EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is the 47th in a series of stories adapted from William Kelley’s book, “Wind Socks, Grass Strips, and Tail-Draggers,” which is available for purchase at The News, 130 Park Place in downtown Alpena. Last week, Kelley had a dog-tired flight into Kansas City.

The sun peeked over the horizon as the folks arrived to meet me.

By the time we had reintroduced ourselves, loaded my gear into the car, and crossed the toll bridge to their home, it was very light, and 7:00.

Cathy, her mom, and I talked until 10:00, at which time I just could not go anymore. I had been in the air more than 14 hours, six of those at night. I was shown the bathroom upstairs and a bed where I could sleep.

I collapsed.

At 1:15 in the afternoon, I awoke and prepared to face the day. I was fixed a sandwich and shown the town.

Missouri is rich in folklore and history that dates back to the days our country was in the bud stage and full of promise. I was shown several monuments and buildings dedicated to the early generals and other leaders who helped hack a raw mass of resources into the civilized extreme of today. Those dedicated to the early cause would probably disown their “good” deeds if they knew the present state of affairs.

Harry Truman, the U.S. president after FDR, was raised in Independence, Missouri, which is about a handshake from Kansas City. There are many reminders of his status in the surrounding area. We viewed some of those markers and monuments as Cathy and her mother showed me the attributes of true Midwest hospitality. The tour included some of the parks and other items of natural beauty in Kansas City as we worked our way back to their home, a large, two-story frame house constructed in southern style.

Every gathering spot, whether village, city, township, or wherever, has its bright spots and reasons for being established. There has to be a resource. Lumber, water, minerals, soil, or some other resource was the reason folks stopped at that spot on their way to the promises of the West. Some of those resources were kept well-groomed, as represented in Kansas City, but there are areas that have become depressed as resources played out.

We ate supper and had a good visit. The mother and I discussed and cussed the social items of the day: ideas, attitudes, and the general trends in society. Then Cathy and I walked to a drug store, where I bought the Gordon Lightfoot album that featured “Me and Bobby McGee,” written by Kris Kristofferson. She had it at home and had played it for me. I fell in love with that song. While listening to songs of travel, we discussed what she should study in school.

The father was out of town with his job, so I never did meet him. He was a writer for a newspaper in Kansas City.

The family and I had a good philosophical discussion, a carryover from earlier. When midnight rolled around, I crawled into bed. The past two days had been full and taxing.

Finally, I got enough rest.

It was about 9:30 Central time that I rolled out the next morning. We had more discussion. All parties loved to think and talk.

I mentioned to Cathy that I would take her flying sometime, but the time never arrived. I don’t think her mother was too keen on the idea.

After lunch, I decided it was time to take to the air. It would have been relaxing and enjoyable to stay a few more days. However, by that time, I had been gone nearly a month, and it was time to get home.

One thing I learned on the trip and should have put into practice is that the air is more stable and pilot-friendly early in the day. By afternoon, the air has been heated and begun its upward movement, causing convective activity. When the air is unstable, development of afternoon thunderstorms is quite likely. That day was no exception.

They drove me to the airport and watched me load everything into the plane. They wondered how it all fit, just as my father had. While they stood around the plane, I snapped several pictures. It is easy to distinguish the pictures of Kansas City.

Flight Service told me the weather was good to the east. The family watched me take off. It was 3:30 their time. That is getting late in the day to begin a long, cross-country flight.

Winds were in my favor early in the flight.

However, later in the afternoon, I wasn’t making such good time.

Somewhere near Quincy, Illinois, I could see thunderstorm clouds. As I watched, they built into full-blown cumulonimbus clouds, with the anvil at the top.

I called Flight Service. They suggested I might be able to skirt the storm by flying to the north, up the Mississippi River, and come in behind it. The clouds were black to the north.

Instead, I chanced outrunning them by continuing to the east.

Check The News next week for the next installment. William Kelley was a teacher for 32 years and has been a pilot since 1966. He lives in Herron on the family farm where he was born and raised.