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I didn't have time to be scared -- but I do remember that left wingtip, two or three feet off the ground -- which was a ditch -- before we floated back up to settle down so nice... witnesses in the terminal were incredulous, but Dad took it in stride, as did I -- that was just Dad, everyday hero.
He got his pilot's license right after WWII on the GI Bill... so soon thereafter, the Oklahoma Highway Patrol stops him speeding, wiseacre cop says "Okay buddy where's your pilot's license?" and if memory serves, that got him out of that ticket.
Sorry George, that barb wasn't aimed at you, but God's Gift To Knowledge.
Dad never pulled any barrel rolls -- whoop-te-do's were the most I could coax out of him -- though he did recover marvelously once, just as we were touching down to refuel, and a gust of wind lifted our Cessna back off the runway, almost depositing it to the left side, except for a quick reaction. I didn't realize at the time, how close to disaster we had come.
I studied it hard when I was a kid -- then lost interest, when my vision precluded flying military aircraft -- and now I haven't flown in decades. So I won't presume to guess what happened here.
Now I think I'll find something else to do, having wasted enough of my life waiting for Pilot pages to load. It's running like molasses today.
So we're all pilots too!! How enlightening.
"Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing."
Didn't do that Skyhawk any good, however...
One great great... grandpappy was in the only Union regiment in the border State Arkansas, was shot off his horse, wounded, captured twice, escaped twice... then in a beef after the war with a pro-slavery neighbor, Grandpa ended up shooting the Sheriff -- "... and that's when the Joneses left Arkansas." (Dad)
Another great great... grandpappy caught the government's eye, by running an underground railroad of slaves to Canada, and raiding Federal facilities at Ft. Leavenworth Ks and Harpers Ferry Va -- for which he was ultimately hung... but I believe it was this second action which motivated a military response, as the Feds were afraid of an armed uprising in general.
So it's odd that I was raised prejudiced: Dad was from Oklahoma, and Mom went along... I didn't know until age 7 or so that they were anything other than the N-word -- nor that they didn't like that word -- a point which was driven painfully home, by a black girl a head taller than me, with a towel soaked in water, at the nearby pool -- and God Bless that girl!! THAT opened my eyes. I got really interested about then, went out of my way to befriend those folks.
When we visited Dad's folks in Oklahoma it was like a step back in time -- black and white restrooms, drinking fountains... they were semi-affectionately referred to as "darkies" unless it was in a worse context... I made friends with a black kid about my age, so we hung out a lot when we were down there, going roller skating, and to the movies (5 cents) where the blacks were required to sit in the balcony -- which I didn't mind; I thought the view was better anyway.
In later years both parents changed, and I like to think I helped.
While there is no doubt that economic factors played in -- and Lincoln may have usurped his authority -- the westward expansion of slavery was definitely a concern -- and the abolition of it in general is a great side attraction, to what may have been otherwise a devious or dubious event.
One of my favorite Firesign Theatre spoof TV ads goes "This is a line of Indians leaving Rancho Malario to make room for YOU."
I lost my Souix Chef at Wounded Knee.
I say just shoot 'em and eat 'em. Like bears.
Given this, he might want to reconsider me as a tenant. We'll feed it to somebody.
Last login: Monday, January 12, 2015
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