Dad decided to take the whole family with him on a business
trip he was taking to Detroit, Michigan, to meet with vendors from Rockwell International. Mom had just finished making a suit for me. She used a searsucker
material with a pattern of sailboats and nautical flags, and I’d then picked
out a pair of white Grasshoppers by Keds to go with it. I felt very grown up in
my “sailor suit.” And Susan and I were both excited to be going on a real
business trip with our parents.
We piled in the car, and just as we were heading out of the
driveway, Dad announced that we had to swing by Joe Phillips, our local
commuter airport, to pick up a Mr. So and So, who was going to ride with us. I
was in eighth grade, I think, so about 14 years old, and my first thought was
how awful it was going to be having this man sit between Susan and me in the
back seat of Dad’s Oldsmobile 98. We pulled into the parking lot of the little
airport, and there, sitting on the tarmac was the most beautiful, sleek, bright
white business jet called a Saberliner. It had the Rockwell International logo
emblazoned on its tail, and the side door was, just at that moment, magically
dropping away from the side of the plane to create a staircase for deplaning.
Down the steps walked our Mr. So and So waving his arms at our car. I sighed
heavily and petulantly, and said to no one in particular, “Wish I could go on a
plane like that.” Dad opened the car door, stepped out and shook Mr. So and
So’s hand, and then opened my backseat door. He looked me straight in the eye
and said with his wonderful grin and twinkling blue eyes, “Sometimes wishes
come true.”
I will never forget the thrill of going on that 10-seater
jetliner, just like a movie star, all the way to Detroit—less than an hour’s
flight from where we lived in Michigan City, Indiana.
Copyright by DJ Anderson 2013
