The high-flying history of the supersonic Concorde aircraft in Alaska

Part of a continuing weekly series on Alaska history by local historian David Reamer. Have a question about Anchorage or Alaska history or an idea for a future article? Go to the form at the bottom of this story.

The silvery, sleek jet looked incongruous as it touched down on the snowy runway at Fairbanks, the future arriving at a place in love with the past. It was 1974, when Richard Nixon resigned and Hank Aaron broke a home run record. It was the Concorde, still two years away from passenger service. In this year, the supersonic airliner had a fleeting intersection with Alaska, altogether brief but nonetheless memorable for Alaskans and a key role in the history of the plane itself.

In many ways, we, as a society, take airplanes for granted. Too often, we have expectations rather than appreciation of time and distance minimized for our convenience rather than as the end result of technological innovation over decades. The planes themselves become mere tools — flying buses, transports, weapons — in that we recognize them for their purpose rather than as achievements in and of themselves.

For most Americans, airplane designs blur into a few broad categories, like airliners or fighter jets. To the great dismay of pilots, enthusiasts, and undoubtedly many Alaskans, the general passenger rushing the boarding line at the Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport would need a textbook, several Wikipedia pages, and a guide to tell the difference between a Boeing 707 and a Boeing 787. The next time you drive past Merrill Field with a non-aviation-connected associate, feel free to test this reality by quizzing them on the makes and models parked or flying by.

That said, a few aircraft designs so exceeded the norm that they captured the public imagination and were more widely identifiable, at least in their heyday. The Lockheed Constellation was a symbol of grace and innovation in air travel. The bleeding edge of military aircraft have made the crowds ooh and aah for decades, from the Supermarine Spitfire to the SR-71 Blackbird to the B-2 Spirit stealth bomber.

Among those more publicly recognizable aircraft was the Franco/British-produced supersonic Concorde airliner. With its bent nose that drooped down for landing visibility and long, delta-winged silhouette, it seemed ripped from the fanciful concept drawings that adorned magazines like Popular Science, if not directly from science fiction. It was the rare aircraft design that captivated the entire world. Moreover, the Concorde dripped of luxury. Its wine cellars, exorbitant fuel costs, celebrity passengers, and a general feeling of unattainability for the common folk fostered an elite mystique that has lingered long after the airplane was retired.

Of course, it was also fast, with a maximum cruising speed of more than twice the speed of sound. As Concorde flight attendant Joe Cuddy noted, “When you were traveling at twice the speed of sound, by the time you poured a glass of Champagne you’d gone 26 miles.” Richard Westray, a Concorde pilot, said, “People always ask me what is was like to fly Concorde, and I’ve always equated it to being a bus driver given a Ferrari to go and play with.” One of the initial Concorde pilots, Jean Franchi, declared, “Once you’ve flown it, other planes could seem very obsolete.”

However, in the United States and several other countries, the Concorde was banned from flying at supersonic speeds due to the noise from sonic booms.

The Concorde first came to Alaska, its most memorable visit to the state, in early 1974. On Feb. 7, a French crew landed in Fairbanks after a five-hour flight from Toulouse in southern France over the North Pole, with a refueling stop in Keflavik, Iceland. A regular commercial jet would have taken 12 hours to complete the same trip. Hundreds of locals, from a sixth grade class to military officials, turned out to see the silver jet in the most unlikely of settings. Betty Long of Fairbanks told the Anchorage Daily Times, “I just looked around and there it was — touching down; it’s just a beautiful thing to see.” Longtime Alaska bush pilot Sam White offered a very longtime Alaska bush pilot description. “It looks too big to fly, but I guess it did it. It made it here.”

The Concorde was, appropriately enough, in Alaska to conduct cold weather testing, which is about as simple as it sounds. The plane was soaked in water and allowed to sit for a few days in order to test the impact on the engines, flight controls, brakes, hydraulic system, landing gear, and passenger comfort, which the plane passed with nearly flying colors. The chief test pilot, Andre Turcat, told the Daily News that the Fairbanks winter surpassed his expectations. “We wanted temperatures of 20 degrees below zero for the testing, but we got 45 below. The only trouble we had was a nose wheel that froze and had to be worked on. If we hadn’t gotten it free, we might have had to wait until spring to take off from Fairbanks.”

The Concorde that landed in Fairbanks was then one of only five in existence, including an early prototype secured in a museum and another iteration fresh off the assembly line. The team accompanying the jet included high-ranking officials from Air France, British Airways, Rolls Royce, and several other companies that manufactured various parts of the airliner. The FAA also tested the noise levels generated by the plane.

Wien Air Alaska provided support services, including hanger space and its Fairbanks offices as a base of operations. The Concorde spent most of its time in Alaska undergoing testing on the ground. So, rather than a jet above majestic mountains, the more iconic image of the Concorde in Alaska was of the 204-foot-long supersonic airliner with its elongated nose peeking through hangar doors below the Wien logo.

Beyond even an airport parking space, Wien went above and beyond in its brief partnership with the Concorde team. An Air France flight of mechanics and engineers en route to Fairbanks was forced down at Thule, Greenland, unable to continue. Wien dispatched a 737 to perhaps the most unlikely destination in its company history, retrieving the staff and their equipment. As no Wien plane or crew had ever made that flight before, they spent most of a day poring over charts before takeoff. As Wien pilot Ed Steger stated, “It wasn’t like flying to Bethel.”

On Feb. 15, the Concorde made its first landing in Anchorage. Around 1,500 hardy residents braved near-blizzard conditions to look at the supersonic airliner. The jet did an aerial tour of Anchorage for 15 minutes, touched down at the airport, then lifted off again after only 10 seconds at the end of the runway, a pre-arranged prank for the onlookers. The aircraft circled the Inlet before returning for a proper landing.

Bob Reeve, owner of Reeve Aleutian Airways, was among that crowd. Regarding his own operation, he told the Daily News, “We’ve got 16 different kinds of aircraft that we use. I buy them surplus and wring the rest of their good flying hours out of them.” As for the Concorde, “I’ll wait a few years and maybe try to buy them surplus.”

Among the kids out of school for Fur Rendezvous were various dignitaries, and city, national, and corporate VIPs, all wanting their peek, tour, or even jaunt on the needle-nosed airplane. From Anchorage, the Concorde took representatives from various airlines on a complimentary three-hour roundtrip flight to the Aleutians via Vancouver, with a gourmet five-course meal to keep them busy. The geometry of the itinerary allowed the jet to go supersonic after leaving Canadian airspace.

Greater Anchorage Area Borough Mayor Jack Roderick was the only local politician aboard that trip. From his perspective, the difference in speed was barely noticeable from the inside. He noted, “In fact, the only way we really knew we were going faster than sound was the sign that read Mach 1.” When a jet goes supersonic, the sonic boom travels behind and away from the airplane. To combat the anticlimactic passage through the sound barrier, the designers installed Mach signs inside the cabin that lit up once the jet reached supersonic speeds. Roderick stated, “The only sound difference is that the wind really gets noticeably loud. I found I had to talk a lot louder when we started approaching March II.” He was perhaps referring to the afterburners required for transonic acceleration. After the tour, the Concorde returned to Fairbanks, notably with Sen. Mike Gravel aboard for his turn in the sensation.

On Feb. 18, the Concorde left Fairbanks for what many, if not most, Alaskans likely considered a final departure. Still, there was some hope for more. Concorde pilot Jean Franchi hinted that the routes under consideration included a Britain to Japan flight over the North Pole with a stop in Anchorage. British Overseas Airways Corp., which became British Airways in 1974, had initiated a London to Osaka via Anchorage service in 1969. And British Airways was, with Air France, one of the two airlines that ordered Concordes; however, the dream of more regular visits was not to be.

The ambitious Concorde project survived a lengthy, troubled development rife with engineering riddles and cost overruns. Even there, the supersonic airliner was an unqualified success compared to its competition, an abandoned Boeing concept, and the more tragic Soviet Tupolev Tu-144, which was briefly used in passenger service, from 1977 to 1978. Yet, for all its pomp and flash, the Concorde struggled for relevance and profitability as time passed, the further it got from its fantastical early flights. Its passenger service lifespan ran from 1976 through its 2003 retirement.

Still, the Concorde did make a few more return visits to Anchorage. On Oct. 23, 1974, one of the jets left San Francisco, stopped in Anchorage for an hour, then continued on to Los Angeles. This flight was another showcase meant to impress dignitaries from assorted airlines into actually buying some of the aircraft. The flight path between San Francisco and Anchorage allowed the jet to travel at supersonic speeds, slowing down about a hundred miles out from Anchorage.

The Concorde returned to Anchorage for a weekend in July 1988, though the days of free flights for dignitaries were long gone. Twelve years after its first proper passenger service and 14 years since it first visited Anchorage, the Concorde was still a sensation. Hundreds watched from the fences, and the airport built temporary wooden stands to hold them. Opportunistic hustlers sold T-shirts printed for the occasion. At the center of it all, the reason for the visit, was the chance to ride the plane itself. For a mere $985, roughly $2,500 in 2024 money, anyone could ride the Concorde on a two-hour loop out over the ocean and back to Anchorage, just enough time to eat some complimentary caviar and break the sound barrier. People canceled vacations, called in favors, or perhaps took out loans. At about $8.20 a minute, or about $21 in 2024 dollars, the local newspapers gently mocked the passengers for paying so much for a ‘flight to nowhere.” But those few have the memories, and nearly everyone else does not.

Key sources:

Allen, Cathy. “Alaska May Be On Concorde Routes.” Anchorage Daily Times, February 9, 1974, 1.

Andrews, Clinton. “Wien Flight Helps Concorde Crew.” Anchorage Daily Times, February 11, 1974, 4.

Bachelor, Blaine. “Celebrity Passengers and Caviar at 55,000 Feet: What It Was Like to Fly Concorde in the ‘70s.” Condé Nast Traveler, June 4, 2021.

“Elusive Big Jet Plays Prank on Waiting Fans.” Anchorage Daily Times, February 15, 1974, 1.

“Fairbanks Crowd Hails Sleek Concorde’s Visit.” Anchorage Daily Times, February 7, 1974, 2.

Jones, Sally W. “The Concorde Drops In for an Encore.” Anchorage Daily News, October 24, 1974, 1, 2.

Parker, Dave. “British-French Concorde Charms Anchorage Crowd.” Anchorage Daily News, February 16, 1974, 2.

Postman, David. “$985 Flight Takes You Nowhere, But What a Trip.” Anchorage Daily News, July 10, 1988, A-1, A-12.

Snapp, Tom, and Sallie Latimer. “Cold Weather Brings Fairbanks Rare Delight: The Concorde.” Pioneer All-Alaska Weekly, February 15, 1974, 1, 8.