I was ten years old playing in the backyard as the breeze became gusty. I noticed the bushes began blowing back and forth from the street in front of the house. I naviaged my way through the gusts of howling wind along the dirt driveway by the side of the house. I planted my feet and immediately leaned forward directly into the gale. Slowly moving into the intensity of the storm, with my head arched forward over my toes. I encountered a wall of wild whipping currents that were strong enough that they straightened me upright. With all my might I pushed ahead. Now my body was nearly perpendicular to the ground. Arms outstretched, I was almost air-born.
I saw my grandmother Lulu, crack open the back door. And in a steady, measured tone say, “Billy, you better come in now.” I seldom disobeyed her but momentarily I continued riding the turbulence, until I saw she was struggling to keep the door open. I immediately dropped to the ground. With my eyes half closed by the force of the wind I crawled into the backyard. With Nana holding the door slightly ajar I sprung inside. She pulled the door shut behind me and bolted it closed. We quickly took refuge away from the windows and moved into the middle of the house. Hours later the Hurricane subsided. I had survived unscathed in my attempt to fly like Superman.
Two years later, after going to a Tarzan movie, I attempted to fly again. Leaping from the limb of an Apple tree and completely missing my intended destination, a branch several feet away. I plummeted back to earth, breaking my left arm.
Watching Hollywood movies can be dangerous.
William Farley©2025
I got a kick out of those pants.