My first vivid recollection of an airplane was in 1954 at the age of five as I disembarked off what I had been told was a “Super G Constellation” from New York to Los Angeles. I vividly remember descending down the air stair, turning back to look at the airplane, seeing three verticals, and getting goose bumps. I remember nothing else of that flight. Those goose bumps still come back, most notably now every time I see a lone Connie sitting near the north end at SLN seemingly ready and willing to fly.