Jones gets less respect from his former fellow pilots in the 93rd Tactical Fighter Squadron, a reserve unit flying out of Homestead Air Force Base. Maj. Alan Estis, a reservist who flies for an airline and who was slated to become the squadron’s next commander, told NEWSWEEK that he just resigned from the air force because he did not want to work for Jones. Most other pilots would not speak out publicly, but they gave NEWSWEEK copies of flight records and official memorandums clearly showing that senior officers in his squadron regarded Jones as an unsafe flier with an attitude problem.
The tricky question is what role race played in Jones’s tour as a pilot in the reserve. Though racial integration in the military is generally considered a success story, many blacks and whites–especially those competing for promotions in elite units–still regard each other warily. Many blacks feel quietly discriminated against, and believe that they must outperform whites just to be treated equally. Many whites complain–privately–that they cannot criticize blacks for fear of being accused of racism, a career killer.
These different perceptions are at the heart of the controversy over Daryl Jones. More than once he has complained that he had to outperform other pilots. ““I was held to a higher standard,’’ Jones told The Miami Herald on Oct. 11. ““I was the first black in the unit, and so far the only.’’ To NEWSWEEK, Jones insisted that his ““higher standard’’ has ““nothing to do with race,’’ but rather was a personal standard of excellence. His fellow pilots, however, insist that he was talking about racial discrimination–““higher standards is a goddamn code word,’’ said one. His mates say Jones routinely, if subtly, played the race card. ““He Johnnie Cochran’d us,’’ said one.
““It’s character assassination,’’ protests Pentagon spokesman Ken Bacon. He compared Jones to Achilles and the other pilots to ““jealous’’ Greeks. There is no question that Jones’s critics are out to stop him from becoming air force secretary. But they probably will not succeed; after some grilling by the Senate Armed Services Committee, Jones is likely to be confirmed. Jones has the political skills to be a good service secretary, a civilian job with responsibility for budgets, recruitment and training, but not combat operations. But the underlying tensions that divided Jones from his fellow pilots are dangerous in a combat unit, and they are hardly unique to the 93rd fighter squadron.
No one doubts that Jones was competent flying F-4 fighters as an active-duty pilot in the early ’80s. Staying on in the reserves after law school, Jones, who held the rank of captain, wanted to step up to the newer–and more challenging–F-16. Jones was immediately resented by his squadron mates as an undeserving product of affirmative action. All the other new pilots coming into the 93rd in 1989 had thousands of hours of flying time in F-16s; Jones had none. Although the 93rd squadron–““the Makos’’–is a reserve unit, its fliers–typically commercial-airline pilots–do not regard themselves as mere weekend warriors. They solemnly speak of being ““combat ready.’’ The senior officers believed that Jones, who was busy running for the state legislature at the time, was distracted. ““Daryl was completely unprepared for the ride,’’ wrote Col. Thomas Dyches, the Makos’ chief of evaluation who is a full-time reservist, in a ““memo for record’’ on Jan. 24, 1990. ““More worrisome . . . is his totally defensive attitude towards constructive criticism. He seems to have an excuse for everything.''
Jones tried to go over Dyches’s head to protest his poor grades. In March, Jones took the unusual step of writing Dyches’s superior, squadron commander Allan Poulin, now a reserve general. Jones argued that he was able to meet the standard for flight leader in the squadron, but added, ““I also believe, however, that the standard required of Daryl Jones (perhaps unconsciously imposed) is much higher. I do not object to this. Such has been the case my entire life. I was naive to expect any different treatment here.’’ After seeing a copy of the letter, Dyches called Jones in and told him he ““perceived the letter as a very thinly veiled accusation of racial discrimination.’’ According to a Dyches memo to record, Jones told Dyches ““he had seen two black pilots lose their flying positions in the past, and that he wanted to protect himself.’’ Dyches wrote, ““My opinion is that Daryl is trying to use the threat of a racial-discrimination incident or action as a lever to get what he wants. He hopes to intimidate me, and possibly others, by having the threat hang over my head.’’ Dyches was not alone in this perception. Jones’s instructor pilot, reserve Maj. Chris Pate, told NEWSWEEK: ““That’s exactly what we all felt. It’s just the way Jones carried himself. He thought we were a bunch of racists.’’ Jones told NEWSWEEK that he has no recollection of the conversation with Dyches.
Jones continued to fly erratically. He scraped the tail of his $20 million fighter four times and once nearly ran out of gas–and was accused of trying to cover up his negligence. After one shaky flight, Estis confronted Jones and called him ““inept.’’ According to Estis, Jones threatened, ““Don’t mess with me.’’ (Jones says he has no recollection of the incident.) Under pressure from his superiors, Jones finally agreed to stop flying in August 1991 and to take a ground job supervising logistics. ““He was going to kill himself or somebody else,’’ says Lt. Col. Dave Eastis, a reservist who is the squadron’s operations officer. (Jones’s resume continued to call him an F-16 pilot; Jones blamed ““staff error’’ for the oversight.) After using his political power to help save Homestead from the budget ax in 1994, Jones talked to the squadron commander about returning to flying. The other pilots voted overwhelmingly to keep him on the ground.
In an interview with NEWSWEEK, Jones said he was ““puzzled’’ by the opposition from his squadron mates. He clearly did not want to engage in an open feud with his detractors. As a legislator, Jones is known for shrugging off criticism. Indeed, he is regarded by other blacks as someone who does not try to guilt-trip whites. ““I’ve crossed Jones’s path numerous times over the years, and he has never displayed a trace of victim’s mentality,’’ wrote Miami Herald columnist Roger Steinback. ““If anything, his record of accomplishment would qualify him as the anti-victim personified. Steinback argued that Jones had every reason to feel discriminated against as the lone black pilot in his squadron. ““Jones’s insinuation that black Americans are frequently held to stricter standards isn’t paranoia. It’s reality. Missteps and errors by black people usually carry magnified significance, and they are more reluctantly forgiven.’’ Jones’s squadron mates bitterly deny any charge of racism. They insist there is only one standard for flying F-16s and that Jones failed to meet it. Jones’s ego (he likes to compare himself to Michael Jordan) hardly makes him exceptional, say his mates, who acknowledge that swelled heads are common among fighter jocks. What set Jones apart was his perceived unwillingness to take criticism. Fighter pilots say they have to be able to trust each other, and they clearly didn’t trust Jones. A clash of personalities may be to blame, but so, sadly, is race.
