Nearly every suburban parish in (heavily Catholic) Cincinnati has a Saturday afternoon or evening Mass but, for lots of reasons, I’ve just been going through the motions—never feeling too “connected.” But there’s a racetrack near Lunken Airport and, about a year ago, a friend introduced me to a small community of “backtrackers.” Because of their work schedules and transportation issues, these stable hands, trainers, hot walkers, veterinaries, farriers, exercise riders and jockeys can’t make traditional church services. So, my friend, a racing enthusiast, arranged for a priest to come and say Mass at a back-of-the-track building on Sunday mornings. It’s bare bones, with a card table serving as the altar in front of a bunch of vending machines, betting windows and a pool table. Now, I know absolutely nothing about horse racing (and probably less about being a Christian), but this simple, short, beautifully devout celebration is my kind of church.
Sunday Service at an Airport
Key Takeaways:
- The author finds spiritual connection in an unconventional "backtrackers" Mass but, during the coronavirus quarantine, turns to flying as her new "holiest thing," finding solace and freedom in the skies.
- She recounts a socially distanced fly-out lunch with friends at a rural airport, highlighting the ingenuity and community spirit among pilots adapting to lockdown, alongside observations on the evolving state of small airfields.
- The article shares an entertaining anecdote about an inventive old pilot who used a Cessna to open his garage door, illustrating the unique character and problem-solving spirit within the aviation community.
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