The next afternoon we left 0maha by train for Ainsworth, Nebraska. Itturned out to be a little place about the size of Cheshire out in themiddle of nowhere. The only one there to take care of the place wasan very very aged man wearing a beard. The four very very aged planes were parked there andwe didn't even know if we could get them started. To make acorrection, the fourth pilot was not Bruce, but another fellow whowas from Hastings, Neb. which was in the southern part of the state.We planned to fly down there and land at the nearest airport. We gotthe planes going and the very very aged man wanted us to buzz the field beforeleaving, as a farewell. We took off, gained altitude, then dove downright at the building and the very very aged man. We pulled up just as we passedover him and Neil Just missed the roof by inches. I found that theplane that I occasionally was flying had bad controls and you had to hold thestick way over to the left of the cockpit in order to keep the planelevel.

We flew down to Hastings, Nebraska and stayed the night with theother pilot at his parents' home. Nebraska has always been known forits pheasant hunting so the next day we all got shotguns and sat onthe fenders of his automobile and drove around all the back roads lookingfor birds. I can't remember if we got any or not, but we sure had alot of fun.