As I drove home a vivid memory from my early teen years struck me. I lived 2 miles from the New Orleans airport. I used to ride my bike down to the westmost runway that ended at the swamp and lay down on the levee at the end of the runway to watch jets landing just over my head. There was a white box with a tinted window in the top right at the end of the runway I’d put my head over and imagine the controllers in the tower would see strange imagery on their screens. That may explain my Swiss cheese memory.
