Flying
Flying was quite a novel thing when I was
growing up. I remember my father taking me to the airport
in College Park one Sunday afternoon to watch small planes
take off and land. This airport was to become Hartsfield
Airport one of the largest in the country.
I can remember when very few airplanes passed over Fayette
County. This was before airplanes had jet engines and
before they flew at such high altitudes. The old planes
flew relatively low and had noisy engines. So few flew over
the county that when we’d hear an airplane we would
commonly run out in the yard to see it. During the Second
World War the Civil Defense Agency held community meetings
to brief citizens on how to take cover in case of an air
attack. Although we had air raid drills, I’m sure that in
the case of a real attack we’d never have made it for we’d
have been out in the yard looking up.
I had an uncle who said he’d been interested in flying at a
very young age. This was my Uncle Charlie, my daddy’s older
brother. Their father died when they were quite young
leaving their mother with twelve children to raise. The
preacher would visit the family frequently to do what he
could to bring some comfort to the situation. On one visit
he explained to the family the importance of prayer. He
told them that their needs and wishes could be met through
prayer if they would pray in earnest.
Uncle Charlie said he’d always wanted to fly; so he went
out into an open field and gathered two large bundles of
broom sage, one for each arm, to use as wings. His mother
was sitting in the kitchen churning. The old house had no
screens on the windows; so he planned to start his flight
from the top of a nearby tree, fly through one of the
windows, circle his mother one time and fly out the window
on the other side of the kitchen.
He remembered what the preacher had said, so he first
prayed. He climbed the tree, placed a bundle of broom sage
under each arm and began flapping his arms. Then he
remembered that the prayer must be in earnest. So he
climbed down from the tree to make sure he was in earnest.
I’m not sure just how this story ended, but my uncle did
mention that being earnest was something he had trouble
with.