A dead stick landing and a chance encouter with Hal Shevers
At about 1,500 feet hawking the wind sock to determine my landing runway. The UNICOM frequency was quiet and I saw no other planes in the pattern. I turned away to re-enter on a 45 degree downwind. As I banked back to the field came a startling assault of silence. The engine quit—politely and with no shudder—it simply stopped running. I was a glider.