Christmas morning, 1929. Rockland, Maine, airfield – not a single speck of snow swirled in the gentle breeze.
Blue heavens stretched for kilometers over the beautiful horizon. Captain William Wincapaw checked the gauges on his single-engine floatplane and took a deep breath. The propellers began to revolve after the switch was flipped.
Across the seats behind him, a dozen festively wrapped packages awaited special delivery.
Wincapaw smiled, his cheeks red from the cold air, as he looked at the assemblage of Yuletide spirits bouncing to the engine’s motorized beat.
As the plane took off, folks around the northeast shore started to stir. Soon, they’d be around adorned trees, exchanging gifts, and turning tiny moments into precious memories.
However, Wincapaw would not be among them. Instead, he went on a thankfulness mission, which, to his delight, has become an 87-year tradition. It was the first flight of “The Flying Santas.”