By Charlie Briggs

The year was 1946. The plane was small. The hour was early. The weather was good. The destination was Seminole, Texas. For me this was like going to another country. I looked it up on the map. It was 420 air miles. Going another direction we could have been going to Denver or Kansas City!

My father’s plane was a new Luscombe 8E. All metal and sturdy, it boasted a continental engine that purred along at a neat 100 miles per hour from the efforts of the 85 horses stored in the four dependable cylinders up front. No big appetite for fuel either, and using a miserly four gallons per hour at less than 30 cents per gallon, it was a real bargain in transportation.

The pre-flight was quite simple and took all of about five minutes. Check the controls, drain the sump, check the oil, make sure no owls made a nest under the cowl, and it basically was time to get cranking.