Another Excerpt from my novel, “All Fools Down”

Four weeks later, in July of 1957, William Peter Bennett stood in a line of young men, boys really, waving goodbye to mothers and fathers. The boys tramped up a metal stairway that had been rolled up to an airliner with “Braniff Airways” painted on its side in big red letters. Midway Airport was a few short miles west of Will’s neighborhood and all its troubles. His thoughts were filled with a mixture of joy and guilt as he picked out his mother’s tiny figure and saw her waving one hand and wiping her eyes with the other. Vincent had shouted his goodbye on his way out the front door to work earlier that morning. Glad to see me go, Will thought.
He had fixed his mother’s position below the last letter in the Braniff Airlines sign on the terminal building, and when he reached the airliner door he turned to scan the crowd one last time. He had left a message for his father, but knew in his heart that Martin Bennett would not be there. Still, he looked for a head of wavy brick-red hair, a head that would be above the crowd. When he couldn’t find it, he turned back to his mother for a final wave and ducked through the doorway into the airliner.


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