On Nov. 10, 1970, I arose early with a feeling of apprehension and dread. I had never flown, but at 11:40 that morning, I was scheduled to board an American Airlines flight in Cincinnati. The weather was unpleasant, and as I drove from Georgetown to the airport, it got worse.
When the plane lifted off the runway, clouds and mist were so dense that I could hardly see the end of the wings of that Boeing 707. In a moment, we were totally engulfed in clouds and nothing was visible. I was, indeed, tense, but I didn’t say anything to anyone.
In a few minutes, the situation began to change. As the plane ascended, the fog and mist became less dense and began to disappear. Rays of sunshine broke through the clouds. In a short time, the plane was above the clouds, and the sun was shining brilliantly.
My apprehension and dread began to disappear. Then, looking out the window, I remembered something I had heard all my life: Every cloud has a silver lining.
Never miss a local story.
Most of us have lived long enough to discover that the path of life is not always smooth. There are times when storms rage, but when the sunlight breaks through the clouds, hope returns.