An 8mm black and white Bell and Howell movie camera whirred. Dad was filming a commercial version of the DC-3 preparing for take off from Philadelphia airport. It was the mid-fifties and I watched the plane by my Dad’s side from an observation deck.

He took me there often. His love of airplanes became my love of airplanes.

Somehow the DC-3 held me with it’s simple majesty of line, size and form. Nose pointing up, sturdy “legs”, dual engines proudly challenging the sky.

The engines erupted and the plane moved out of my sight but not out of my soul.

Around the age of 54 my wife bought me the DC–3 United version. While I still track them down at airshows, museums and airports, and side roads across America, I can always simply reach to the wooden model DC-3 on the shelf in my living room.

With it in my hands, I can relive the wonder of that day with my father, dream of riding in one someday, and simply appreciate the grace and beauty of spectacularly unique airplane.

- Paul Blundin
Brookhave, PA