Before getting out of his cruiser, the officer thumbed the red button on the microphone.
“Tell the fire department to step it up, Willoughby.”
He had made his way north on Erie Street, through a canyon of century-old brick commercial buildings and stopped just short of Route 20, confident his cruiser was far enough away from Regina’s Restaurant and Lounge, that its green paint wouldn’t blister from the heat. It was just after midnight on Monday, April 29, 1974. Continue reading
The following story is from my Confessions of a Thankful Pilot series.
April 15, 1989
The air is clear and a huge orange moon sits on the eastern horizon as I take off from Cuyahoga County airport. Aside from the ethereal voices on the comm radio, my only companion tonight is my flying partner, a two seat, single engine Piper Tomahawk with the call sign N2314K (pronounced November-Two-Three-One-Four-Kilo). Continue reading
AirVenture was fantastic!
In the War Birds area with some of the World War II ladies.