Ahoy.
My name is John and I'm a Biology student in northern California.
My passion for the older aircraft began when I met my, uh, great uncle, I suppose, who flew Spits during The War. Anyhow, I expanded my horizons from there, and you can probably tell what my favorite aircraft is already.
Unsurprisingly, he thinks I'm daft. Oh well. He still regales me with tales of his scuffles with "The Hun" and continues to foist his vast collection of vintage aviation literature on me.
My passion for the subject is nurtured in no small part by the constant drone of T-6s and a P-51 over my house. They're based at the local municipal field. Old rich guys with nothing better to do with their money.
Oh, and one more thing. Every memorial day, a B-17 flys into town and stays for a week. After about four days, I started to not notice. I find it hilarious that a B-17 could buzz your house often enough that you eventually are able to ignore it, but it happens!
My name is John and I'm a Biology student in northern California.
My passion for the older aircraft began when I met my, uh, great uncle, I suppose, who flew Spits during The War. Anyhow, I expanded my horizons from there, and you can probably tell what my favorite aircraft is already.
Unsurprisingly, he thinks I'm daft. Oh well. He still regales me with tales of his scuffles with "The Hun" and continues to foist his vast collection of vintage aviation literature on me.My passion for the subject is nurtured in no small part by the constant drone of T-6s and a P-51 over my house. They're based at the local municipal field. Old rich guys with nothing better to do with their money.
Oh, and one more thing. Every memorial day, a B-17 flys into town and stays for a week. After about four days, I started to not notice. I find it hilarious that a B-17 could buzz your house often enough that you eventually are able to ignore it, but it happens!
