My Dad was a Nebraska farm boy, and remembered the first time he saw an airplane. When my family moved from Illinois to Arizona in the late 40s, my grandmother and I flew out in a DC-3. Pilots let me come up in the cockpit. I remember lying in the grass when I was a kid in Arizona, and watching B-36 contrails. I even remember when people used to dress up when traveling on an airliner, or going to court. Today, either can be a freak show;
think bar scene from Star Wars. Many decades later, I became a GA pilot and had a small airplane. My dad wouldn't get in it with me. He knew me too well
Yes, How times have changed...