Airshow!

I admit it – I stand before you, unashamed, and declare that I am an Airport Bum! I have an official $20,000 suntan (from motoring around in the sky, pouring dollar bills through an airplane’s carburetor), subscriptions to a dozen aviation magazines, a license plate holder that proclaims “I’d rather be flying,” aviator-frame dark glasses, three flight jackets (one leather), a stack of filled pilot logbooks available for frequent reminiscing, and of course, a long, fluttery, white silk scarf. Fortunately for my marriage, my husband is as fond of aviation as I am, and we have enjoyed many pleasant hours together pursuing our passion for aircraft which can carry us into the sky at the slightest excuse for a flight.

Last summer, we decided to attend what was advertised to be the biggest, best, and most spectacular airshow in the state. It was to be held at an airport only an hour and a half flight from our home, and coincidentally, very near our daughter’s home. We could combine one passion with another – our captivating eighteen-month old granddaughter! The only glitch occurred when Mother Nature decided to rumble up some thunderstorms the day before the airshow, and we were forced to use more plebian four-wheeled ground transportation to get there. Ah, well, one can’t expect everything to be perfect.

The day of the airshow dawned cool and clear, with just a few puffy white clouds to provide a good backdrop for the aerial displays. We packed up portable chairs, sunscreen, water bottles, snacks for the granddaughter, sunglasses and hats, and headed for the airport early. Our son-in-law, the driver, had to be reminded to watch the road instead of all the exotic aircraft flying over us on the way to the airport. About 10,000 other people had the same idea as we did, so it took a little time to inch into the large field serving as a temporary parking lot.

The demonstrations were already beginning over the runway as we walked toward the viewing area. My husband gasped and pointed over some hangars which blocked our way. I looked up just in time to see a large and important-looking piece fall off of a small yellow and red airplane that was flying “low and slow” above the runway. The pilot seemed unconcerned, though we could hear an announcer’s voice rise several octaves in excitement over the loudspeaker. By the time we passed through the gate, the little plane was sedately taxiing by the crowd, the pilot waving nonchalantly out the cockpit window. We later discovered his secret: he fastened extra control surfaces to his airplane and released them by pulling on cords in the cockpit, then pretended to make a death-defying emergency landing. A little airshow humor…

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