Roger Allen King

Roger A. King

November 25, 1943 - September 29, 2018

Roger King, the “Leprechaun of Johnny Long Mountain,“ took wing from his Enchanted Forest home in Sandpoint, Idaho, in the quiet hours of the morning on Sept. 29. Having waged a long and valiant battle against cancer, Roger departed this world on the cusp of the season’s change.

Multi-faceted and accomplished, Roger was an aviator, inventor, engineer, boat captain, veteran, adopted son of Ireland and more. Above all else, Roger Allen King was a kind and generous spirit – a devoted friend to many and an inspiring mentor to young people.

The second son of Nellie and Howard King, Roger was born in southeastern Iowa’s coal country, in the town of Oskaloosa, and raised on his family's homesteaded farm near Bussey in Marion County. There he learned from his father, the local blacksmith, that “if it breaks, you have to fix it” and “if you don’t have the part, make one.“ An ultra curious boy with a fertile imagination, Roger was fascinated by flight, outer space and mechanical devices of all kinds –- from clocks and cameras to combustion engines. These were interests that would shape his life.

At age five, Roger began taking apart broken wind-up alarm clocks. Much to the surprise of his parents, he soon learned how to put the multitudinous parts back together, and even how to get the little clocks working. So that he could get a closer look at the awe-inspiring night sky, he built a telescope that won awards at science fair competitions throughout eastern Iowa. And, while in high school, he worked alongside the father he idolized to construct a 6-ton coal crusher.

His most amazing boyhood creation was a 4-foot tall robot capable of performing 27 independent functions. The articulated little robot was engineered out of clock gears, steel fencing, miscellaneous fittings, servomotors and electric wire; it was cleverly programmed by means of a rotary phone dial and magnetic recording tape. Even into his early 20’s, Roger continued to perfect the robot.

Airplanes were Roger’s passion, and the people he encountered in the aviation community had a powerful impact on his life. While still in high school, he saved money to pay for flying lessons and airtime, renting a Cessna 120 for $5.50 per hour, fuel included. With no provisions for college after graduating from high school, Roger got a job driving a semi-truck. The work gave him the means to purchase a brand-new 1962 Corvair, which resides in his garage to this day. Roger’s truck route included making deliveries to the Pella Tool and Stamping Company where he met the owner Lew Van Dellen. On the side, Lew was an experimental aircraft designer who had the distinction of having worked with Orville Wright. Roger and Lew forged an aviation-centered friendship that proved to be life changing. While working together on Lew’s project plane during off hours, Roger’s talents were evident, and Lew urged him to enroll in college to formally study engineering. Roger heeded his mentor’s advice.

Although he considered himself “mathematically challenged,” Roger made it through Iowa State University’s Engineering School. A teacher once told Roger that the only time his grades would matter was when interviewing for his first job out of school; from there, his accomplishments would be the only thing that mattered. Roger always remembered that.

Each summer, an engineering professor at Iowa State would hire a few students to help run his lobster-fishing business in his home country of Ireland. Proud of his own Irish heritage and game for adventure, Roger jumped at the chance to travel and take part. In 1967, between his junior and senior years, he spent the summer on the southwestern coast of Ireland driving lobster boats in the rough waters of the North Atlantic. He became a local legend by rescuing passengers from a foundering boat. On weekends, Roger would transport tourists to Skellig Michael, a towering sea crag that was once home to an ancient Christian monastery.

That summer of 1967, Roger began a romance with Ireland that was never-ending. He loved the people, music, culture and the beauty of the place. He would travel to his beloved Ireland again and again – 15 times total. His last journey was just this past July to celebrate the wedding of a young man he’d taught to fly – the young man grew up to be an airline captain.

Shortly before he graduated from Iowa State, a news article about his robot helped get him a job at the Bendix Instrument and Life Support Division in Davenport, the successor to the company that built the instruments for the Spirit of St. Louis. He considered his position there to be the job of a lifetime. He built cryogenic oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen tanks for the Apollo spacecraft and became known as “The Plumber.”  Although his tanks were of the sort featured in the Apollo 13 “Houston we have a problem” incident, Roger was proud to say that his products flew only on Apollo 14-17, the last four of the six moon landing missions. 

At Bendix he was also involved in the Viking Mars lander project, and has components of his design or fabrication, to this very day, on the surfaces of the Moon and Mars. 

After a few years at Bendix, Roger was drafted during the Vietnam era and chose to go into the U.S. Air Force. Given his mechanical prowess, he was sent to a technical school for precision photo processing. He was trained at Lowry AFB in Colorado and stationed in California, processing film from U-2 spy plane and SR-71 “Blackbird” flying missions.

Having completed four years in the military, Roger combined his design skills and his new photo expertise toward an entrepreneurial endeavor in the Minneapolis area.  He founded King Concept Corporation in 1973 to design and manufacture film processing machines that could handle negatives, slides, and prints all in the same machine.  KCC grew to 47 employees with worldwide product distribution. Roger’s machines were widely used in the U.S. military; he was proud to say that every U.S. Navy flagship carried a KCC machine. 

Roger eventually sold his company and, at the suggestion of his friend Tyke Van Dellen, Lew’s son, he moved to rural Idaho just outside of Sandpoint. In Sandpoint, Roger took on free-lance engineering problems, designed and built products for local entrepreneurs and ended up with 14 patents.

After years of flying Ultralight aircraft, Roger’s flying life changed when he met “Purple Passion”, a hand-propped, 65-horse 1946 Aeronca Chief. He flew over 50 kids locally in the Experimental Aviation Association’s Young Eagles program, and kept a logbook containing a photo and signature of each of his Young Eagles. Roger loved sharing his passion for flying and aviation lore with the youngsters.

As time passed, Roger’s fascination with clocks never left him. His last big project was designing, creating and building a stunning wall clock constructed of 2,000 individual parts. His King’s Clockworks creations keep time, but they are also beautiful examples of kinetic sculpture. This last year, Roger had numerous clock orders to fill, both in the U.S. and abroad.

His woodland property included his “Enchanted Forest,” which Roger painstakingly equipped with an epic 3-story treehouse, zipline, hand hewn tables and chairs, plus a giant stone fire pit and an original 1800's era Irish iron cooking pot. Always one to bring a broad range of people together, Roger was famous for his annual Summer and Winter Solstice parties, “Halloweenie” Roasts, End-of-the-World parties, complete with decorated tinfoil hats, plus his incomparable St. Patrick’s Day house party.

Knowing he only had a short time remaining, friends Rich and Heidi Mendive arranged for Roger to host his own "Living Wake" in the Enchanted Forest on August 25th. He wanted to gather his friends one last time in the spirited place that brought so much pleasure to him. On a few days notice, more than 80 guests showed up to express their firsthand appreciation of Roger’s life well lived. It was a fitting celebration for the Leprechaun of Johnny Long Mountain.

During his last six weeks, Roger’s good-natured manner, kindness, tolerance and humor were present for all to see. He maintained a quiet dignity and acceptance of his circumstance. Each of his caregivers and Hospice workers couldn’t help but be enamored with him. He experienced peace of mind having special friends, both near and far, in communication, plus immense joy that some were even busy in his workshop stewarding his projects. Dear friend Randy McLain worked daily on Roger’s clocks trying to learn as much as possible so that he could attempt to fill Roger’s clock orders and continue his clock-making legacy. And, after school, young friend Alex Liddiard assembled Roger’s Corvair engine. After 40 years of sitting idle, Alex and buddy Ted Farmin got the engine running. Even though he wasn’t working beside his pals, Roger took pride in their accomplishments and was comforted by their productivity and desire.

Roger was a founding member of Sandpoint chapter #1441 of the Experimental Aviation Association, plus the past president of EAA’s Spokane chapter #79 and Newport chapter #757. His affiliations also included the local Quiet Birdmen hangar and the Spokane Small Engine Builders Association. He was an enthusiastic presence until the end. His one-of-a-kind personality and collective knowledge will be greatly missed by everyone who had the pleasure to know him.

Thanks for sharing yourself with so many, Roger. You were a true gentleman. Your memory will remain in our hearts.

Should you like to pay tribute to Roger, a donation can be made in his name to EAA Chapter 1441, PO Box 1301, Sandpoint, ID 83864. Roger was a member of the EAA’s scholarship committee. Through donations they provide financial assistance to the next generation of aviators. And, next time you drink a pint of Guinness or a shot of Irish Whiskey, Roger would encourage you to raise a glass in his memory -- and to keep your ears open for a good story.