EAA Sport Aviation

line. (I thought, “I’ve got to get a whistle and try it on the Hangar Trash!”)

I had hooked up my small utility trailer to the lawn tractor I keep at the hangar. We all passed through the FBO and said “hi” to the smiling throngs, and then I pointed to the trailer and said, “We’re gonna go for a ride in that.” That was the right thing to say, because they all ran out the door and hopped into the trailer as if they were running to a playground. What kid doesn’t like to go for a ride in a trailer? Apparently, not many.

I started the tractor and off we went, but not far. I drove to a spot where we had line-of-sight with the control tower. The kids hollered, “Don’t stop!” I said, “Hold on a second. Watch this.” And with that I keyed my handheld VHF radio and said, “Salem Ground, Kid Trailer One requests some light signals.” Ground answered, “Kid Trailer One, roger,” and flashed green signals, red signals, and red-and-green signals at the kids from the tower. The kids went wild, jumping and screaming and waving all at the same time. Then, over the radio, came, “Kid Trailer One, welcome to the airport!” And the kids all jumped and waved some more. It was a good beginning.

I then pulled my trailer-load of happy munchkins the long way around to my hangar. It was pretty obvious that they wanted maximum riding time. There I had a project laid out: some strips of aluminum, some Clecos, Cleco pliers, rivets, and a rivet squeezer. I held up each item and had the kids repeat the name three times. “Aluminum” came out many different ways; “rivet” always seemed to come out “ribit.” “Cleco” they got every time. (I always imagine their parents picking them up after school and asking, “What did you do in school today?” And the kid says, “Saw a Cleco.”) I took the pieces of aluminum and fashioned an airplane of sorts, holding it together with Clecos. Then I put rivets in and squeezed them, with all hands taking a turn on the rivet squeezer. The kids now knew everything that I knew when I started building my RV- 8.

Hangars generally hold a lot of other
items of interest, too. To wit: A Volkswagen
Beetle I found and had to have (but have
since sold to my college buddy, who also
likes Beetles). I told the kids, “This is a
Beetle.” “Beetle!” they all yelled in unison.
I asked, “How many of you have ever rolled
up a window on a car?” Four had. I had
each of the rest of them roll the window
up and down. Then I asked a question that
got an immediate nonverbal response:
“How many 4-year-olds can fit in a Beetle?”
Without saying a word they proceeded
to show me: all of them. And they were
squeezing and laughing and giggling all the
while. Pure, unadulterated joy—it was a fun
event for this 66-year-old soul to witness.

Pure, unadulterated joy—it was a
fun event for this
66-year-old soul to witness.

Then I had a surprise for them: balsa
wood gliders (courtesy of Ron at Salem
Aviation Fueling). I handed them out
and down on the floor went kids and
teachers and parents, and the gliders were
assembled. Some had parts in the wrong
places, but it didn’t matter; they still sort
of flew when the kids tossed them. And
toss them they did: over and over and
anywhere and everywhere. The kids ran and
laughed and laughed some more—you get
the picture. One parent kept a repository
of salvaged glider parts to repair the ones
that got damaged or, worse, stepped on.
I thought that was pretty good “aviation
thinking.” Truthfully, it was probably just
good “mom thinking.”
Trailers, Clecos, Beetles, and gliders—
that’s a pretty good day.

After quite a while of tossing gliders it was time for the kids to gather up for the trip back to school. But first we huddled by my airplane for pictures—complete with gliders and smiles. The kids then piled in the trailer, and we again took the slow, long-way-around route, around several more parked airplanes, back to their bus. The kids all said “thank you” as they got out of the

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