Susan Cloke ended her most recent column with “What Say You?”
I’ve lived right under the takeoff path (just west of Lincoln) for over 33 years. There are certainly many moments when the sound of the planes is incredibly annoying, although I find the jets far less annoying than the propeller craft, largely because they’re out of the way in seconds, rather than s-t-r-u-g-g-l-i-n-g flatulently along for what seems like an eternity, like the propeller ones.
But I am in favor of keeping the airport.
The airport is interesting; it’s fascinating to visit, and to show off to out-of-town visitors.
Aircraft of all kinds, frequently classic craft, fly over. Given the hundreds of thousands of over flights I’ve experienced, I know of just one that produced a mishap of any sort, which cannot be said of Lincoln Boulevard, right next to my house.
So many complaints come from people who moved in, presumably knowing the airport was there, and then began to whine about the noise, risks, smells, much like people who moved into Venice by Ocean Front Walk and promptly set about to gentrify the area.
The airport is certainly not an unmixed blessing, and most the time I was just settling into a lovely stretch in some music on my stereo when a streak of six or so planes began grinding along overhead – if I had a button right then that would erase the airport, it would be long gone. But soon, all is forgiven.
What I really want to know is why in the world is the airport abbreviated “SMO” instead of “SMA”, (or called “Santa Monica Oirport”)?
Ozone Street, Santa Monica
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