Everybody likes the Piper Cub. After all, what's not to like? You want comfort? Try getting comfortable in a Cub. You want quiet? Just listen to that rampaging 65-horsepower Continental four-banger. You want speed? Head off on a cross-country in a J-3 with any kind of a headwind. But, hey, the Cub is cute, personable, perky, and for decades it epitomized what the non-flying public meant when they said "light plane." And there's that old Cub Mystique.

The basic J-series Cubs are old, but certainly not forgotten. There are some folks at a little airport in Saginaw, Texas, who like everything about Piper's petite yellow puddle-jumper. People who have slowed down in the midst of hectic careers to turn the local Cub-cultism into a business, a family affair, and a brotherhood of like-minded souls. People who think that cruising at 75 miles-per-hour is just about right.

So, just where is Saginaw?

Saginaw, Texas, the kind of town where word-of-mouth is still the best advertising, is one of a string of compact bedroom communities that wrap around bustling Fort Worth. The Saginaw Airport (F04) is nestled on the north side along the town's main east-west artery, between a city park and a major grocery store, just southeast of the town's water tower. Acres of grass surround its parallel turf and paved runways and its three rows of T-hangars. The airport huddles precariously almost under the final approach to Fort Worth's Meacham Field, just a stone's throw from NAS Fort Worth JRB (most locals still call it Carswell AFB), and just beyond the lateral limits of the control zone for Ross Perot Jr.'s Alliance Airport.