[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 162 (2016), Part 4]
[Senate]
[Pages 5363-5365]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                      RECOGNIZING BORDER AIR LTD.

  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, you don't have to look too far in Vermont 
to find any number of unique businesses. One such business is Border 
Air Ltd., led by its owner Cliff Coy. Cliff is the airport manager and 
unofficial ``aviation ambassador'' at the Franklin County State Airport 
in Swanton, VT. He also owns and runs Border Air Ltd., a maintenance 
and restoration company. He purchased Border Air Ltd. in 2007 from his 
father, George, who founded the company in 1989. Border Air specializes 
in restoring Soviet-era aircraft and is one of only five companies in 
the country with the qualifications to sell, maintain, and inspect 
them.
  In addition to providing many services for the aviation enthusiasts 
who call Franklin County home, Border Air imports and exports planes to 
and from former Soviet nations, a practice that began after the senior 
Mr. Coy took a trip to Lithuania in 1989. George Coy heard of an 
Antonov An-2, the largest single-engine biplane ever built, which had 
just been restored and was listed for sale. In spite of a major 
malfunction while crossing the Black Sea with the An-2, the Coys were 
hooked on the idea of importing similar aircraft and selling them to 
American pilots.
  Since then, over 300 planes have passed through Border Air's hangars,

[[Page 5364]]

some purchased by customers as far as Chicago. Through their work with 
pilots and aviation enthusiasts across the world, the Coy family has 
brought business to Swanton and helps to keep citizens safe by 
inspecting planes once a year to ensure they are up to Federal Aviation 
Administration safety codes. Though safety is most important, Cliff Coy 
also aims to inspire a love of flying in children and adults across the 
country by bringing students from nearby Missiquoi Valley Union High 
School to the airport to watch air show practices or speaking with 
anyone interested in planes from flying to skydiving.
  The Coys represent an entrepreneurial spirit that is at the heart of 
Vermont. In Cliff Coy, we see a true commitment to and leadership with 
the community.
  I ask unanimous consent that the April 14, 2016, article from Seven 
Days entitled ``Border Air in Swanton Keeps Imported Planes Alive,'' 
which chronicles the Coys' history with Border Air Ltd., be printed in 
the Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                    [From Seven Days, Apr. 14, 2016]

           Border Air in Swanton Keeps Imported Planes Alive

                            (By Ken Picard)

       A stiff snow squall swirls around the main building at 
     Franklin County State Airport in Swanton as a large, twin-
     engine turboprop prepares to roll out of the hangar. Airport 
     manager Cliff Coy watches silently as the King Air B200 revs 
     its engines with a high-pitched whine and slowly inches its 
     way onto the tarmac.
       The plane's wingtips are upturned for improved aerodynamics 
     and fuel efficiency. It's just a fringe benefit that the 
     design also allows the plane to squeeze through the hangar 
     door.
       ``That's a 58-foot wingspan going through a 60-foot 
     opening,'' Coy notes with a bemused smile. Once the wings 
     clear the sides, he flashes a quick thumbs-up to his 
     mechanic, Dan Marcotte, who's directing the pilot from the 
     tarmac.
       Unlike busy commercial hubs, such as Burlington 
     International Airport, Franklin County State Airport doesn't 
     have its own air traffic control tower. Many planes that use 
     this runway lack radios, lights or onboard electrical 
     systems.
       The 46-year-old Coy wears many hats at this small, state-
     owned airstrip that's just a hop from the Canadian border. 
     Besides managing the airport, he's the owner of Border Air 
     Ltd., which was founded by his father, George Coy. As an FBO, 
     or fixed-base operator, Border Air performs various functions 
     for the flying public: fueling, inspection, maintenance, 
     flight training, and providing hangar and tie-down space for 
     parking aircraft. Coy calls its headquarters ``a cross 
     between a boat launch and a state park--and I'm the guy 
     wearing the green shirt and the hat.''
       Beyond Coy's official duties, he's the airport's unofficial 
     ``aviation ambassador,'' which involves more than just 
     greeting white-knuckled travelers when they land safely in 
     inclement weather. Coy is Franklin County's go-to guy for 
     anyone who's interested in learning more about airplanes, 
     whether that means fixing them, flying them, building them or 
     jumping out of them with parachutes.
       And, with fuel prices at historic lows, interest in 
     aviation is soaring. That's not readily apparent on the 
     morning I visit: Aside from the departing turboprop, about 
     the only thing moving on the airfield is a semierect orange 
     wind sock. But, according to Coy, KFSO--the airport's Federal 
     Aviation Administration abbreviation--is usually more active.
       ``This is the busiest airport in Vermont for general 
     aviation,'' he says, referring to noncommercial and 
     nonmilitary air traffic. ``Come out here in six weeks on a 
     Saturday, and this place will be humming with airplanes.''
       Those planes aren't just local flyers. In recent years, Coy 
     has carved out a unique niche for himself in the wider world 
     of aviation: He imports and exports planes to and from Russia 
     and other former Soviet-bloc countries. One of only five 
     companies in the country with the expertise to sell, service 
     and inspect Soviet-era planes, Border Air also maintains, 
     repairs and modifies them--an unusual specialty that Coy fell 
     into almost by accident.
       Coy got his degree in mechanical engineering from Vermont 
     Technical College and studied computer science and physics at 
     the University of New Mexico. Then, as he puts it, he faced 
     an important life choice: ``Am I going to spend the rest of 
     my life in front of a computer screen, under bad fluorescent 
     lighting? Or am I going to solve problems out in the field 
     and get dirty?''
       Coy began answering that question in 1988. That year, his 
     uncle Bob, who was working on a sister-city exchange program, 
     offered Coy a chance to travel to the Soviet Union after an 
     injury forced a student in the program to drop out at the 
     last minute.
       Coy jumped at the opportunity--and not merely to see the 
     Soviet Union as it began to open up to the West. Coy's 
     father, George, himself a pilot and flight mechanic, was 
     keenly interested in a Russian-built aircraft called the 
     Antonov An-2. The 1,000-horsepower, 12-passenger plane is the 
     world's largest single-engine biplane ever built. As Coy 
     recalls, his father ``became infatuated with it and 
     absolutely had to have one.''
       While that trip offered the chance to see an An-2 
     firsthand, the Coys wouldn't get their hands on one until 
     1989, when George Coy learned that a company in Lithuania had 
     a freshly overhauled An-2 for sale. As the Soviet Union 
     neared its collapse, the Eastern Bloc countries were becoming 
     like the Wild West, Cliff Coy recalls, with everything being 
     sold off at bargain-basement prices. ``So he strapped a pile 
     of cash to a belt and flew out to Lithuania to go look at an 
     airplane,'' says Cliff.
       Since George didn't speak Lithuanian, and all the 
     instrumentation was in Russian, the sellers taught him how to 
     fly the plane. Convinced it was worth the investment, the 
     Coys hired a Russian pilot and a farmer from Shelburne to 
     help fly the An-2 back to Vermont.
       Like many aviation adventures, Cliff Coy says, theirs began 
     with a mechanical malfunction: The plane lost all of its oil 
     above the clouds during a night crossing of the North Sea.* 
     As he recalls, ``The Russian pilot knew very few words of 
     English, and two of them were `Very bad!'''
       The An-2 managed to run for another half hour without oil 
     before landing safely. Despite the mishap, the trip stoked 
     the Coys' interest in importing more Russian and Eastern 
     European planes--such as two aerobatic trainer planes called 
     Yakovlev Yak-52s that they'd seen in Lithuania. Sensing a 
     business opportunity, the Coys began importing Russian and 
     Eastern Bloc planes to the U.S. for American buyers.
       Since 1989, Border Air has imported more than 300 such 
     aircraft, including a Yak-55, which is currently under repair 
     in the hangar in Swanton. With only about 250 Yak-52s still 
     actively flying in the United States, Coy has loyal clients 
     who fly to Swanton from as far west as Chicago to get their 
     planes serviced.
       What's the plane's appeal? For one thing, Coy points out, 
     Yak-52s closely resemble World War II fighter planes. And, 
     given the Soviets' efficient engineering, he adds, ``You're 
     basically able to maintain it out in a farmer's field with a 
     flathead screwdriver and a wrench. So they're incredibly 
     rugged and inexpensive.''
       The Coys pretty much stopped importing Russian aircraft in 
     2005, when the dollar-to-Euro exchange rate made them 
     prohibitively expensive. The sale price of the Yak-52, for 
     example, jumped from $120,000 to $380,000.
       In 2007, Coy bought Border Air from his father. These days, 
     much of his business has reversed direction--it involves 
     moving planes and pilots from the U.S. to Russia instead of 
     vice versa.
       In the Soviet era, the only Russians who flew planes were 
     military pilots; when the country opened up civil aviation, 
     many Russians became interested in flying American aircraft. 
     Until the Russian ruble crashed last year, Border Air was 
     exporting about two containers of American-made planes to 
     Russia every three months.
       Recent changes overseas have brought a whole new crop of 
     flyers to Swanton. In 2011, a wave of bad aviation accidents 
     in Russia killed scores of people. Putting the blame on 
     pilots who had obtained their licenses fraudulently, the 
     Russian government closed flight schools across the country.
       The virtual shutdown of civil aviation in Russia could have 
     sent Coy's business into a tailspin. But then Russians began 
     coming to the United States--including the flight school in 
     Swanton--to obtain pilot's licenses. Apparently placing 
     greater trust in American flight schools than in its own, the 
     Russian government converts U.S. pilots' licenses into 
     Russian ones, Coy says.
       Just as Coy is explaining the process, two Russian men with 
     crew cuts and black coats pass en route to a small trainer 
     plane to begin their flight lessons. According to Coy, 
     they're former Russian fighter pilots who are logging flight 
     time and learning to fly in U.S. airspace. ``There's a bit of 
     a mind shift when you go from flying something at 300 miles 
     per hour to flying something at 60 miles per hour,'' he says.
       Of course, not all of Coy's work involves Russians and 
     Russian planes. As an FAA-licensed inspector, he ensures that 
     the aircraft he encounters are flightworthy. By law, every 
     aircraft, from a commercial Boeing 777 to the one-seat 
     Ultralight hanging from the hangar rafters, must be inspected 
     annually.
       ``I've seen things where you wonder how these people even 
     made it here alive,'' Coy says. ``Unbelievably scary stuff.''
       For example, he recalls encountering a pilot who reported 
     that his plane was flying funny When Coy checked it out, he 
     noticed that the bottom of the fuselage was blue--from the 
     dye used to identify aircraft fuel. Coy instantly spotted the 
     problem: The fuel line wasn't hooked up. When he went to 
     adjust the propeller control, it broke off in his

[[Page 5365]]

     hand. Next, he discovered that the starboard engine wasn't 
     bolted onto the frame and the landing gear wasn't installed 
     correctly. The result: a 60-page report to the FAA.
       Getting people passionate and up in the air is Coy's 
     mission. And, notwithstanding the back issues of Cigar 
     Aficionado in the airport waiting room, he says he meets a 
     diverse cross-section of people who are aviation enthusiasts.
       Granted, it's not a cheap hobby: The costs of purchasing 
     and maintaining airplanes may seem daunting enough to 
     dissuade anyone without a seven-figure trust fund. But, Coy 
     points out, most people who fly these days rent their planes. 
     (Coy himself doesn't own one.) And enthusiasts who decide to 
     take the next step can buy a plane for as little as $15,000, 
     on par with the price of a boat.
       Coy does a lot of outreach to local schools, hoping to get 
     the next generation interested in flying. Sometimes that 
     means showing the kids his various ``museum pieces''--the 
     historic aircraft parked in various hangars on the airfield. 
     Or he'll invite students from nearby Missisquoi Valley Union 
     High School to watch his mechanic, Marcotte, practice his 
     air-show maneuvers during his lunch hour. (Burlingtonians 
     know Marcotte as the pilot who flies acrobatic stunts over 
     the waterfront before the annual July 3 fireworks show.)
       ``Look, if you have any interest in flying, we'll take you 
     for a ride in an airplane,'' Coy says. ``That's what we do, 
     because we want to get people interested in flying.''
       *Correction, April 14, 2016: An earlier version of this 
     story misreported Coy's age--it is 46. The body of water over 
     which Coy's plane experienced engine trouble was the North 
     Sea, not the Black Sea. Additionally, aviation enthusiasts 
     can buy a plane for $15,000, not the higher number originally 
     reported.

  (At the request of Mr. Reid, the following statement was ordered to 
be printed in the Record.)

                          ____________________