A Missed Chance

Chennault Airport in Lake Charles this week hosted a couple of vintage aircraft for public viewing. If you were willing to fork over $400, you could even take a 30 minute ride. The aircraft were only in town a few days with limited viewing hours.

I missed my chance.

I discovered late in the week that the planes were in town. I later found out they would be here for a final showing Friday morning from 9am to noon. "I'll go," I thought. It was supposed to be my day off anyway.

Nope.

About 9:30, not entirely unexpected, the carpet guys showed up. Our carpet in the house was buckling. They fixed it. They left.

I decided to do a bit of mowing. Plenty of time. My mistake.

Time got away from me. I realized noon was approaching and just said, "Oh, well, I don't want to go anyway." Sour grapes, I think. "He who hesitates..."

The reason I was so interested in this plane is due to a old book with brittle brown pages I acquired after my dad died. It was one of his. I remember reading it when we went to my grandmother's house in the summer. With little to do on long summer days there, I found that book and others like it that my grandmother kept in the bookshelf in the living room that no one is allowed to enter. (Except for Christmas.)

It is called, "Barry Blake And the Flying Fortress." It is the story of an airman in WWII who became a bomber pilot. The story begins with his entry into flight school and takes him into the south Pacific to really give it to the Japanese. The book was published in 1943, in the middle of the war. It is a nice boyhood story somewhat propagandized. Barry Blake, though he has a few scrapes, cleverly devastates the enemy. (There was a concerted effort in those days for the media to paint a picture that the war was really going better than it was- due in no small measure to American efforts.)

Nonetheless, I remember my fascination with flying, fighting, and the B-17 Flying Fortress. I think one reason I enjoyed the book so much is because it belonged to my father. He later served in the Air Force. I wonder if that book and another he had called, "Spitfire Pilot" had any influence on that choice.

Anyway, yesterday I had a chance to fulfill a boyhood dream and see a B-17 bomber up close and personal.

I missed it. I miss my father, too.