a B-17 Sighting

On my way to Cincinnati this morning, I was passing the Wright Brother’s Airport, which is only a quarter mile from my house, and in the distance I noticed a plane. It looked small, but I instantly recognized it. As a kid, I was fascinated by World War II Era aircraft. I used to have model airplanes—the Hellcat, the Corsair, the Wildcat, the Lightning, the Mustang, the Thunderbolt, the Liberator—and, even from a distance, I recognized the plane: a B-17 Flying Fortress Bomber. I regretted that I did not glimpse more as it disappeared beyond a tree-line. I kept driving for a few minutes, passing a few shopping plazas, the YMCA, the Marketplace Express gas station. As I sat at the light, I felt my car shaking, and I looked out the window and the B-17 flew right overhead. I could actually see the sun glinting off the belly gunner’s bubble! It swept overhead, maybe about forty or fifty feet, and it literally filled the sky. People were craning their necks and watching as it landed on the runway opposite the Marketplace. You should have seen this thing. It was massive. And beautiful.