Over the years, granddaddy would tell stories from flying around the flat plains of Wichita in the 1940's. One that I remember was while flying solo one day, he flew over a large field that a herd of cattle was grazing in. That day he was flying the J3 Cub without the doors.
As he flew over, the cows started running in all directions to escape the noise above them. He stuck his head out the door to look back at the running cows. When did, the wind took his glasses right off his face. He would end the story by saying that some cow down there was wearing his glasses.
