ON THE WINGS OF THE WIND: The Untold Story of History’s First Flight. By Richard Kigel. Part 20.
WATCHING THE SCENERY ROLLING BY WAS ABOUT ALL WE COULD DO. PASSING OVER MILES OF OPEN COUNTRY, ABOVE HILLS AND FIELDS, FORESTS AND STREAMS, THIS WAS OUR ONLY ENTERTAINMENT. I COULD FEEL THE SKIN ON THE BACK OF MY NECK BLISTERING UNDER THE SCORCHING SUN. THE FAMILIAR SENSATION BROUGHT BACK UNPLEASANT MEMORIES—WE COULD NOT STOP FOR A REST NO MATTER HOW TIRED WE WERE. YOU HAD TO KEEP GOING OR GET WHIPPED.
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SUMMARY: THE STORY SO FAR…
Josiah, a young slave 12 years of age, lives in a cabin in the slave quarters of a Virginia tobacco plantation with Auntie Bee, Mose, the plantation handyman, two young children, Randall and Emily. He notices Mose leaving the cabin in the middle of the night and follows him to his secret workshop in the woods where Mose is building some sort of strange contraption. Mose tells him it is a machine that will fly him to freedom. Now that he knows Mose’s secret, he stays to help build the flier. After mishaps, false starts and setbacks—the flier tumbles down the mountain and is seriously damaged—they are attacked by snakes—mountain lions lurk all around them—they realize someone has been spying on them and they think their escape plan has been discovered. Finally, their time has come. Now they are in the air, riding on the wings of the wind.
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It sure was noisy up there. We got used to the metallic grinding, the humming propeller and the hissing steam. Somehow, our creaky old flier seemed to fit right in with the natural sounds of the birds and the wind. I felt like we belonged.
Watching the scenery rolling by was about all we could do. From our vantage point in the sky, passing over miles of open country, above hills and fields, forests and streams, this was our only entertainment. My eyes followed the horizon, hoping to see what was out there and beyond but it was still a great mystery. We had traveled a great distance already but, somehow, the horizon wasn’t getting any closer.
I played a little game with myself. I picked out a distant point ahead of us—a tree, a hill, a boulder, a bend in the creek—and I kept my eye on it as we moved closer. Of course, I couldn’t see it when we went directly over it. Then, after we passed by and went beyond it, I would try to locate that spot again, now that it was behind us. That game was trickier than you might think.
Thinking. One thing about being so high above the world was I didn’t have to do a lot of thinking. I could just lie there and not move, not think, not do anything at all. It was so easy. I felt like I could do this for a hundred years.
The air was hot and heavy. The wind disappeared. Even with the propeller spinning above us there seemed to be little breeze. We were dawdling aimlessly in the sky, floating effortlessly like a lazy hawk.
I could feel the skin on the back of my neck blistering under the scorching sun. The familiar sensation brought back unpleasant memories—all those brutal days working in the blazing afternoon heat. We could not stop for a rest no matter how tired we were. If you felt sick, even if you were about to collapse, you had to keep going or get whipped for stopping.
I turned over so I could lie on my back. Lying there in the middle of the day under a sweltering sun was a new experience for me. I was hot but happy. My muscles felt light and loose. I could raise my arms and lower them any time I wanted. So I did it again and again, lifting my arms straight up then bringing them down. I tried to do it in different ways—raising them as slowly as I could, then down again. I could raise them one at a time, then both at the same time. I held both hands up in front of me and wiggled my fingers. It was fun.
There were so many things I could do now that I was free. I had no desire to do anything but look up at the giant puffs of white clouds drifting across the brilliant blue sky. I studied them carefully, fascinated by their changing shapes as the birds flew by, zipping in front of them from all angles. I was content.
Everything was peaceful until Randall spoke up.
***********************************************************************************************************
SUMMARY: THE STORY SO FAR…
Josiah, a young slave 12 years of age, lives in a cabin in the slave quarters of a Virginia tobacco plantation with Auntie Bee, Mose, the plantation handyman, two young children, Randall and Emily. He notices Mose leaving the cabin in the middle of the night and follows him to his secret workshop in the woods where Mose is building some sort of strange contraption. Mose tells him it is a machine that will fly him to freedom. Now that he knows Mose’s secret, he stays to help build the flier. After mishaps, false starts and setbacks—the flier tumbles down the mountain and is seriously damaged—they are attacked by snakes—mountain lions lurk all around them—they realize someone has been spying on them and they think their escape plan has been discovered. Finally, their time has come. Now they are in the air, riding on the wings of the wind.
***********************************************************************************************
It sure was noisy up there. We got used to the metallic grinding, the humming propeller and the hissing steam. Somehow, our creaky old flier seemed to fit right in with the natural sounds of the birds and the wind. I felt like we belonged.
Watching the scenery rolling by was about all we could do. From our vantage point in the sky, passing over miles of open country, above hills and fields, forests and streams, this was our only entertainment. My eyes followed the horizon, hoping to see what was out there and beyond but it was still a great mystery. We had traveled a great distance already but, somehow, the horizon wasn’t getting any closer.
I played a little game with myself. I picked out a distant point ahead of us—a tree, a hill, a boulder, a bend in the creek—and I kept my eye on it as we moved closer. Of course, I couldn’t see it when we went directly over it. Then, after we passed by and went beyond it, I would try to locate that spot again, now that it was behind us. That game was trickier than you might think.
Thinking. One thing about being so high above the world was I didn’t have to do a lot of thinking. I could just lie there and not move, not think, not do anything at all. It was so easy. I felt like I could do this for a hundred years.
The air was hot and heavy. The wind disappeared. Even with the propeller spinning above us there seemed to be little breeze. We were dawdling aimlessly in the sky, floating effortlessly like a lazy hawk.
I could feel the skin on the back of my neck blistering under the scorching sun. The familiar sensation brought back unpleasant memories—all those brutal days working in the blazing afternoon heat. We could not stop for a rest no matter how tired we were. If you felt sick, even if you were about to collapse, you had to keep going or get whipped for stopping.
I turned over so I could lie on my back. Lying there in the middle of the day under a sweltering sun was a new experience for me. I was hot but happy. My muscles felt light and loose. I could raise my arms and lower them any time I wanted. So I did it again and again, lifting my arms straight up then bringing them down. I tried to do it in different ways—raising them as slowly as I could, then down again. I could raise them one at a time, then both at the same time. I held both hands up in front of me and wiggled my fingers. It was fun.
There were so many things I could do now that I was free. I had no desire to do anything but look up at the giant puffs of white clouds drifting across the brilliant blue sky. I studied them carefully, fascinated by their changing shapes as the birds flew by, zipping in front of them from all angles. I was content.
Everything was peaceful until Randall spoke up.
I would love for everybody to read the book and let me know what you think. If you want to purchase the book, you can order it directly from the publisher: www.synergebooks.com/ebook_onthewingsofthewind.html
It is also available on my website: www.wingsfirstflight.com
I have about a dozen copies of the book to give away free of charge. If you are really interested in reading ON THE WINGS OF THE WIND, let me know. It will be my pleasure to see that it gets into your hands.
The words have no meaning without readers!
PEACE AND BLESSINGS,
Rich