The airport is possibly one of the most beautiful representations of human existence. You’re practically guaranteed a prime people-watching spot if you get there early. But even the joy of observing this convergence of hundreds of frantic stories at once pales in comparison to what lays right outside the massive windows or the terminal: hundreds of commercial, cargo and private airplanes.
Aviation has always held a special place in my life. Some of my favorite memories with my dad, who got his Private Pilots License when I was a kid, involve me and him crowding around maps spread out across our dining room table in my childhood home, charting a route for his next flight based on the location of air traffic control towers in the area.
Nothing has ever given me quite the rush I got when he took me flying for the first time, and I’ve been chasing that feeling ever since.
When I’m lucky enough to go on vacation, I get excited about the flight long before I get excited about the trip. I spend my summers attending air shows any chance I get, reminiscing on a time when I lived in Seattle, and the Navy Blue Angels would fly right over my house, shaking me to my core.
If you notice me somewhere with my nose stuck in my phone, chances are I’m checking the flight radar, keeping an eye on the flights passing overhead — and telling whomever I’m with all about it, whether they’re interested or not. My closest friends know of my obsession with the F-22 Raptor, the F-16 Fighting Falcon and the F/A-18 Hornet, not to mention the B-2 Spirit.
I recognize this obsession may seem trivial or frivolous to many, but I struggle to understand how people don’t think about airplanes more frequently. They’re a feat of engineering, and have singlehandedly changed the entire landscape for global travel and trade over the course of just a couple generations. I can’t help but marvel and seek them out whenever I have the chance.
When I get homesick for Ohio — the birthplace of aviation — I look out the window and watch the planes pass over Lake Michigan on their way to O’Hare or Midway International Airports. I think about how ridiculous it is that anyone would feel the need to pretend an airplane is a star in order to wish on it — surely airplanes are lucky enough to hold your wishes and dreams themselves.
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