would not climb out of ground effect and settled into a field and burned. The crew escaped with no injuries. But what initially appeared to be a debacle for Lear turned into triumph because the cash infusion from insurance and the subsequent fast-tracking of the Lear Jet’s certification got the design into production rather than the whole company in bankruptcy.
Performance and efficiency were the hallmarks of the little Lear Jet compared to its bigger competition of the day. The two 2,850-pound-thrust General Electric CJ610 turbojets propelled the Lear 23 to altitude at more than 6,000 feet per minute following a sea-level takeoff. By today’s standards, the engines are quite inefficient and extremely noisy. These days, the few 20-series Lears flying are equipped with hush kits to make them compliant with Stage-3 noise regulations.
“For a while I held a record on the noise monitor at Teterboro of 105 dBA departing at gross weight,” former Lear 24/25 pilot Jim Burton said. “As for fuel, it burned as much in taxi as it did at FL410 doing 460 knots,” he added. Getting into the air as soon as possible was the plan with the Lear 20 series. “You taxied on one engine and started the other as you rolled up to the runup block.”
With its thirst for Jet A and an 847-gallon capacity, the Lear 23 didn’t have much range. After about 2.5 hours you’d best be rolling up to the outer marker. “I usually asked the controller if the airport of intended landing was open and all runways available before accepting a descent,” said Burton. “Once into the 20s your fuel burn doubled.”
The cockpit was cramped and got cold at high altitude. But for all the noise the Lear made on the outside, it was pretty quiet inside. Originally there was seating for six in the cabin with the back bench accommodating three across. A subsequent requirement for cockpit voice recorders in turbine airplanes with six or more passenger seats led most owners to simply remove the center seatbelt from the bench. Baggage was stored behind the aft seat, which made for awkward loading while passengers toe-tapped outside.
Lear Jet Corporation met its demise in 1966 after 101 Model 23s were made. Gates Rubber Company bought up Bill Lear’s 60-percent share in the company. Lear remained on the board until 1969 and after that it became Gates Learjet Corporation. Of course, follow-on designs have continued to build on the pioneering Lear Jet. Most notable was the Learjet 35 in 1973 utilizing the ubiquitous Garrett TFE731 fanjet, which vastly improved fuel efficiency and range, and cut overflight noise dramatically. The basic design of the Model 23 soldiered on until the clean-sheet Lear 45 emerged in the mid-1990s. Canada’s Bombardier is the latest caretaker of the Learjet brand. Sadly, it recently announced that 2021 is the end of new production for the storied brand closing out a historic chapter in general aviation.
Many referred to the Model 23 as the pocket rocket. Because of that reputation, nearly every Lear design that followed earned a reputation as being an exceptional climber with fast cruise speeds. And throughout the decades, every Lear carried forward the beautiful lines of the original Model 23 that so enamored the world nearly 60 years ago. —PAB
By Peter A. Bedell
Building it originally as a four-engine trainer/utility airplane for a U.S. Air Force contract, Lockheed began development of the JetStar in the mid-1950s. The contract was later canceled but Lockheed continued development. Famed engineer Kelly Johnson was behind the team that had a prototype built in less than a year. Only two Bristol-Siddeley Orpheus engines powered the first two prototypes, which flew in 1957. Stories vary as to why the engines were not used in production. One says the U.S. military demanded American engines, which sounds plausible except for the fact that the original contract was terminated prior to first flight. The other theory says failed negotiations with the engine supplier led Lockheed to re-engine the JetStar with four Pratt & Whitney JT12 engines mounted in pods on the aft fuselage, two engines on each side.
One former JetStar II operator quipped that locking the airplane wasn’t necessary because even those with a type rating had trouble with the complicated start procedures. Four turbines require lots of fuel, and the JetStar’s mid-wing tanks provided 4,000 pounds of fuel each to feed the beast. Combined with the wing tanks, the JetStar held a total of 18,000 pounds of fuel. Those four JT12 engines could go through 6,000 pounds per hour during the takeoff and initial climb phase of flight. Fuel was cheap and plentiful in the 1960s, but to increase range taxi was often made on just the two inboard engines until near the runway.
The JetStar had a prominent role in the movie Goldfinger, of the James Bond franchise. In fact, the villain Goldfinger meets his fate while in the JetStar, although I won’t ruin the scene by telling you how. Elvis Presley owned a JetStar and it is on display at his Graceland estate in Memphis. Hound Dog II is the little brother of Lisa Marie, a Convair 880 also on display. Bob Hope and other celebrities owned JetStars. The military eventually did get some JetStar equivalents in the form of the C–140 and VC–140, the variant that served as VIP transport for presidents Kennedy through Reagan. Those American-made engines proved useful.
From 1961 to 1978 a total of 204 JetStars were made. Overflight noise and high fuel burn led to the development of the 731 JetStar, which utilized more modern, quieter, and efficient Garrett TFE-731 turbofans. So successful was the mod that Lockheed began production of the JetStar II, incorporating the new engines and among other changes, tucking the big fuel tanks under the wing earning the name “slipper tanks.” Forty JetStar IIs were built from 1976 to 1979.
JetStar oddities include pitch trim that moved the entire empennage, similar to a Mooney. It also utilized leading-edge flaps instead of the more common slats. There was no tail deicing, but the wings used pneumatic boots for deice. Some refer to the design as “Dripstar” for the airplane’s propensity to drip fuel from its wet wings when parked. It could also dump fuel in flight, a feature usually only found on large transport jets. The maintenance access door in the belly doubled as a hydraulically actuated speedbrake in flight.
During the 1990s and beyond, the four-engine JetStar could compete with more modern twinjets because of low acquisition costs. The generous cabin size came at the expense of fuel burn. It was well liked for its stable, easy flying qualities as well. Runway performance required longer runways than most modern corporate jets but was by no means a slouch because of the four engines. A JetStar II at its 44,500-pound maximum takeoff weight required 6,500 feet of runway at sea level on a standard day. Landing at the 36,000-pound maximum landing weight required 4,170 feet.
One former JetStar II operator quipped that locking the airplane wasn’t necessary because even those with a type rating had trouble with the complicated start procedures. The operator said he typically cruised at Mach 0.76, because going faster was often limited by how much wind roar the crew could put up with. Fuel consumption was planned at 4,000 pounds the first hour and 3,000 pounds every hour after. To put the JetStar II in modern-day perspective, this operator described it as having the cabin of a Bombardier Challenger 300 with the fuel burn of a Gulfstream IV. He said the airplane had such a narrow coffin corner at its FL410 service ceiling that he only went there once. The heavy weight and high wing loading allowed the JetStar to handle turbulence well, he noted.
The last officially noted JetStar flight was made by N313JS on December 30, 2019, from Witham Field in Stuart, Florida, to the Cobb County International Airport near Atlanta so that the airplane could be displayed at a museum near the Marietta, Georgia, factory, which made most JetStars. The last unofficial flight of a JetStar can be found on FlightAware by N710RM from Conroe-North Houston Regional in Texas to Crater Lake-Klamath Regional Airport in Oregon on December 5, 2020. That airplane cruised at FL280, likely because it did not have RVSM approval to fly higher.
Peter A. Bedell is a captain for a major airline and is co-owner of a Cessna 172 and Beechcraft Baron.
By Thomas A. Horne
Students of the very light jet (VLJ) breakout in the 2000s might name the VisionAire Vantage, Eclipse 500, or Cirrus Vision Jet as pioneering examples of this latest niche in jet-powered personal/executive airplanes. But no. The first such light jet began life in France in 1953, when manufacturer Morane-Saulnier began work on its MS 755 Fleuret, a two-seat jet trainer for the French Air Force. The air force rejected the Fleuret, so Morane-Saulnier came up with an improved, four-seat version aimed at serving in a liaison role: the MS760 Paris, commonly known as the Paris Jet.
The Paris Jet was powered by two Turbomeca Marboré turbojet engines, each with 880 pounds static thrust (lbst), and capable of pushing the airplane to speeds as high as 335 knots. A 1,056-nautical-mile maximum range was advertised, but the fuel-hungry, 125-gph Marborés made quick work of the ship’s 369-gallon maximum fuel capacity—245 gallons in a fuselage tank—so the rule of thumb was to cut the advertised range in half in order to land with safe reserves. Even so, the four-seat Paris Jet could cruise in air-conditioned, pressurized style as high as 33,000 feet, and had some attractive features—such as an electrically powered, retractable canopy that could be opened in flight (or thanks to its military DNA, jettisoned altogether should the need arise), spoilers, mechanically driven flight controls, great handling characteristics, and a ramp presence that turned heads wherever it went. It was way ahead of its time, and an instant hit.
The French Air Force and Navy bought 50 airplanes, the Argentinian Air Force bought 48, and the Brazilian Air Force ordered 30. Before long, Beechcraft took a major interest, signing marketing and licensed production agreements. A 1955 North American tour showed off the Paris Jet, and some 2,100 demonstration rides were given. Much to Beechcraft’s dismay, the feedback was mixed. At the time, jet fuel was difficult to find. The seating was cramped. The baggage compartment was tiny. The thirsty Marborés meant that the Paris Jet had limited range; it couldn’t fly nonstop from New York to Chicago. On top of this, the Marborés made a deafening high-pitched whine when on the ground. And there were concerns over their reliability, so much so that trucks with spare engines and parts followed the jet around on tour. Beechcraft president and CEO Olive Ann Beech was concerned that “no self-respecting woman could ever enter this aircraft.” That’s because getting in and out of the airplane meant climbing up on the wing and then swinging one leg after another to get in the cockpit or cabin. Despite all that, Beechcraft shepherded the Paris Jet through certification, which happened in July 1958.
Although everybody wanted a ride in a sexy looking jet, only a few were inclined to buy one. The price, a steep $300,000 back then, may have been one deterrent. The two-pilot requirement could have been another. And yet, some big influencers of the day sprang for them: people like the Shah of Iran; singer/actor Frank Sinatra; and industrialist Henry H. Timken, who bought one for his wife, Louise Timken, an active World War II pilot in the Civil Air Patrol, and later, the first woman to earn a type rating in a Learjet.
Follow-on Paris Jets addressed some of the airplane’s shortcomings. The Paris Jet II was given 1,100 lbst Turbomeca Marboré VI engines and 53 more gallons of fuel capacity in wing leading edge fuel cells to boost range. Tip tanks holding another 124 gallons were an option. To fix the awkward entry and exit issue, an aft door and a fold-up ladder was added with the five-seat Paris Jet III, and the canopy eliminated.Ultimately, Beechcraft dropped its option to manufacture Paris Jets in 1961, opening the way to pursue what the company felt was a more practical alternative for turbine power. So, in this sense, the Paris Jet experience was the impetus for another pioneering design that was to emerge in 1964 and endures to this day: the King Air series of turboprop twins.
Ultimately, the Paris Jet languished as one-off models after Morane-Saulnier was boughtby manufacturer Groupe Potez, then Sud Aviation. But the last Paris Jet III, a sole copy with five seats, no canopy and an aft door, was built in 1964. In 2003, JetSet, a U.S. firm, bought the type certificate, tooling, parts, plans, and 30 remaining Paris Jets with the idea of completely upgrading the engines, airframe, and avionics, and selling them for $550,000. But the plan was never carried through. As of 2009, the company said that there were only 27 Paris Jets left in the United States. Who knows how few remain today?