I might have been in the first grade when the family was leaving Ft. Worth, Texas, on the main north/south highway in Texas. This was Highway 81 and it was 400 miles south to our home in Alice, Texas. We had been visiting relatives.

Just south of Ft. Worth, out on the prairie, was a dirt airstrip for local, private planes. My dad slowed down every time we passed there because often a light plane would be taking off or landing. The airstrip was near and was aligned parallel to the highway.

Then there was that day when he slowed down even more and pulled off the highway onto the dirt road to the airstrip hangar.

Wow! He was going to let me see them close up!

We stopped behind a row of planes and I got out and was leaning on the front of our 1936 Ford. I marveled at the Pipers, Wacos, Aeronicas, and Taylorcrafts...I knew those, but some of the planes I did not know.

Dad and another guy came over to me and Dad asked, "Do you want to go for an airplane ride?"

I couldn’t believe it!

It had been such an impossible prospect I had never even asked! I didn’t think there was any point to it. Those rides cost a lot of money and we didn’t have much.

I do not remember my response but I knew how to climb in the plane. For the life of me, I do not remember the plane type. It was side-by-side seating like a Taylorcraft and not tandem seating like in the Cubs.

The guy asked me some questions to see if he would be wasting his time explaining anything to me. I knew what most of the instruments were and what they were for. He started explaining a lot of other things, with demonstrations, and a lot of hand waving that fliers use when communicating with both fliers and non-fliers.

A fellow appeared at the plane’s nose and the pilot diddled things, threw switches and they called out the usual, "ignition on," "contact," "all clear," and the like. The front guy threw the prop through and the engine spit a couple of times. The pilot diddled some more and they tried again.

The engine started and as it did, the instrument panel shook on its rubber mounts before the four-cylinder engine smoothed out.

We taxied a bit and took off.

That first take-off was wonderful! The world looked just like I had expected. The cars on the highway did look like my toy cars...the houses did look like a little windup train city – the people, ants.

We got a little altitude so I could look to the north and see how big Ft. Worth was...and it did look REALLY big. (It wasn’t many years before the highway moved to the east and the airport and most of that prairie were paved over with houses.)

He asked if I wanted to fly it!

My reply was to put my hands on the yoke and hold it as still as I could. If I held it real still, the plane would keep doing what it was doing before I touched it. In a bit he told me to not try to fly but to just rest my hands on the yoke. He did left and right turns, etc. I could tell the turns were coordinated by the turn-bank indicator. I pointed out to him that I noticed that. He laughed.

It was all over too soon but the landing was confusing because I thought we should have had the wheels on the ground much sooner than we did. I thought I was going to land on the seat of my short pants!

He told my dad that I really did know a lot about flying. I think this was told to the pilot by my dad before the guy agreed to take me. I am sure some money changed hands but I didn’t see it. I do not remember any signs advertising "PLANE RIDES!!" Such signs and services were important to many little airstrips back then.