In those days, before the freeway, it was surrounded by a “pitch and rail” fence. We squeezed the tri-cycle under the rail and rode to the runway where we could check out the lights and triangular red and white boxes.
Suddenly the lights started flashing on and off! We looked up and saw a plane coming in to land. But the pilot saw us and flew off. Next thing we knew a fire engine came across the grass to the runway and pulled up next to us. The laughing firemen got out and loaded us into the truck, the tri-cycle in the back, and took us back to the hangar. They even let me turn on the siren!
Once back to the hangar we were given to the police who took us back to Michael’s place. Don’t know how they found out where to take us. It was reported on the front page of the Herald, even given priority over the AFL final that same day!
Brownie points to whoever can find the article. My name was printed as Greg Boyd and it was September of 1961!
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