I was just shy of 15 years old when I experienced my first trip in an airplane. My godmother at the time treated me to a trip to New York City and her home in Westchester County, New York.

We caught the plane at the Wheeling-Ohio County Airport. It was in the summer of 1969 when commercial airlines frequented our airfield. That was a time when they rolled a pair of portable stairs to the plane and you climbed the steps without any fancy escalator or internal walkway.

Having never been on a plane, I didn’t know what to expect. I just know that the takeoff was swift and I wasn’t sure what I was feeling as my body adjusted to the flight. I really tried not to think about the fact that there was nothing under my feet except air!

As we approached the airport in New York, I could not believe my eyes. As the plane descended, I was mesmerized by the sights on the ground.

Then taking a taxi (something I had never done before either) into the city was a real jolt. There were so many vehicles flying at high speeds toward the city as my godmother pointed out places of interest. My head was literally spinning with so much to take it.

Because my godmother served as an ambassador to Lebanon, she afforded me the memorable experience of seeing the United Nations up close and personal. Although I did not understand a word the people around me were saying, I knew my godmother held a place of respect among the people with whom she was meeting that day. If only I could know her feelings about the state of the Middle East today.

The rest of my trip included seeing the Statue of Liberty, shopping at Macy’s and staring up at the skyscrapers around me. I was the epitome of a tourist in a city nearly as large as the state where I was born. At least it felt that way.

Throughout my adult life, I have traveled by plane several times. A most memorable trip was aboard a military plane that included several other journalists with then-Gov. Joe Manchin. It was a trip to see first-hand how some of our troops were safeguarding the border with Mexico. That trip included an interesting flight aboard a Black Hawk helicopter.

Nowadays I am content to sit in my front yard and watch and hear the planes fly over our humble home. You would be amazed at the number and types of aircraft that make their way into our local airport that serves the greater Wheeling area. And now with the pilot program in place for students, the sky’s the limit for even more development there. In the meantime, I will keep looking up.

Heather Ziegler can be reached via email at hziegler@theintelligencer.net.