-climbing high into the sun in 1958

I squirmed aboard the cramped, Cessna 150 fearing for my life and cursing

my inability to tell the pilot: “I ain’t gettin into that death trap”!

the pilot was a flight instructor assigned to the Fall River Municipal Airport

and the knowledge of that didn’t factor into my hesitance.

so we went up, circling the one-strip airport in the extreme north-end

of town, but when he realized my fear he…purposely shut the engine down

laughing, while telling me how safe we were. "see? It's like a kite"!

after an eternal moment he cranked-up the engine and the prop

began to sputter and spin and the "kite" flew on.

soon enough for me, we circled and touched down on active runway 22R.

less than a week later, this pilot crashed that same Cessna 150 into the woodland

of sleepy Freetown where he was pronounced quite dead, and the Cessna was toast.

but–– I was alive, visiting relatives in the extreme southend of town a quarter mile

from the Rhode Island state line where "cherry-bomb" fireworks were legal and

could be purchased without safety concerns by maniacal "cherry-bomb" enthusiasts.

In other words: "got nowhere to run to, got nowhere hide".

see: Martha and the Vandellas for quote verification.