Whidbey Island Air Raid

by Margaret Moore

It was the first day of our holidays, and we had made our way as far as Whidbey Island in northern Washington State. The dark sky was threatening, but we didn't worry as we anticipated a cozy night in our trailer. Keeping mainly to the back roads, we finally crossed the bridge at beautiful Deception Pass. The view was magnificent, and we were in awe of the beauty of God's handiwork everywhere we looked. Knowing we had to have electrical hook-up for the night, we bypassed the state park and carried on to the next RV park. It looked pretty good, so we pulled in, registered and settled in for a quiet, peaceful evening</#209>or so we thought!

All of a sudden, a tremendous roar descended on us. What is that? An air show? An impending invasion? World War III?

We knew there was a naval airbase nearby. They were probably closing down the place for the night. Wrong!

Five minutes later came another thunderous sound, like 500 trucks revving their engines. What's going on? Then there was another plane overhead, so close our grandson's slingshot could have hit it. Then came another and another. What are they doing? Don't they ever go home for supper?

After this went on for an hour, my husband went over to the office. Were we camped on a runway? How long would this keep up?

The manager shoved his hat back on his head and growled, "Didn't cha read the sign?"

"What sign?" asked Fred.

"The one in plain sight, and no refunds," he stated defiantly.

My husband adjusted his bifocals and read: "This park is directly under the flight plan of the naval airbase and may be noisy at times."

The manager continued his explanation, knowing we were trapped for the night: "Tonight they are practising their landing and takeoff on aircraft carriers (using the airport tarmac) until 1:15 in the morning. Sorry!"

So began our evening, which was anything but quiet and peaceful. It was raining, so we didn't feel like getting in the car and going for a drive. There was no use going to bed with this noise. We read, played some table games, and read some more. Finally, at 12:30 a.m. the noise stopped. Quiet. Peace. How thankful we were for it!

As we lay in bed talking about it, we thought of people in war-torn countries who knew that the noise of airplanes would bring down bombs full of death, fear and terror. How thankful we were that even though the noise was deafening, these planes had not harmed us. We thanked our Heavenly Father for His blessings and went to sleep.

Margaret Moore lives in Abbotsford, B.C.

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