Crossed Off my Bucket List

There’s not a lot left on my bucket list that I’m physically able to do, but this one was a nice surprise.

Because Dad was the commander of a B-29 Superfortress the last months of WWII, I’d hoped to get to see (and hear) one land and/or take off. In 1991, the one named Fifi (the only airworthy B-29 at that point) was on display at the Mason City airport. After making sure when it was due to arrive, Mom, sis Gloria, and I drove up the day before so we could watch it land. It was already on the ground. What a disappointment.

We were the first in line the next morning. While chatting, it came up that I was doing some writing about WWII. The man in charge said, “I tell you what–if you want to come back up the day we leave, you can fly with us to Grand Rapids, but you’ll have to get your own ride home from there.”

I never did get a ride in the B-29, but all three of us did climb up into the cockpit for pictures in the commander’s seat.

Mom in the commander’s seat, Mason City, Iowa, August 6, 1991Me, Mom, Gloria–August 6, 1991, Mason City, Iowa

Last week we learned that old warbirds from the Commemorative Air Force would be at the Des Moines airport this week, including Fifi, and it would be giving rides–three on Saturday, two on Sunday.

Well, on the way to the airport today, my Favorite Guy and I watched Fifi fly across in front of us, to turn in to land. We were too late to watch that, but we hung around until we could see the old bomber fire up each of the four engines, one by one, then taxi to the runway. While we waited for takeoff, a P-51 roared off the runway, an T-6 Texan, and a PT-13 biwing plane.

Then here came the Superfortress down the runway, lifting, and quickly rumbling overhead. What a treat to get to see and hear this old warbird with connections to family history.

Dad next to a B-29, Offutt AFB, Nebraska, 1974

Back in 1991, I tried to figure out how to make connections so I could ride in that B-29, but I needed someone to take me to Mason City and, the same day, someone to pick me up in Grand Rapids, MI. Mom couldn’t believe I’d even think about it. “That’s an old plane,” she reminded me, “and they’re already working on one of the engines.” Yes, but a B-29 has three more engines.

And if we crashed, I’d have a very interesting obituary, wouldn’t I?