ON THE WINGS OF THE WIND: The Untold Story of History’s First Flight. By Richard Kigel. Part 26.
NEARLY EVERYBODY IN THE TOWN WAS WHITE. IT WAS STRANGE THAT NOBODY SEEMED TO NOTICE WE WERE THERE. I DON’T KNOW HOW ANYBODY COULD MISS US. WE WERE PRACTICALLY ON TOP OF THEIR HEADS. ALL THEY HAD TO DO WAS LOOK UP. OUR FLIER CERTAINLY MADE ENOUGH OF A RACKET.
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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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We approached the town, flying above the streets and over roofs, high enough to look down on all the buildings. The tallest structure in the town was a church with a tall steeple and we were aiming for it. The next few minutes were nerve wracking because we were low enough to hit it.
Fortunately, we passed close but managed to avoid it by a safe distance.
This town was much smaller than the one I knew near our old plantation. Looking down at the streets, I could make out different kinds of shops, a general store, a blacksmith shop, horse stables and rows of one and two story wood frame houses. Folks were going about their business, mostly on foot with some on horseback and a few driving wagons.
Nearly everybody was white, like the family we saw on the road. It was strange that nobody seemed to notice we were there. The few slaves on the street saw us. I know they saw us because they would stop and drop what they were doing to smile and wave at us.
I don’t know how anybody could miss us. All they had to do was look up. Our flier certainly made enough of a racket. We were practically on top of their heads.
The white children in the town waved at us like the children in the wagon. They would look up and point, always with a big smile. This would last until their parents shooed them away or pushed them indoors.
I always thought something funny was going on. None of the grown white folks saw us. At least, they pretended they didn’t see us. They never looked up.
I didn’t understand it. They acted like anyone who looked at us might turn to salt like the woman in the Bible. I don’t know why. Lord knows, we weren’t doing anything that would hurt anybody.
But the children saw us and when they did they were happy and friendly. I would not have minded bringing some of them up on the flier for a ride some day.
***********************************************************************************************************
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.
***********************************************************************************************
We approached the town, flying above the streets and over roofs, high enough to look down on all the buildings. The tallest structure in the town was a church with a tall steeple and we were aiming for it. The next few minutes were nerve wracking because we were low enough to hit it.
Fortunately, we passed close but managed to avoid it by a safe distance.
This town was much smaller than the one I knew near our old plantation. Looking down at the streets, I could make out different kinds of shops, a general store, a blacksmith shop, horse stables and rows of one and two story wood frame houses. Folks were going about their business, mostly on foot with some on horseback and a few driving wagons.
Nearly everybody was white, like the family we saw on the road. It was strange that nobody seemed to notice we were there. The few slaves on the street saw us. I know they saw us because they would stop and drop what they were doing to smile and wave at us.
I don’t know how anybody could miss us. All they had to do was look up. Our flier certainly made enough of a racket. We were practically on top of their heads.
The white children in the town waved at us like the children in the wagon. They would look up and point, always with a big smile. This would last until their parents shooed them away or pushed them indoors.
I always thought something funny was going on. None of the grown white folks saw us. At least, they pretended they didn’t see us. They never looked up.
I didn’t understand it. They acted like anyone who looked at us might turn to salt like the woman in the Bible. I don’t know why. Lord knows, we weren’t doing anything that would hurt anybody.
But the children saw us and when they did they were happy and friendly. I would not have minded bringing some of them up on the flier for a ride some day.
Irma:
Mystery? What is the mystery?