Small world! One of my college roommates was from there, so there's at least one other after Du Bois.The town I live in now is the birthplace of W.E.B. Dubois who, I think, is probably, unfortunately, the last African American person to live here.
Western Massachusetts is a little to...uh...homogeneous for my comfort.
Interesting. In the sixties, on a starlit night, we could see those high-altitude lights moving across the sky. By this time, many transatlantic flights did not have to land at Gander for refueling.I have given MANY position reports through Gander. Long nights flying West at .74Mach from Europe fighting the winds.
I only ever landed at gander once. Then only because of weather We couldn't land Sondestrom or Thule or Goose bay. I used to do quite a bit of arctic flying back in the late seventies.Interesting. In the sixties, on a starlit night, we could see those high-altitude lights moving across the sky. By this time, many transatlantic flights did not have to land at Gander for refueling.
Other than on commercial flights, the highest I've been is in a DC3. I was an air cadet in the mid-sixties (I'm 72). On a Saturday with good weather, we would fly out over the North Atlantic at low altitudes looking for foreign fishing trawlers along the route of the undersea transatlantic telephone cable.
The Captain would always let us have a turn at the yoke on the starboard side.
When a trawler was spotted, the Captain and Co-Pilot took over. The DC3 would come in low in a counter-clockwise circle with the port wing down low. Once in the desired position and upwind from the trawler, a (loose) bundle of a few hundred or so leaflets would be tossed out the little window either beside the Captain or the Co-Pilot (not sure which - it's been awhile - and we had to buckle up for this).
If it were a Portuguese or Spanish trawler (40-50 metres long), the fishermen would be out on deck waving to us. Soviet trawler? Not a soul on deck.