Читать книгу The Seven Year-Old Pilot - Capt. Steven Archille - Страница 10

I still remember the first time I saw the movie Superman in early 1982. It was on ABC network’s Sunday Night Movie, long before cable television movie channels, the internet, and video stores made such “event” movies passé. When the night of the movie finally came, Mom let Betty and I stay up late to watch it. Superman, who had only his red cape to keep him airborne, was fanning the flames of my dream of flying. Of course, I knew it was only a movie and that I would need an airplane if I ever hoped to emulate my new favorite hero. The first night of the movie ended on a cliffhanger scene with Lois Lane plunging from the roof of a high-rise office building in Metropolis (aka 1978 New York City). I couldn’t wait for the next night. When it finally came, (the longest twenty-one hours of my life) I watched in awe as Superman flew around, performing feat after incredible feat. It was pure magic. As the final credits rolled, I sat in front of that television reading the names of the people who had made this wonder of a movie and listened to John Williams’ beautiful orchestral score, perhaps my love of classical music began at this time.

On previous trips to the library, I had seen albums available to checkout, and I resolved to go the library, which was near my house, after school the next day, to see if they had the Superman soundtrack. As I went to bed that night, I sat awake replaying all the flying scenes in my head. Thanks to Superman, I wanted to fly now more than ever!

As luck would have it, when I went to the library the next day, the Superman soundtrack album was surprisingly still available. Didn’t everyone want to run out and borrow this album? I wondered. There was a Hobby Shop near the library, that sold model boats, airplanes, and remote-control cars. With Superman having reignited my passion for all things flying, I went to the store in hopes of finding a model airplane that fit into my meager budget. I didn’t have much money, being an eight year-old, but I did have the twenty-five cents that it cost to buy a balsa-wood toy plane that the packaging said would fly far. Next to the twenty-five-cent model was a fifty-cent model with a rubber band-powered propeller, but that would have to wait for next time.

I plopped down my quarter on the counter in front of the store clerk and asked for the twenty-five-cent model. With my Superman record album in one hand and my new model plane in the other, I ran out of the store to a nearby park to put the little model together to see if it would fly as advertised. Balsa wood is very fragile, and I had to be very careful putting my little toy airplane together. I carefully slid the wings though the fuselage and then attached the elevator and rudder to the tail as the directions indicated. I held the little model and threw it as straight as I could. To my amazement, it really did fly far, much farther than the little paper airplanes I often made at home. Watching the little toy plane soar on the breeze stirred my imagination even further. I imagined that I was soaring along inside it, off to some faraway place. When it touched down, I ran to it and threw it again, watching as it banked left and right until its flight was inevitably cut short by a tree or a park bench. As the weeks went by, I listened to my album every day on our record player. I was reliving the flying scenes in my head. Afterwards, I would go outside and play with my toy planes. On the rare occasions that I had the patience to wait to amass the fifty cents needed to buy the propeller model, I watched with glee as the little rubber-band-driven propeller pulled the little plane even further through the sky... it was worth the wait.

This period also began my unwitting love affair with the library and reading. After borrowing the Superman soundtrack, I became infatuated with all things Superman. I borrowed book after book that had anything to do with Superman and consumed them all with a voracious appetite. I did not realize that I was actually improving my language skills and learning to be a better reader... I simply thought I was having fun. Since Superman was of such supreme interest to me, reading books (especially illustrated ones) about him and his history did not seem like “work”. It was then that I began to discover that having a passion for ANYTHING makes that thing a joy to do. After running out of books about Superman to read, I started reading adventure books about settlers heading west, shipwrecked sailors, and pilots lost in the Bermuda triangle. I couldn’t get enough of reading, and would imagine one day traveling to all the places about which I was reading.