Nation: The $100 Million Skyjack

I’M going to settle the tax case today,” Arthur Gates Barkley told his wife Sue before leaving their modest home in northeast Phoenix, Ariz. The case concerned $471.78 owed to the Government in back taxes. A small amount, perhaps, to argue all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, but Barkley, an unemployed truck driver, had done just that—and lost. At the airport he gave his wife a long, lingering kiss, then boarded TWA Flight 486 for Washington, a trip he had made several times before in seeking redress of his grievances.

Flight 486 was airborne only half an hour when Barkley entered the cockpit carrying a gun, a razor, and a can of what the crew took to be gasoline. He ordered Captain Dale C. Hupe to go directly to Washington, bypassing a scheduled stop at St. Louis. The pilot signaled ahead news of the hijacking. Then came what was perhaps the most spectacular message in aviation history: Barkley was demanding that the U.S. Supreme Court have $100 million in small bills delivered to the plane upon landing. Less than four hours later, Flight 486 touched down at Dulles International Airport.

Wading in Money. TWA was waiting with a considerably lower amount: $100,750 in cash (all that two nearby banks could give TWA) in a canvas bag. Captain Billy Williams, 46, TWA’s senior international pilot, carried the money onto the plane. Williams, the hero of last October’s epic California-to-Italy skyjacking, had once again volunteered to fly a hijacker abroad if necessary, since neither of the 727’s two pilots was internationally qualified. A professional through and through, Williams is noted for keeping cool under pressure. Says TWA Captain Richard Hastings, who flew copilot on last fall’s Roman odyssey: “During the whole trip to Rome he didn’t show any emotion. He’s a pilot’s pilot who knows his job.” Once in the cockpit, he tried to calm Barkley but, said Williams, “He was very much upset when he opened the bag and saw it wasn’t $100 million. The money was all over the cockpit floor —he was wading in it. It was like a carpet.” Thoroughly angered, Barkley ordered the aircraft back into the sky.

High and Low. Oddly enough, many of the 51 passengers did not realize that they were being hijacked until they were airborne a second time. Stewardesses had explained the St. Louis flyover as being due to bad weather. Once the word got around, however, an almost party-like atmosphere prevailed. Jokes were made about “Havana tonight” or “maybe Montreal,” and drinks flowed readily. But up front the crew’s mood was grim; they were convinced of Barkley’s intent to kill himself and all those aboard.

Back in the air, he had begun acting even more irrational. Several times he had told the men in the cockpit: “When you go, you shouldn’t go alone. You should take as many people and as much money as possible. Never go alone.” When Williams asked if he could doff his jacket, Barkley replied, “Sure, might as well go down in comfort.” Still aching for his $100 million, however, he gave ground authorities one more chance to raise the cash, which was to be in 100 sacks full of bills of not less than $100 denominations placed along the runway at Dulles. Then he ordered the airplane to return to Dulles.

On the ground, TWA and FAA officials had reached the same conclusion as did the 727’s crew about Barkley’s murderous intent. Convinced that this was no hijacker to be humored, TWA President Forwood C. Wiser Jr. spoke with Dulles Airport Manager Dan Mahaney and ordered: “Don’t let that plane get off the ground again. Stop them.” Said FAA Administrator John Shaffer: “It was our moment of truth. I guess we had been talking about it so long by then that we decided to do what we did.”

Officials at Dulles lined mail sacks filled with newspapers along the runway. When the 727 landed, two airport police shot out the tires. Unaware of what had happened, Barkley ordered Williams and the flight engineer back in the cabin to open the door in preparation for picking up the money sacks. But the passengers had decided to desert the craft and were already pouring out of the emergency exits. Williams went to one of the exits, where Mahaney tossed him a .38 police special. He walked back up the aisle fully intending to shoot Barkley as the only way to save the crew. But before he could act, FBI men were on the plane.

Seeing them coming, Barkley opened fire. The FBI men shot back. “I saw his gun go off, and we jumped him immediately,” said Copilot Donald Salmonson. “Captain Hupe hit him low and I hit him high.” In the scuffle, Hupe was hit in the abdomen by a bullet before Barkley was disarmed by the pilots with the aid of the FBI. Removed to a hospital, Hupe underwent successful abdominal surgery.

Runaround. What caused Barkley, a family man with two sons, to go berserk? According to his wife, Barkley’s life began turning sour in 1963, when he lost his job as a driver-salesman with Continental Baking Co. William McCord, the bakery supervisor, said Barkley was dismissed “for failure to perform his work properly,” but others say a fistfight with a competitor was the reason. Four years later, the Internal Revenue Service further added to Barkley’s woes by suing him for $471 in back income taxes plus a penalty. He took the case to the Court of Appeals and lost, then prepared and filed his own blockbuster—a $100 million suit against IRS. Last year, after months in the courts, the Supreme Court refused to hear an appeal. “They gave him a runaround,” his wife said. “They wouldn’t even listen to him. He did it [the hijacking] to draw attention to his cause. They are letting us sit here and starve to death.” Two late-model Cadillacs, however, registered to the Barkleys, were parked outside the house even as she was speaking.