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In 1958 I worked for a crop dusting firm. This is where I learned to use a Spanish typewriter (quite different). Across the hall from my office was a farm office and the two girls working there and myself took turns going on trips when one of the private plane had to make a trip. It was my turn. They had to take two pilots on the other side of the Guadalupe Mountains to pick up two crop dusters from a cotton gin. We went in a four place Cessna plane. As we were landing at the gin, which was at the base of the mountain) we ground looped. Sometimes if you go into a wind tunnel when landing in a small plane (as we were in) it flips the plane. We lost one wing, the windshield popped ou and when the pilot opened his door it fell off. I could not get my door open nor could I get the seat belt off. One of the pilots behind me cut the belt with his pocket knife. All four of us got out without any one hurt. All of us were pretty scared because we had enough aviation fuel for the two planes we were picking up. It was in the luggage compartment. Not knowing if it might explode we
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