Eli and disagree whether this is cool or not. I have never seen a special tephillah for an airplane, and it’s my blog, so here are the pics.
On the subject of the novelty of air travel, I found a FANTASTIC letter from my great uncle Fritz describing his first air travel. The beginning of the letter described a little bit about uncle Fritz’s duties in Greece, very interesting, and worthy of its own post later. The airplane excerpt is found below:
Xylotymbou, 27th Nov 1947
. . . I had a fine experience – my first flight. It took only two hours from Haifa to Nicosia, besides one passage through a rain cloud we had splendid weather. Start and Landing were as smooth as butter, during the flight I had a sentiment as if riding by a big car on a very smooth road above the few clouds and between azur-blue fields. Generally Erez has a nicer view than Cyprus – I was not yet in the mountains on the other side of the island which must be remarkably beautiful. In the towns I visited I saw quite interesting ruins of the Crusaders time. Perhaps I shall buy a small photo if I shall stay here a longer time (being paid an adequate salary) and then you will receive in due time snapshots.
Dear Margalith and both children are well. She and Aviam were with me on the aerodrome, I decided to have him enjoy the great event of seeing his Dad flying, it so enriches his feeling(-and, of course, it enlarges his prestige in the kindergarten greatly – -). Dear Justintoo was with us at my departure. Dear M. May have a quiet time at home, if she only wants – less work than usually. My cattle will be moved into another chaver’s cow-shed who will be paid for the work, plowing and sowing are done by another comrade. . . .
I like to think that these two pieces from the Oma archives are contemporary, of an age when flying on an airplane was an event signifigant that your whole extended family came out to see you off. In some ways I mourn the loss of the fantastic aspect of air travel. Even my children are not amazed that people are able to fly through the air. Alas . . .