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General control line discussion => AS TIME GOES BYE => Topic started by: Mike Griffin on February 15, 2016, 12:29:34 PM
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The attached newspaper article appeared in the Mayfield Messenger on April 10, 1981. I was raised in the small Western Kentucky town of Mayfield. My dad was Floyd Griffin and the time period for all of this was 1931. Dad passed away in 1978 at the age of 63. I remember him telling me of this before he died....just thought I would share the article.
Mike
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That was truly a wonderful memory and story.....As kids we tried so many thing that "HATH WINGS.!"
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Thanks Mike, that is one great story. Might be good they couldn't afford the shellac.
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'wonderful reminiscence, Mike. We were fortunate to have grown in a time when airplanes and flying were still fascinating. My own Dad also had his stories of building a primary glider when in high school or trading for a boat from which they dove into the Maumee river of Gerti's (sp?) Island to find the storied cannon dropped through the ice by Mad Anthony Wayne on his way to Fallen Timbers. Our fathers had so much fun in the real world - as opposed to cyberspace. Barnstormers, learning to grind valves for OX-5 engines, driving friends to the National Air Races at age 14 in a body-less car,... 'so many stories of youth of another time. Thanks for posting the delightful memoir.
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Reading these stories reminds me of my youth. My younger brother, a good friend and I watched the movie "Gallant Journey" and was inspired to build a glider. We lived on a farm that had a valley below that would make a great place to launch our glider. We visioned gliding around the valley and eventually landing in a field below. So the three of us set off to the local sawmill were unusable sticks were dumped for the community to use for kindling, but we had a far better use for it. The three of us drug a bundle of sticks about 12 foot in length two miles to our farm. The sticks were laid out and sorted by usability. When my Mom heard of our plans, the sticks mysteriously disappeared while we were at school. But the woodshed kindling pile grew. So ended our first attempt to build a flying machine. My brother and I still talk about those days when we visit. What's that old song, Memories are made of this? My brother and I did get our license and have owned airplanes most of our adult lives. I did build a "Starduster One" biplane that took me on many adventures.Richard
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Ty, Some of us learn the hard way! Richard