When the plane landed in Dayton, Ohio I felt like I was in a time warp.
I thought I was in that Twilight Zone episode, the Odyssey of Flight 33, where the pilot gets caught in some mysterious jet stream …and lands at LaGuardia Airport 20 years earlier during the 1939 New York World’s Fair.
No, this was here and now. As we were flying in, nothing but green patches of farmland as far as the eye can see. Then the sign, “Welcome to Dayton. Birthplace of Aviation.” Ah, that’s right, the Wright Brothers. Well, I’ll tell you landing in rural Ohio I felt like one of the wrong brothers. I was in a foreign land.
Flory and I and a few other folks took a limo from the airport to Yellow Springs, Ohio, home of Antioch, my home for the next eight weeks. I didn’t sleep the first two nights and let me tell you why.
No, it wasn’t because there were no loud trucks, horns or sirens and I was homesick for Brooklyn.