Ruth Ross
Ruth Ross was born in Winnipeg, Canada. Growing up in California, Ruth lived on Venice Beach with her two brothers and two sisters. Ruth worked as a secretary for the government and traveled frequently with her husband. She now resides in Boulder, Colorado, at The Academy.
Free Fall
It was dinnertime with the family, and though I’m not sure what we were having, it was probably meatloaf. When the boys were home, it was always meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, or spaghetti. The girls looked forward to a time when we could eat lighter dishes, but it wouldn’t happen until the boys left home, for growing boys needed heartier meals, and let’s face it, they were always hungry. It was an ordinary dinner on an ordinary day. We were suddenly interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. My mother rushed to the kitchen to answer the phone. “It’s Gerry,” she called to me, “and he wants to speak to you, Ruth.” It was unusual that my older brother was calling for me; the calls I was used to getting were usually from my boyfriend, Lenny.
“How would you like to go to Chicago?” Gerry offered.
"Wow, how come?”
"We’re finishing up the plane for McCormick of the Chicago Tribune.”
Gerry was an engineer in Los Angeles at the California Aeromotive. He was always working with planes.
“I can’t afford to spend the money to go to Chicago.”
“The plane’s going anyway, you might as well go if you want to, but you’ll have to get yourself back home.”
After asking my dad for permission to go and help paying for the train ticket back, I asked my boss for time off. They both agreed and I could hardly wait to go. A few days later, it was 6 a.m. and I was getting ready to leave. I packed my little black dress in the hope of going somewhere fancy with my cousin, warm casual clothes, and food because they wouldn’t offer any on the plane. My father drove me to the airport. When we got there, the fog was as thick as pea soup—we wouldn’t be able to take off. Despite my excitement, I was glad we wouldn’t be traveling in that weather.
Gerry called the next morning to let me know that the weather was clear for takeoff. Once again, we left for the airport in my father’s Chevy. We entered the section on the side designated for private planes. I was astonished at the size of the plane.
It’s huge!
Gerry and I greeted each other before he introduced me to the pilots, who were in a rush to take advantage of the clear weather. I grabbed my luggage, gave daddy a kiss goodbye, and stepped onboard the fabulous plane. Inside was very luxurious, decorated with upholstered chairs, big wooden tables that could easily function as desks, fresh carpeting, and a kitchen in back. Everything was so recently refurnished you couldn’t ignore the newness. I felt lucky to be one of the five people onboard a plane that could have held at least a hundred.
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During the flight, there was not much communication between myself and the other passengers, so I kept to myself as I looked at the endless clouds and beautiful scenery. Towards the end of the flight, I went up to the pilot and asked if I might be able to go to the front section of the plane when we began landing in Chicago. Below the pilots was an opening that led to the front of the jet. The nose of the plane, which was originally reserved for service men that fired giant machine guns that extended out of the plane, was now reserved for me, with two easy chairs and a view protected by Plexiglas, which made me feel open to the world.
The pilots both agreed and when it was finally time to land, I took a seat in one of the comfortable easy chairs. It was the weirdest feeling to see the Earth come towards me. I was excited but scared at the same time. I felt like I was dropping from the sky. I knew I would never get an opportunity like this again. Knowing I was the only one crazy enough to sit down there made the entire experience that much more thrilling.
After the flight, the pilot took me to a hotel where I spent the remaining week. I visited family, did some sightseeing, and took the train home. Though Chicago was great, it was nothing compared to the excitement of flying on a B-29. Just for a few hours, I got a taste of adventure, and I hoped there would be more experiences like it in the future. For now, though, it was back to same old meatloaf.