On this particular day it was basically family. The five of us, Karen, Ginny, Judy, Gary and me doing something that we all enjoyed and yet didn't get enough time to do. Nope-it wasn't swimming. This day we were headed to our 'backyard' also known as Sheridan Park.
It mean crossing the busy Lake Drive, and we didn't even think about walking the two extra blocks to cross at the light. We crossed right at Cudahy and Lake Drive.
Running across the field to try and find the best place. Today was the day and we were all excited.
Three. Two. One. Blast off! Another day, another rocket goes high into the sky only to come back to earth almost gently. Judy and I would chase the little parachute and hope to bring it back in one piece. Rocket engines were cheaper than buying an entire rocket.
Cudahy had a great hobby shop and Gary would use money he earned selling ice cream and purchase a kit. Sometimes it was a car model or a universal monster, but this time it had been a rocket. He spent the next week or so painting it an putting it together. We didn't really ask permission - most of the time it was just the five of us at home, and if Ginny didn't yell - we took that as permission to continue. So off to the park we went.
As long as we could recover the rocket in good shape, a new engine could be purchased and we could return for another launch.
Sometimes we would walk past the pond and up the hill and aim it so it went over the cliff. Well, it may not have been aimed - but that sounded better than saying we would aim it up and then it would fall over after the fuse was lit go out over the cliff. Then it was a race down the side of the cliff to gather the pieces before they floated out to sea on the waves of Lake Michigan.
The cliffs, in fact, really provided more than just a place to chase rockets. I would spend hours sitting on the edge flying my kite over the side. The winds were perfect and I could keep it flying for hours.
Kites in those days were nothing like you see flying by "Wings of Wonder" on the lakefront today. They were tissue paper with balsa wood sticks. You had to use kite string to 'bow' the horizontal stick which made a better surface for flight.
It was a touch and go operation. Too much arc and you chanced breaking the stick, sometimes in mid flight. Too little and you wouldn't get a good amount of lift. A tail was essential - this we made out of an old sheet torn into a thin strip with smaller ones tied on for weight.
"When lift plus thrust is greater than load plus drag, anything can fly."the words that Sister Bertrille would say at the beginning of each episode of "The Flying Nun". I could hear it in my head as I was assembling my kite.
I would get a good start by running down the hill toward the pond and once the kite was high enough I would let out all of the string from the spool. I would just sit on the edge and wonder if people flying past in the airplanes could see it.
One time I got tired of watching the kite so I tied it off on a nearby tree. I checked on it daily to see how long it would stay in the air. It took three days, I think. Someone could have come and taken it down. I mean I didn't find it at all, not even any string leading down the cliff to the lake.
Maybe it broke off the branch and headed to Michigan and a kid on the other side retrieved it. I waited for it to return to Wisconsin, like somehow they would magically know it was mine and return it. There was not an internet or even personal computing device in those days. Just think how today's technology could change the fate of that kite.
The thirst for scientific discovery was strong in me (although I didn't really know that was what it was at that point) and I spent many days in Goodwill looking through the tossed away kitchen appliances and other gadgets - it was my toy store. I didn't realize it at the time but I was drawn to electronics. It was like they were calling to me to buy them and take them apart - piece by piece. I would spend hours removing each little screw, each tube, all of the wires. I wanted to see how things were connected and how they could make their magic.
The only problem was, I could never get them back together again. Partially because I didn't pay too close attention to where things came and partially because I wasn't careful with where I put all of the screws. Should that matter? I mean really, I never recall a scientist being so concerned with specifics like - where did I put that screw? But I could be wrong.
I graduated from radio destruction to camera destruction, which actually wasn't all that difficult. In the 70's camera's didn't have any computerized parts like they do today. Mirrors and triggers were really intriguing. I discovered how the shutter could open and close - a switch to keep it held open the correct length of time based on the slots inside or how long you held on the switch.
I found an old Television in the dump - it was like the Holy Grail of things you could find to take apart. So may screws, wires and tubes. I had dismantled the entire thing - tubes, wires, switches. I paid close attention this time and returned each piece into the correct spot. I tightened down the wires, made sure everything was clean.
I attached the antenna, plugged it in and turned it on, not expecting much to happen. But you know what? It made a humming noise and the screen started to glow. I made a few adjustments with the antenna and it happened.
It turned on. It worked! I had fixed a broken television. I was hooked. I had power that needed to be shared with the world!
My brother's Gary and Rick used the television in their roost over the garage.
That was it - that was my beginnings of an interest in figuring out how things work. I use that same desire today not only on electronics or computers, but on the code and software that is used to make them work.
It calls to me and I answer.
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