Stops on a Dime

The wheels were coming down. I could make out familiar landmarks. The plane was lowering into DFW Airport. Now we were over the runway. It wouldn’t long now. There was a rumble and a screech of tires. And there was a powerful force dragging us to a stand still.

The wheels kept turning. We weren’t at the gate yet. The test was not complete. The airplane rumbled along and eventually crossed the center road. We were approaching the terminal ramp. The giant plane pivoted and crept forward. We were almost there. Then, as if on a signal, there was a short lurch. We had stopped.

I gave a silent cheer. Barbara Jean looked at me. She seemed to say ??? I beamed. “We stopped. Everything worked.” It was my first ride on a 787. And it stopped on a dime.

I got out the Canon and took a selfie. Here it is.


Thanks for all your good work.

About John Blanton

I'm a retired engineer living in San Antonio, Texas. I have served in the Navy, raced motorcycles, taken scads of photos and am usually a nice guy. I have political and religious opinions, and these opinions tend to be driven by an excess of observed stupidity. Gross stupidity is the supposed target of many of my posts.
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