When I was a kid, back when my dearest wish was to be tall enough to reach the rudder pedals, I hung around the old Navy hangar at Ottumwa, Iowa. Yep, the Navy had a facility deep in the waves of corn once upon the time of the Greatest Generation.
[click on the title to read the entire story]
Rob Bach is currently one of the world’s greatest “Aviation Wordsmiths” (and a damn fine photographer as well). Here then is Part Two of Rob Bach’s tremendous fiction piece, “5339.”
The thin white ridge of tissue stood in relief against the mass of wrinkles wrapped around his knuckles like a parchment map of the Old World. Grant sat quietly in the wicker rocker on his porch and stared at it. “Now HOW did I get that?” he whispered to himself.…
It’s a rare airplane story that’s told from the perspective of the airplane itself. This terrific story by Robert Bach is rare in other ways, too. His words will gently grab your imagination, transport you back in time, and then take you forward through the years alongside a certain TravelAir 4000. If you don’t already believe that airplanes are living breathing beings with hearts and souls, you will …
If a lineboy tells you he’s pumping gas and hauling boxes to get his foot in the door, he’s only telling you part of the truth. The rest has to do with the sights, sounds, and smells he gets to experience on the job … alluring hints of what’s to come. Journey with Robert Bach back to Corpus Christi in 1931 for a real nice story of aviation love at first sight.
A story can take a reader any where, anywhen it likes. One cold winter night Rob Bach sat down at the keyboard and typed out this story, which is guaranteed to transport you to Blakesburg, Iowa on a hot summer day. Flyins (and memories of flyins) are like that.
