Suddenly it seemed like the Model T was racing ahead by its own will, like a horse that’s been too long in a stall and just wants to gallop. As the Model T rattled along the grass, it bucked, bouncing me and the instructor on the small leather seat.
To crank the steering wheel was a hand-over-hand effort.
The car leaned wildly as I hooked a turn. The Ford’s axles worked independently, letting it twist and bounce — a deliberate design for the days when most American roads were rutted wagon tracks. It was the original off-road vehicle.
I couldn’t help but laugh with glee. Like a kid.
Personal time machine
When I was 10, my parents took us to visit the Smithsonian. In the National Air and Space Museum, I saw the famous Spirit of St. Louis, the Bell X-1 rocket-powered aircraft, and the Apollo 11 space capsule. I wanted to climb into the cockpits of each. I felt if I could just reach out and touch them, to sit where Chuck Yeager sat as he first broke the sound barrier, or to touch the yoke that Charles Lindbergh held during his solo flight across the Atlantic, or to strap myself in like Buzz Aldrin when he blasted from Earth toward the moon, that somehow I could feel with just a little more empathy what it might have been like at that moment in history and, in a way, take with me a little bit of that indomitable spirit.
“That’s the closest you will be to that point in history,” Hatch said. “To actually be in it, experience it, see it, touch it, smell it. You can get in your own personal time machine and jump back. You can get and access that, still.”
WAAAM is more than a museum, more than cars and planes. It’s a larger effort to make history not just something of the past, but something vital in the present.