Ann Can Fly

Given I've been wandering into past memories and current dreams of my kidlets, thought I'd share a story of a book both of my daughters could never get enough of.

The book was kept at camp, which was actually the camp of my ex's parents, but it was considered everyones. An older trailer, circa 1955 or so, it was safely ensconsed in the hills of Vermont, where my ex mother in law grew up. Beautiful country...

Camp visitations were a spring, summer, and fall affair, if we went in winter usually it was for day trips only. The first few years of our relationship, we did go up to camp for a weekend or two in winter, on one occasion recall walking in from the road through deep snow up to my chest. Walking even 500 feet takes a whole lot out of you.

I'm remiss in not yet sharing the title, but of course memories are not linear, they have all manner of side branches which also pull on my mindstrings and wish to be shared. Ann Can Fly, by Fred Phleger, was a 1950's vintage children's book.

Both daughters were equally enamoured with the story of Ann. No day at camp would pass without the story of Ann ringing through the camp. The storyline remains clear in my memory. Ann was an essential part of the nightly covering of each child, and given this was camp, sometimes one reading would not suffice. Occasionally, I'd glance over to see lowered eyes, and confident they were now asleep, would cease reading, only to be met with immediate calls for continuance. On other occasions, the eyes remained closed, and a whispering of the beginnings rhythmic snoring would leave their lips.

I am not exaggerating in saying both of my daughters took their first reading steps with this book. I was blessed not once, but twice, in witnessing their first strollings in phonetic pronunciation of what their eyes took in as print. Tissues had to be within easy striking distance on those occasions.

What was really remarkable, and what made this such a kewl story for them to read, was the nature of the book. Ann is a young woman about to head away to camp for the week. A resident of San Diego, camp for her is in Colorado. Her dad happens to be a pilot and owns a small plane, so he will fly Ann to camp.

They first start with pre-flight doings, checking charts and inspecting the plane, then radio for clearance for take off. Soon Ann is excitedly observing the scenery far below. Later they stop for refueling on Lake Mead, then continue onward. At the end of the first day of the two day journey, they stay at a small airport managed by Native Americans.

In the morning, they repeat the pre-flight activity, and head back into the sky. Once airborne, Ann's dad asks if she would like to try flying. Surprised at the offer, she nevertheless accepts enthusiastically. Ann is a quick study with the controls, and has them flying along smoothly. They spot storm clouds ahead, and dad takes over once again. After passing the inclement weather, they find camp is near. Other campers are gathered on the lake beach, and Ann takes over the controls for a fly by. The campers spot Ann flying and cheer her on.

Instead of standard 50's fare teaching young women how to keep a home, here was one promoting the notion of women doing anything they could imagine. In searching out the imagery for this posting, the very first google item was " When I was 5 years old I read a children's book called Ann Can Fly." ~ Cherilynn Morrow, astronomer and educator.

All of my memories were validated in that one quotation. Thank you, Cherilynn. Thank you, Fred Phleger, and thank you, R & K.