May 26th is National Paper Airplane Day. It is also known as aerogami in China and Japan. I thought I would show a book and tell some personal tales of flying paper airplanes.
Arrrrrggg, I cannot find my book of championship paper airplanes that my brother-the ex-real airplane flyer gave me. But… since I own a library, I must make due with what I have. Let’s take a look.
Project #84 from “365 Science Projects & Activities” by Phyllis J. Perry and Peter Rillero 1999, shows how to make a basic paper airplane. The more times you fold the wings over (repeating step number 3), you will be making a dart-like plane. In fact, in the 1950’s it used to be called paper dart making, not paper airplane making.
I also have the book “Wings. A Pop-up Book of things that Fly” by Nick Bantock, 1991. There are pop-ups of dragonflies, butterflies, birds, and bats. Then, several on airplanes.
One has to admit, these are paper airplanes…in this pop-up book.
In third grade one day, I made a paper airplane at recess, Several of us boys did. I bragged that I would fly mine in class. It was a brave brag, the teacher was Miss Decastri, and we were scared of her. We sat down after recess, and I dwelled on how to do it. I could not think of anything else. Finally, I raised my hand for permission to talk. When I got it, I asked “Would I get in trouble if I took my airplane,” holding it up, “and threw it in class…like this?” I then threw it. The whole class gasped.
Miss Decastri did not flinch. She quietly said “Scotty, please pick up that airplane and take it to the principal’s office. Tell her what you just said and did.” She then went right back to her lesson plan. I meekly retrieved my plane and walked to Miss Cairens office, our principal. I explained what happened to the Principal’s secretary. She covered a smile with her hand, and went into the office. Moments later, I was summoned in. “Why?” was all Miss Cairens asked.
With tears welling up in my eyes, I said ” I don’t know.” Then the words just came out. “I made the plane in recess, and thought it could fly completely across the room. I started to ask politely, and my brain said “she would say no”, but my arm said “yes”.
She smiled. I had to spend the next hour and a half in the office, staring at the wall, not talking at all. Then, when school was over, I had to go back to the classroom and apologize to Miss Decastri. I tearfully did.
One would think that my airplane making days would now be over. Then one day, soon after my brother graduated college, he got a job in New Jersey. I (and my brother-in-law) was going to drive a U-haul, towing my car, (and my brother driving his car) from Illinois to New Jersey. The move went with out a problem. Instead of driving straight home, my brother-in- law and I decided to drive to New York for a day before going back to Illinois.
We ended up at the Empire State building. Up we went. What a cool looking lobby and old fashioned elevators. When we got to the 86 story observation floor (1050 feet), we got out of the elevator. We could walk outside! Not so at the Sears Tower or John Handcock, buildings that I was familar with. It was amazing. It was then my brain started thinking again. My brother had made a circular airplane the last Christmas, that looped and floated forever. I thought one of those style planes could take minutes, maybe even an hour, to float down from the top of the Empire State Building!
So I quickly made one out of the tour paper we got about the Empire State Building. I then went over to the edge, and winged it over the side. After watching it glide about for perhaps twenty seconds, I was interrupted by a hand, grabbing my shoulder. I attempted to turn around, and saw a policeman-an angry policeman, yelling “you could kill someone. You’re going to jail.”
With my head spinning at that comment, he then spun my body into the elevator. You may not know this, but I believe there is a special button for policemen that speeds up elevators going down. It took no time at all to go that 1050 feet back to the lobby. There I was met with another policeman (or security guard-I still don’t know) holding the door open to the outside. The first policeman then literally threw me to the sidewalk, I rolled into the gutter. A New York filthy gutter. With my hand scratched and slightly bleeding, I moved over and sat on the curb, dazed.
Five minutes or so later, my brother-in-law made it down from the observation deck, happy to see me. He was glad that I was only hurt, and not taken to the police station-he didn’t have car keys. He brushed me off, and helped me to the car. He then drove us out of New York.
I don’t make paper airplanes in public any more, but Happy Paper Airplane Day to everyone else.
Thanks for reading.
Librarytomes 