| Biographical Non-Fiction posted April 29, 2020 | Chapters: |
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A five year old's first plane ride
A chapter in the book Viewing the World With Fresh Eyes
Riding High
by BethShelby
I remember staring up from my tricycle as I rode around the yard and seeing airplanes fly over my house. We lived near a small airport, and the planes were flying very low as they passed over. The sound of the motor was loud. I could sometimes actually see the person flying the plane. I would always wave, hoping they would wave back. “Look, plane!” was one of my first sentences.
I remember the day my dad asked if I would like to ride in a plane. “Yes! Yes! Can I? Please, can I ride in a plane?”
“We’ll see," Daddy said. “I know the guy who runs the airport. Maybe I can get him to take you up one of these days.” After that, Dad seemed to forget about it, but I kept asking, “When can I go up in a plane?”
Those were my brave days. Before I started to school, I was confident and ready for adventure. I couldn’t wait to start to school. Once I actually did, I found there were many things to intimidate me, but that is another story. At age five, getting to actually fly in the air would a be a dream come true. I envied the birds' ability to fly. Ever since Mom had read the story of Peter Pan to me, I thought flying must be the most wonderful thing in the world.
Then one Sunday, Dad said, “After lunch, we’ll drive over to the airport and see what’s going on.” I was so excited, I could hardly swallow a bite of food.
When we got to the airport, there were a lot of people there. It was a special event day, and the pilot was taking kids up for rides for a penny a pound. Most of the kids were older than me. The plane kept taking off, flying around a while, and coming back down. Every time the plane landed, I would ask “When am I going to get to go?” Dad would say, “Be patient. We’ll see if he has time after a while.”
“Are you going with me?” I asked.
“No, not me.” Daddy said. “I don’t’ have any business being up there.”
“Don’t you like to fly, Daddy?”
“Nope, never had any desire to fly.”
That was a surprise. He was considering letting me do something he’d never done. It was getting late. The crowd had thinned. I’d about given up, when the pilot walked over and said to Dad, “So this is your daughter, I’ve heard so much about. She’s the spitting image of her Daddy.” I wasn’t sure that was good news. Daddy was bald.
"You ready to take a ride?” he asked me. I grinned and nodded. “Well, all right! Let's weigh you in.”
He had me step upon some scales. “54 pounds. That’s going to cost your daddy 54 cents. You think you’re worth that?”
Daddy reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of change.
The man led me to the plane, lifted me up into the seat, and buckled me in. He climbed in behind me and said, “Okay, Little Lady, where do you want to go? How about we take a trip over to your house? Would you like that?” I was too excited to talk, so I just smiled and nodded.
The engine was so loud, he had to shout, so I could hear him. The little two-seat plane taxied down the runway and lifted off. I drew a breath of surprise and awe, I couldn’t believe that it was the same world I was used to seeing everyday. The plane circled and tilted. I was sure I knew how it felt to be a bird.
"You want be the pilot?” he asked. “See the thing in front of you? You fly it for a while. I’ll take a nap.” I hoped he was kidding. I’m sure I wasn’t doing anything, but he let me think I was.
In a while, he dipped the plane low and pointed. “You know who lives there?” I knew he was showing me my house, but it didn’t look like my house from this angle. I could see my dog in the yard. He looked like he had shrunk.
The plane lifted. “You want to try a rollover?” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what a rollover was.
“Okay, hold on tight. You’ll be upside down for a second. You sure you’re alright with that?” I nodded. What a sensation. That was a little scary. I hoped he wouldn’t do that again.
All too soon my ride was over. I couldn’t shut up on the way home. None of the rest of my family had ever flown in a plane. I had my own unique status among my family members. I had gone where none of them had ever gone before.
I Remember writing prompt entry
I remember staring up from my tricycle as I rode around the yard and seeing airplanes fly over my house. We lived near a small airport, and the planes were flying very low as they passed over. The sound of the motor was loud. I could sometimes actually see the person flying the plane. I would always wave, hoping they would wave back. “Look, plane!” was one of my first sentences.
I remember the day my dad asked if I would like to ride in a plane. “Yes! Yes! Can I? Please, can I ride in a plane?”
“We’ll see," Daddy said. “I know the guy who runs the airport. Maybe I can get him to take you up one of these days.” After that, Dad seemed to forget about it, but I kept asking, “When can I go up in a plane?”
Those were my brave days. Before I started to school, I was confident and ready for adventure. I couldn’t wait to start to school. Once I actually did, I found there were many things to intimidate me, but that is another story. At age five, getting to actually fly in the air would a be a dream come true. I envied the birds' ability to fly. Ever since Mom had read the story of Peter Pan to me, I thought flying must be the most wonderful thing in the world.
Then one Sunday, Dad said, “After lunch, we’ll drive over to the airport and see what’s going on.” I was so excited, I could hardly swallow a bite of food.
When we got to the airport, there were a lot of people there. It was a special event day, and the pilot was taking kids up for rides for a penny a pound. Most of the kids were older than me. The plane kept taking off, flying around a while, and coming back down. Every time the plane landed, I would ask “When am I going to get to go?” Dad would say, “Be patient. We’ll see if he has time after a while.”
“Are you going with me?” I asked.
“No, not me.” Daddy said. “I don’t’ have any business being up there.”
“Don’t you like to fly, Daddy?”
“Nope, never had any desire to fly.”
That was a surprise. He was considering letting me do something he’d never done. It was getting late. The crowd had thinned. I’d about given up, when the pilot walked over and said to Dad, “So this is your daughter, I’ve heard so much about. She’s the spitting image of her Daddy.” I wasn’t sure that was good news. Daddy was bald.
"You ready to take a ride?” he asked me. I grinned and nodded. “Well, all right! Let's weigh you in.”
He had me step upon some scales. “54 pounds. That’s going to cost your daddy 54 cents. You think you’re worth that?”
Daddy reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of change.
The man led me to the plane, lifted me up into the seat, and buckled me in. He climbed in behind me and said, “Okay, Little Lady, where do you want to go? How about we take a trip over to your house? Would you like that?” I was too excited to talk, so I just smiled and nodded.
The engine was so loud, he had to shout, so I could hear him. The little two-seat plane taxied down the runway and lifted off. I drew a breath of surprise and awe, I couldn’t believe that it was the same world I was used to seeing everyday. The plane circled and tilted. I was sure I knew how it felt to be a bird.
"You want be the pilot?” he asked. “See the thing in front of you? You fly it for a while. I’ll take a nap.” I hoped he was kidding. I’m sure I wasn’t doing anything, but he let me think I was.
In a while, he dipped the plane low and pointed. “You know who lives there?” I knew he was showing me my house, but it didn’t look like my house from this angle. I could see my dog in the yard. He looked like he had shrunk.
The plane lifted. “You want to try a rollover?” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what a rollover was.
“Okay, hold on tight. You’ll be upside down for a second. You sure you’re alright with that?” I nodded. What a sensation. That was a little scary. I hoped he wouldn’t do that again.
All too soon my ride was over. I couldn’t shut up on the way home. None of the rest of my family had ever flown in a plane. I had my own unique status among my family members. I had gone where none of them had ever gone before.
I remember the day my dad asked if I would like to ride in a plane. “Yes! Yes! Can I? Please, can I ride in a plane?”
“We’ll see," Daddy said. “I know the guy who runs the airport. Maybe I can get him to take you up one of these days.” After that, Dad seemed to forget about it, but I kept asking, “When can I go up in a plane?”
Those were my brave days. Before I started to school, I was confident and ready for adventure. I couldn’t wait to start to school. Once I actually did, I found there were many things to intimidate me, but that is another story. At age five, getting to actually fly in the air would a be a dream come true. I envied the birds' ability to fly. Ever since Mom had read the story of Peter Pan to me, I thought flying must be the most wonderful thing in the world.
Then one Sunday, Dad said, “After lunch, we’ll drive over to the airport and see what’s going on.” I was so excited, I could hardly swallow a bite of food.
When we got to the airport, there were a lot of people there. It was a special event day, and the pilot was taking kids up for rides for a penny a pound. Most of the kids were older than me. The plane kept taking off, flying around a while, and coming back down. Every time the plane landed, I would ask “When am I going to get to go?” Dad would say, “Be patient. We’ll see if he has time after a while.”
“Are you going with me?” I asked.
“No, not me.” Daddy said. “I don’t’ have any business being up there.”
“Don’t you like to fly, Daddy?”
“Nope, never had any desire to fly.”
That was a surprise. He was considering letting me do something he’d never done. It was getting late. The crowd had thinned. I’d about given up, when the pilot walked over and said to Dad, “So this is your daughter, I’ve heard so much about. She’s the spitting image of her Daddy.” I wasn’t sure that was good news. Daddy was bald.
"You ready to take a ride?” he asked me. I grinned and nodded. “Well, all right! Let's weigh you in.”
He had me step upon some scales. “54 pounds. That’s going to cost your daddy 54 cents. You think you’re worth that?”
Daddy reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of change.
The man led me to the plane, lifted me up into the seat, and buckled me in. He climbed in behind me and said, “Okay, Little Lady, where do you want to go? How about we take a trip over to your house? Would you like that?” I was too excited to talk, so I just smiled and nodded.
The engine was so loud, he had to shout, so I could hear him. The little two-seat plane taxied down the runway and lifted off. I drew a breath of surprise and awe, I couldn’t believe that it was the same world I was used to seeing everyday. The plane circled and tilted. I was sure I knew how it felt to be a bird.
"You want be the pilot?” he asked. “See the thing in front of you? You fly it for a while. I’ll take a nap.” I hoped he was kidding. I’m sure I wasn’t doing anything, but he let me think I was.
In a while, he dipped the plane low and pointed. “You know who lives there?” I knew he was showing me my house, but it didn’t look like my house from this angle. I could see my dog in the yard. He looked like he had shrunk.
The plane lifted. “You want to try a rollover?” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what a rollover was.
“Okay, hold on tight. You’ll be upside down for a second. You sure you’re alright with that?” I nodded. What a sensation. That was a little scary. I hoped he wouldn’t do that again.
All too soon my ride was over. I couldn’t shut up on the way home. None of the rest of my family had ever flown in a plane. I had my own unique status among my family members. I had gone where none of them had ever gone before.
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Writing Prompt Begin your non-fiction autobiographical story or poem with the words 'I remember...' Complete the sentence conveying a moment, an object, a feeling, etc. This does not have to be a profound memory, but should allow readers insight into your feelings, observations and/or thoughts. Use at least 100, but not more than 1,000 words. The count should be stated in your author notes. |
 Recognized |
Word count. 828 This took place in 1942.
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