At the south end of Minneapolis-St. Paul International airport, adjacent to an east-west runway, there is a single row of parking spaces off Post Road. This provides a vantage point to watch planes landing and taking off. If the weather is nice, a few planespotters congregate here among the loitering limo drivers and couriers who wait here for their next pickup. While thousands of south metro residents have installed expensive, elaborate soundproofing in order to forget their proximity to the airport, there are those who want to be as close to the roar of jets as they can be.
On a recent night, Phil from Richfield was one of several spotters—all guys in their 20s and 30s in need of a shave—who sat alone in their cars with aviation band radios. By switching between different frequencies for different runways and cross-referencing the chatter with a flight schedule, he figured out that the 727 landing just then was from Omaha. Beyond the raw appeal of watching these improbably huge vehicles get off the ground, the spotters said they find something reassuring in the buzz of commerce and recreation that plane traffic represents.
Birdwatchers get heart palpitations at the sight of a flame-colored tanager or a red-throated pipit. Do planespotters have similar epiphanies? Phil got a distant look in his eye when he recalled how six Blue Angels jets took off in unison on one MSP runway a few years ago, and another time—five years ago in Miami—when he watched a Concorde jet throttle up over the beach on which he was sunbathing. “That was incredible!” he said. “Of course, I’ve always been a plane junkie. I used to ride my bike here to watch planes when I was seven or eight. I’m 34 now.”
Phil’s interest in planes pervades his life. He was laid off as a baggage handler following the drop in air travel after September 11, but he was just recalled for duty. Any big plans after returning to work? “Maybe I’ll finally take some flying lessons,” he said with a wink from behind his aviator sunglasses.
Several spots down, Bill, a burly man in a sleeveless T-shirt, and his wife Sharon brought their two sons. They watched the planes from folding chairs in the back of their pickup. Bill explained that the airplane noise drowns out the sound of their TV set in their South St. Paul home, especially in the early evening. “So we figure we might as well come down and watch them,” he said, without a trace of irritation. They come to watch planes two or three times each week. The visits have recently taken on a near–ecstatic quality for the kids, who are looking forward to their first plane ride—destination Disney World—in a few weeks. “We like the planes ’cause they’re loud!” hollered one of the boys.
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