Flying III. At the Airport opus 112
| 3 June 2023 1430 Hours | | Flying, Massachusetts, Youth |
I dreamed of flying all through my childhood--
First, by having actual wings which were a part of my body musculature,
Followed by a more realistic bonding with actual flying machines.
Growing older--10 or 12--I often asked my father
About the many stories I heard him tell concerning testing, the terrible 'bends',
And the triumphs and manufacture of his war-time inventions.
(My father did a great deal of business flying--
Let alone, having designed the oxygen mask and other related equipment
For higher flights--41,000 feet--by our pilots during WWII,
Who were assaulted from above by--for a while--Axis pilots.)
As a result of hearing all this past history during my youth,
I wanted to see real aircraft and thus one day,
Departed with my father to the Boston Logan International Airport to watch planes!
There was a long viewing ramp along the roof
On which I roamed from area to area--
Following all the arrivals and departures of every airline--a thrill a moment!
I could have wandered back and forth forever,
But there was always that time to go home.