The first airplane I ever actually touched was a Grumman twin amphibian, N4122A. It was sometime in the mid-60's. I believe the airplane was owned at that time by some branch of the Tennessee Carter family although I could certainly be wrong about that. We owned a vacation cottage on Boone Lake in Sullivan County, TN, just a few miles from Tri-Cities Airport (TRI).

When we went out to the cottage in the summer, we always took jugs of drinking water and our grocery supplies with us, and it was the children's job to unload the car. I won't say I was lazy, but I will admit to not particularly liking that job. On the day in question, I hopped out of the car and ran around the corner of the cabin to play. The sight I saw made me stop in my tracks and call my mother.

"Mommy, there's a plane in our front yard!"

I was told in no uncertain terms to come back and help unload the car.

"But there's a plane on the beach! There IS!"

My mother's look at this point suggested I was going to be reprimanded for telling tales at any second.

"Art Roper's there with his Jeep, too!"

This got her attention. An airplane in our front yard was clearly fantasy, but Art was a near neighbor and his trusty Jeep was usually around if something needed to be hauled or towed. Mother left what she was doing and with a look that told me I'd be in for it if I was lying, she came around the corner of the cottage. Then she immediately began screaming for my father:

"J.D., J.D, come here, there's a plane on our front yard!"

For some reason everyone believed her where they had not believed me (harumph), but there was indeed an airplane sitting on our sloping, slightly rocky beach. Art Roper was there helping the "plane people" get boards under the wheels. I do not recall the names of the folks who were flying the airplane.

The story we heard (which I have no way of verifying) was that the airplane had landed down the lake a mile or so but that a pontoon had started taking on water. Realizing that they could not take off and that the airplane was slowly sinking, they asked who had a level lake access. Boone Lake is a TVA flood plain lake and is generally characterized by fairly steep sides. However, someone knew that the Hattaway's place had a sloping point with a wide beach covered mostly with sandstone rock less than 8" in diameter. They had to get the airplane under the Devault Bridge. They landed on our beach, found the nearest local person, and started to secure the aircraft, which is when we showed up.

The airplane was with us for 3 or 4 days while they made some repairs. The reason I know the tail number is that we had home movies of the final preparations, the push out, the take off, and finally the overflight and wing waggle by which they said good-bye and thanks.

A lot of time has passed. I felt if I was to have a mid-life crisis, it had better be a lot of fun, so at age 42 I have started to work on a pilot's license. My mother is still terrified to think of me in a small airplane but I've told her my instructor will always be with me and for some reason she seems to believe that. I don't know why... she didn't believe anything I said when I was a kid!