Funny how life is.

When I was a kid we lived in the flight path of a tiny airfield between Portland and the Columbia River and airplanes flew so low over our house we could wave at the pilot. And he would wave back.

We discovered one of those daredevils was a neighbor behind us named Tex Rankin. He rented Peggy Nylander's parents' house.

I knew this because Peggy told me. We were both about six years old in 1926 and had no secrets.

Talk to most any pilot and he will probably tell you he is familiar with the legendary Rankin. Or you can likely read about him on a computer search.

Tex flew an orange biplane called a Waco, which we kids pronounced "wocko."

I got a thrill out of seeing and hearing this flying miracle and sometimes my brother and I would hike the couple of miles to the airfield and hang around what we called Rankin Field and scrounge chunks of shock cord scraps. The mechanics used the rubber repairing landing gear to take up the shock of the wheels hitting the field .

I was hooked on building model airplanes out of balsa wood from age 8. I built a Vought Corsair, a Ben Howard's Ike and still have a half-built P38 fighter I will finish and give to former Highline Times publisher Al Sneed, who flew a real one in WWII.

Amazingly, in 1940 we bought a house in McMicken Heights on the hill overlooking what is now Sea-Tac Airport where noisy airplanes are truly a big issue for thousands of residents.

If you fly a lot, the Highline community is a great place to live east or west of the airport. Not so good north and south.
Scores of pilots have called Normandy Park, Shorewood and Gregory Heights home. Still do.

If you want to wave at the pilot you can do so while playing golf at Tyee.

But don't expect him to wave back. He likely hesitates to take a hand off the joystick.