It was one of those 25-cent (at the time) rubber powered ROG models you could get at the grocery store or hardware store.
We lived on a U-shaped street - the short end of the U was along side the Oakland Rose Garden, and along the road was a "forest" of pine trees. The Rose Garden was a marvelous place for us kids to play with the pine trees, thickets that we could hide in and so on. My house was maybe 75 yards away from the Rose Garden.
Anyway - I got that airplane and was out front, packed in as many winds as I thought it would hold without either breaking the rubber or the wood, set it on the ground and let it go. It took off like a shot, miraculously avoiding the telephone poles and wires and started off towards the Rose Garden - climbing, climbing . .
I chased after it of course, but once it got above the Rose Garden it was pretty much out of sight, but I was running thru the trees, keeping my eyes on it as long as possible, of course the inevitable occured and I lost sight of it. I ran around for a while looking for it - I could not decide if it had lodged in a tree or had somehow kept flying. Never did find it.
I was torn between pride at having the plane fly so well and dismay at loosing it - it was the first flight on that particular model! None of the subsequent airplanes flew as well. My father was a pilot and that had me hooked on airplanes right there - but that experience really set the hook.
__________________ Jeff
Castro Valley, CA
The essential paradox of our democracy is that our warriors fight and die for our right to dispute the cause for which they are fighting and dying.
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