Steve Haley: Daring young Eagles and their flying creations

By Terry McCormick | on August 29, 2023

During the late 1960s into the early 1970s, Americans were fascinated with space travel and moon landings. During this time, the Guthrie Eagles entertained themselves with paper airplanes.

We used COUNTLESS sheets of loose-leaf notebook paper to construct the perfect projectile. Our prototype was a slender paper model of the Supersonic Transport or SST. It was not long before we became bored. We could all quickly fold paper into the SST.

Our collective goal was to determine who could devise a new pattern that could travel the farthest and stay in the air the longest. Someone produced a square design. The wing edges were folded upward ever so slightly. The improved model occasionally made an aerial barrel roll or spiral landing. The SST flew straight before landing. The new square plane brought games and delights to the playground. We were so easily entertained.

We all knew what was going to happen next, although no one dared say it. We had to know how well they would perform inside. The outside elements wreaked havoc on our delicate creations. We needed an empty classroom or auditorium to test our creativity.

For the indoor worthiness test to occur, the playground pilots needed means, motive and opportunity. We patiently waited for the chance to try our planes inside. During Mr. Rust’s Kentucky History class, he stopped halfway through the period. He said, “Read silently until the bell rings” and stepped out. We had our motive to see how well they could perform unabated by the weather. We had means because every textbook or pocket housed a plane. Now, we had the opportunity.

The room was so quiet you could hear the clock on the classroom wall tick. Our imaginations took control. Someone threw a plane. Then another and another until the air looked like a ticker-tape parade on New York’s Fifth Avenue after a Yankees World Series championship. On that day paper planes flew and laughter rang in the young hearts of the Guthrie Eagles.

If we had been paying attention, we would have heard him coming. The keyring Mr. Rust wore on his belt jingled softly as he walked. It was like a bell around a cat’s neck, and this cat was ready to pounce. We were unaware of how close he was. As Mr. Rust stepped inside, a plane buzzed by his nose. It passed so close to his face that his eyes almost crossed. The silence that fell on Mrs. Juanita Morgan’s eighth-grade homeroom was profound. The quietness was so sudden and deafening that it was like an Apollo splashdown. We were caught and now humbly awaited our punishment. Our collective minds were conjuring up insane punishments. Mr. Rust, as judge, jury, and executioner, quickly determined the just disciplinary action for this dastardly crime. Everyone had to bend over, pick up a plane in their mouths, walk to the waste can and THROW IT AWAY. Our paper creations met their demise.

He began at the row closest to him and silently pointed. “Guilty?” Guilt was admitted by slowly self-administering the punishment. When Mr. Rust pointed at me, I firmly shook my head, no. I heard someone say, “Steve, you threw the first one.” I was resolute in my innocence. Mr. Rust stared hard at me, then pointed to the next student.

Years later, I was sitting at the dining room table showing my son how to carefully fold a paper plane. With a smile on my face, my thoughts returned to that spring day when paper airplanes filled the room and I wondered if I did throw the first paper plane.