Dreamland

Air Show

I am standing with a group of people watching an air show at a small country airport. It's late fall, the grass is yellowing, and the leaves have fallen. I am talking with a man maybe 10 or 15 years older than me, who I don't recognize in real life, but in the dream I seem to know him. I get the feeling he's my uncle or somehow related to me in the dream, so for this narrative I'll refer to him as such.

Planes are moving slowly down the dirt taxiway on display before taking off. A blue plane approaches from the left. At first I think it is a friend of mine's Beechcraft, but then I see that it is a high-wing, probably a Cessna 172. I comment to my uncle about how the Cessnas, and most other typical general aviation aircraft for that matter, are so closed in that you don't really get the true sensation of flying like you do in an ultralight or a hot-air balloon.

My uncle replies: "You'll like the next plane coming up, it's a friend of mine's, an interesting design."

The plane approaches from the taxiway on the right. and stops in front of us. It's an open cockpit low-wing, a three-seater, with two seats side-by-side up front, and a smaller seat behind them. It looks like a fun plane to go flying in. My uncle introduces me to the pilot and I compliment him on the plane.

From out of the crowd a middle-aged woman and a younger man (maybe early 20's) approach the plane. They greet the pilot (I realize then that they are his wife and son) and board the plane. The woman sits up front and the young man climbs into the back. We say goodbye and the plane begins to taxi towards the runway.

My uncle says we should start walking back to the parking lot to avoid the traffic, since this was the last plane of the air show. I tell him that I want to watch the takeoff first. He comments: "It'll be a quick takeoff, he just put a fresh Lycoming in that bird."

The plane takes off fast, gets up about 1500 feet, and starts to bank steeply into a left turn. We turn around and start walking towards the parking lot when suddenly we hear a gasp and commotion from the crowd. I turn and look, and see that the young man has fallen from the plane. He is plummeting through the sky, flailing his arms and legs, and he crashes into a patch of bare trees maybe a quarter of a mile away. Some of the people from the crowd begin running towards the trees, trying to locate him. It doesn't look likely to me that he could have survived.

I can hear the plane cut the engine back and circle around, coming back in to land. I can feel the pain, the anguish and loss the pilot must be feeling now, right down to the pit of my stomach.