Oh Boy! I’m gonna claim the title of “Dumbest” here ... A flying memory I’ll never forget:
I grew up in Owatonna, a small (but modern & classy) town in Southern Minnesota. We were fortunate to have an area we could fly in provided by a major business in town, land they weren’t using.
It ran north-south with a residential street on the east side, and railroad tracks running along the west side.
One Sunday, the engine in my good friend Tom’s airplane decided to fly off on its own. That was completely unexpected - OK, we were just kids, but Tom was an excellent builder.
The bad news is it landed on the lawn of an elderly woman, perhaps 25-30 feet away from her as she worked on her lawn on that residential street.
When the excitement subsided, the police were convinced it was something of a freak accident. We decided we could resume flying a couple of hours later.
I would fly literally anything I could beg, buy or steal (OK, not that) and had a Sterling Mustang that had seen its better days. The wing-fuselage joint was “iffy”, but ...
Sure enough, a short time into flight the fuselage with a Fox 35 up front decided to venture off on its own and ended its journey on the roof of a small railroad building along the track.
Several of us started walking toward the building and then stopped to watch as ... a police car drove up. When the officer asked how things were going, we all of course assured him everything was under control, and we were having a great time.
Had he pulled up about 2 minutes later as I retrieved the fuselage from the roof ... Thank goodness we’ll never know!
Dennis