September 24, 1972 Executive Airport Sacramento, California. A beautiful day. It was for an air show. Fifty years ago, a needless tragedy happened, killing twenty-four people. Twelve children celebrating a birthday at Ferrel's Ice Cream parlor. It is located right across the road from the airport. My parents took me to this same Farrels for my sixth birthday. My name is James. I am fifty-six years old, and I was at that show. Just a couple months until my seventh birthday. My brother was just a few months old, and my sister was five. I am a witness to what was the worst airplane crash in history. Fifty years and parts of that day are vividly clear in my memory. Like the morning of the air show. My dad had told me about the air show a week before. I am an aviation nut. I just completed my first airplane model. With my imagination, I was already a jet pilot. I wanted to join the Air Force because of that model. So to say I was eager to get there would be an understatement. Finally, ...
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