This passage taught figurative language to middle school students.

Nate tentatively knocked on the nursing room door, “Hello, um, hello?”

A low husky voice shot out through the quiet corridor, “Yes, I’m here. What can I do for you?”

“My name is Nate. I e-mailed you last week about interviewing you today for my AP History class. You are Ms. Judy Moore, right?”

“Yes, indeed, that’s my name, but please just call me Ms. Judy. That’s what everyone calls me around here. I’m so glad you came, I could use some company, I’ve had a black cloud hanging over me all day.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” said Nate. “I hope you don’t mind me asking what’s wrong?”

“You know when you get to be my age, ninety-six, and you’re stuck in a place like this, it gets mighty lonesome at times,” said Judy. “Nothing, in particular, is wrong, my days all seem to blend together around here.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help keep you company today,” said Nate.

“Please, please sit down,” said Judy as she moved across the room, her feet shuffling like dry leaves in the wind.

“Well, where should we begin?” Nate asked as he looked at Judy. He knew that she was ninety-six years old, but she looked a lot younger. She moved slowly, but her face and her demeanor seemed like that of a younger woman’s.

“Let’s not jump the gun here, mister,” said Judy. “I’m here all day with nowhere to go, and a nice good looking fella like yourself comes in to talk to me. Hey, you’re welcome to come back tomorrow too. So, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

“Uh-ok, well… You know my name is Nate. I’m seventeen years old, and I’m a senior in high school. Geez, I can’t wait to be done with high school. I’m so ready for college if I get to go to college.”

“Why wouldn’t you get to go?” asked Judy.

“College costs a lot of money,” said Nate.

“Well, I didn’t go to college, and I turned out alright,” said Judy. “Plus sometimes college isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. A lot of people go to college and still don’t know what they want to do with their lives.”

“You’re right, Ms. Judy. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side,” said Nate. “Seems like some of the kids who get to go, take it for granted.”

“I live with a foster family,” Nate said. “I’ve kinda bounced around a lot over the past couple years. It seems like every time I get used to a place, it’s time to move. So there’s no point of trying to be on a team or anything. That’s part of the reason I like to get good grades in school. Doesn’t really matter where I am.”

Nate wondered what made him open up to this old lady he had just met a few minutes ago. He was typically a private person. Even the kids at school didn’t know he lived with a foster family or that he liked school. One of his least favorite things to do was to talk about himself.

“Well sir, I know a thing or two about being bounced around,” said Judy. My mama and daddy weren’t the most reliable of folks, so I lived with my grandparents.”

“I loved my grandaddy especially,” continued Judy. “He was a farmer, but had a plane and knew how to fly it. He used to take me up to crop dust when I was a little girl and taught me to fly too. Those were some of the happiest times of my life.”

“So that’s how you learned to fly,” said Nate.

“After they died, I had to move in with my Aunt Jane and Uncle Bill. Boy was my Uncle Bill a mean son-of-a-gun. He liked to drink, and when he got drunk, nobody in the world was safe.”

“Yeah, I know something about mean drunks too,” said Nate. “There was a lady like that in one of my foster homes. She was nice unless she was drunk, then she was downright nasty to everybody around her. I couldn’t stand that place. When she got drunk, I swear even the furniture would hide. Her dog seemed to know when things were about to go bad, and he would warn me. He’d come and find me and not leave my side.”

“Well, it sounds like you and I have a lot in common there kid,” said Judy. “I’m glad we both got away from those situations. Let me tell you about what I did to get out of mine.”

“It was back in 1942,” Judy began. “My granddaddy had died the year before, and I was living with my Aunt Jane and Uncle Bill. I was old enough to be on my own by then, and I heard on the radio that they were running out of pilots and pretty soon they’d be recruiting women. I knew what I had to do. I had to become a pilot and join up.”

***
October 1943
WOOSH, WOOSH, WOOSH went the airplanes above Judy’s head, as she walked into training camp at Avenger Field. She had finished commercial pilot training and was ready to take on her new role as a WASP (The Women’s Airforce Service Pilots).

“Well hello M’am, my name is Judy Moore, and I’m here to begin my training,” Judy said to the woman in the office.

Barely looking up, the woman said, “Moore, you’re in barracks number three, bay seven.”

“Yes, M’am,” said Judy, wondering to herself about a bay.

She soon found out from another trainee that a bay was a shared room. There were six cots and a locker for each woman and only two showers and toilets to share between two bays for twelve women. Although Judy was used to living with the bare basics, this was a shock even to her.

“Why, hello there,” said a woman with a bright smile walking towards her in a flight suit. “My name is Mary, I’ll be one of your instructors, pleased to meet you,” sticking her hand out in greeting.

“I’m Judy, pleased to meet you too.”

“Our training starts tomorrow at 6 AM sharp, so we better get some rest, and be ready to take off in the morning.”

“Are we flying in the morning?”

“No, Judy. It’s just a little pilot humor.”

“Oh, I see,” Judy chuckled. “I was hoping I’d get to test out that B-17 I saw flying out there.”

“Before long we’ll be up there, Judy.”

***
“Wow, did you get to fly one of those B-17s, Ms. Judy?” asked Nate.

“I sure did, I got to fly that B-17 and all kinds of other planes. You name it, we flew it back then. My favorite planes were probably the UC-78 Bamboo Bomber and the Douglas A-24 Banshee Bomber.”

“Wow, for some reason, I didn’t think the WASPs were allowed to fly as many planes as the men.”

“Yes, we sure did. We were just as good as the men, but they still sent us home in 1944 when the war was coming to an end. It took the Air Force another twenty years to recognize us as veterans.”

November 1943

“Judy, I think I’m going to be sick,” yelled Mary over the roar of the engine. “You gotta land this plane for me.”

Mary had gotten to Avenger field a few months before Judy and had more experience than Judy. This wasn’t the Banshee Bomber that Judy was used to flying. It was much larger B-17. She knew she had spent countless hours training to learn how to fly all kinds of planes. Flying was what she did. She breathed, ate, and lived flying.

“Hold on tight, Mary,” said Judy. “We’re gonna be fine. You just hold on.”

Judy felt herself trembling like a leaf. It was dark, and there was the occasional loud rumble of thunder in the distance. She was terrified but knew she couldn’t let Mary or the other WASPs down.

She focused on what she had learned in civilian pilot training and what she had learned every day since arriving here at Avenger Field.

Crash,  they hit some heavy turbulence as the rain came streaming down around them. A crack of thunder was close, and boom, a bolt of lightning hit the plane. Everything inside the cockpit flickered as the bolt was exiting the exterior of the aircraft.

She grabbed hold of the yoke, remembering the ABCs of emergency landings.

Talking to herself, she said, “A is for airspeed. I’ve got the right airspeed. I’m slowly trimming down the engine as we descend. B is for the best place to land, and I can see the runway from here. C is for a checklist. Landing gear, check. Hydraulic pressure, okay valve closed, check…”

“Mary, I think we’re going to be alright,” said Judy to a visibly ill Mary. “I’m bringing us down, piece of cake.”

***

“We descended and landed.  It wasn’t a smooth landing, but the plane was still intact. No one ever knew what a close call we had that night,” said Judy.

“Are you serious? No one noticed?” replied Nate.

“Yes, I’m serious. We really dodged a bullet that day,” said Judy. “Everyone was busy worrying about their own problems, their own flights, their families during the war,” said Judy. “We cared about each other, but we didn’t have the time to pay attention to everything that happened to the people around us.”

“Well, Ms. Judy, I need to get going before dinner. Could I come back and talk to you soon to hear more stories?” asked Nate.

“Why sure, how about tomorrow?”