So, the pilot was Capt Pete Maverick?
I grew up 1.5 miles outside a SAC B-52 AFB which of course also had many jets that flew at tree-top level right over my house very frequently, several times breaking the sound barrier once they attained higher altitude. Mostly they'd do slow fly-bys which I would stand out on my front lawn and wave to the pilots, and they would wave back. When I was 9 or 10 I got to meet some of the pilots as the flight commander lived just down the street from us. I remember one of them gave me a leather flight jacket with patches, but had to wait till I was 14 when it finally fit. I was so stoked!
But, the jets were nothing compared to the earth shattering B-52's when they went on nuclear drill alert and all took off 30 seconds apart going full throttle just above the tree-tops. My dad a machinist by day and semi-pro photographer on weekends would take me to the end of the B-52 runway and he'd setup his camera/tripod to capture the B-52s taking off. I remember standing in the pickup truck bed and reaching up as they flew over seemingly touching the wheels. I had double hearing protection for those events.
The first several months after we had a house built and moved in was quite traumatizing, but we all got accustomed to the thunder & booms. My parents had baby latches on all the cupboards to keep the dishes/glassware from dropping out & crashing onto the floor. Our family had ear muff protectors hanging on the rack next to our ballcaps. As a little kid that was serious duck 'n cover times and my dad would say, 'if this is for real we got about 20 minutes to say our good-byes'. My middle-school essay report was on how to survive a nuclear attack which I won 2nd place and awarded a trophy by the B-52 air commander. Several years later I joined the Navy to become a fighter pilot, but failed the eye exam, and so became a computer nerd.
I grew up 1.5 miles outside a SAC B-52 AFB which of course also had many jets that flew at tree-top level right over my house very frequently, several times breaking the sound barrier once they attained higher altitude. Mostly they'd do slow fly-bys which I would stand out on my front lawn and wave to the pilots, and they would wave back. When I was 9 or 10 I got to meet some of the pilots as the flight commander lived just down the street from us. I remember one of them gave me a leather flight jacket with patches, but had to wait till I was 14 when it finally fit. I was so stoked!
But, the jets were nothing compared to the earth shattering B-52's when they went on nuclear drill alert and all took off 30 seconds apart going full throttle just above the tree-tops. My dad a machinist by day and semi-pro photographer on weekends would take me to the end of the B-52 runway and he'd setup his camera/tripod to capture the B-52s taking off. I remember standing in the pickup truck bed and reaching up as they flew over seemingly touching the wheels. I had double hearing protection for those events.
The first several months after we had a house built and moved in was quite traumatizing, but we all got accustomed to the thunder & booms. My parents had baby latches on all the cupboards to keep the dishes/glassware from dropping out & crashing onto the floor. Our family had ear muff protectors hanging on the rack next to our ballcaps. As a little kid that was serious duck 'n cover times and my dad would say, 'if this is for real we got about 20 minutes to say our good-byes'. My middle-school essay report was on how to survive a nuclear attack which I won 2nd place and awarded a trophy by the B-52 air commander. Several years later I joined the Navy to become a fighter pilot, but failed the eye exam, and so became a computer nerd.
“World War III is a guerrilla information war with no division between military and civilian participation.” — Marshall McLuhan, from Culture Is Our Business, 1970