Airfield Films

Newark, NJ.  February 15, 2016.

My earliest memory at an airport is meeting my grandmother in Portland at night, in the days when you could wait at the gate.  The firelight; the hardware that arrives, hugely, from the dark.  This one flew me 3600 miles through a bumpy Atlantic night in six and a half hours, a feat it will have accomplished hundreds of times over its life, and which is no less baffling to me today than it was when I was a child.  Just sayin.

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