It's a bird, it's a plane, it's daddy's kite!
|My father loved to build things. He did a lot of woodworking, building book shelves, fences and a bridge over the creek in the backyard. He also built more esoteric things like boats and kites. Thanks to his engineering background he was very precise so his creations were always perfect.
I didn’t understand some of the things he built, like box kites. They didn’t look like kites and I couldn’t figure out how they few. But fly they did. We were very fortunate to have plenty of room to fly our kites. Our housing development had been built on an old orchard which had been cut down and was surrounded by open farmland. It was still so new, that the trees people had planted in their yards were still saplings. Our backyard was an acre in size. We didn’t have to worry about losing our kites to trees or power lines.
My father made his own string reel using a block of wood and two large nails as handles to which he attached what seemed to me to be miles and miles of string. Our kites always flew higher than anyone else’s. One day he had one of his box kites so high that it had become just a speck on the sky. A plane flew by prompting us to shout, “Look Daddy, the kite is as high as the airplane!”
A few minutes later, my mother came running out of the house. The local airport had just called, requesting that he lower his kite. It was interfering with the flight paths of the planes that were trying to take off and land.
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