For the past three years I’ve lived across the street from Penmar Golf Course, where Harrison Ford’s beautiful WWII training airplane came to rest yesterday, near the 8th hole’s lovely tee. The scene yesterday was chaotic, even if the landing was not. My neighbors report mostly a silent descent (the engine had failed), interrupted by the sound of the plane clipping some branches and skidding to its final spot, where it remained last night, lit by emergency lights, like a morbid display in a war museum, a few feet from the street.
The course—and my house—sits just west of Santa Monica Airport, a general aviation facility in service since the 1920’s. Back then, the landing strip was surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. Flying in and out of Santa Monica must have been not only a gorgeous flying experience (the shoreline is les...
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