The field next door has a story of its own. Hensley had been an army airfield since the 1920s, on land the city of Dallas bought and leased to the Army in 1928. In May 1941 the Navy commissioned a reserve aviation base on part of it, and somebody looked at the map, counted the hundreds of miles of dry country between that runway and the nearest ocean, and started calling it the Prairie Navy. The name stuck. What came through it is the strange part: fleet pilots and Marines, Coast Guard, the WAVES — the women who enlisted for emergency service and kept the place running — a contingent of Free French forces a long way from France, and three men who would later leave the atmosphere entirely. By the end of the war the field held 4,104 people.
The fighter gets the posters, but the airplane the prairie built most was the trainer. The T-6 was so widely flown it answered to three names — Texan to the Army, SNJ to the Navy, Harvard to the British Commonwealth — and crews on every continent called it the Pilot Maker. It wasn't built to fight; it was built to teach, a fast, honest, unforgiving airplane, and nearly every American pilot of the war learned the feel of one before he learned anything else. Nearly thirteen thousand of them came off this one line.
Why People Visit Grand Prairie, Texas
People come for the central Metroplex location and the mix of prairie, lakes, and live racing — and stay curious about an aviation heritage most visitors never expect from a city between Dallas and Fort Worth. It is flat, friendly, and in the middle of everything, with a long horizon and a longer memory than its suburbs suggest.
