For one, think of the history of these planes: How many people worked on assembly lines to make this specific plane? How many hours did it take to build it? How hot and sweaty were the factories? How many people had to learn new skills to build it? What did the people who built this specific plane talk about on their lunch breaks? What did they eat for lunch? Who packed their lunches for them -- wives for the men, themselves or roommates for the Rosies, themselves for single men? -- and what were they thinking about when they packed the lunch for that day? How proud were the workers when the plane was finished and rolled out the hangar doors? What were the life stories of the men who flew it? Whose head(s) would have been visible in the cockpit? (Look at the picture again -- Can you imagine them there?) What did the maintenance crew members think about while working on its day-to-day routine? "Tighten this screw"? "I miss my wife"? "I wonder how big my kids have gotten"? "What's for dinner tonight"?
Then the plane itself: This huge, massive thing that worked on amazing rules of physics that most people don't understand; this loud plane that rumbled through the sky and could bring feelings of pride, fear, or hope; this metal tube that was the everyday work office for some people...
And the art! What a shame to just leave our California gal to rot! And for the artists who did the art on planes, how did they feel about the fates of their work? Did they wish they could take it with them? Did they wish there was some way to transfer the art of the plane, either to another plane or to a canvas or a photograph? Or were they so talented that it meant nothing to them to leave something behind (which is something I often wonder about people who are artistically talented)?
Looking back at my grandfather's picture (?) as I read Dave's comment, I felt immense sadness. That junky-looking plane once was majestic, mighty, shiny, and full of hope and potential... and now she's just broken down and left behind.
*sniffle*
Reading Dave's comment also made me wonder more about where/when my grandfather was stationed, so I decided to Google his squadron. (Note to self: try to Google his different units again. It's been a while since we've done this.) One of the results listed one of the airfields mentioned in my research of the American Beauty; I don't know what that means for me, but it was noteworthy in my head. If nothing else, it's "Hey! I know that name now!" and "Everything's related!"
And then I had another "Everything's related" moment: a site suggested that P-38s might have been one of the planes my grandfather was in contact with while he was in the South Pacific. I'm transcribing an oral history this week, and the interviewee (who is also someone I've worked with in the past) talks about his family living near Lockheed's P-38 factory in WWII and his father building P-38s... Wouldn't it be wild if my grandfather worked on or near a P-38 that the father of a man I know in-person helped build? I know that's a stretch, but wouldn't it be mind-boggling?!?
So now I obviously have more research to do: researching each of my grandfather's units with the rough dates he was in them to see if there's new or additional information out there (using trusty Google, but also Library of Congress and the National Archives); going back through my mother's files to see if there's anything about what types of planes my grandfather worked on (I remember a transcript or something showing the different type of maintenance he was certified for, but was there anything that listed the types of planes he was certified for, or had worked on?); ... and I'm sure more stuff will come to mind as I get to work.
All of this research makes me wish again/more that my grandfather was still around. Looking at his photos and then doing the research has brought up so many questions for me! Formerly working at a museum of WWII planes always made me wish I could talk to him and ask him stuff; and the location of the museum (being on the same base he was once stationed at) brought up questions every day. I wish I could ask him all of these things, or just talk to him about his life and service.
