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:
- During the COVID-19 quarantine, the author, who found authentic spiritual connection at an unconventional racetrack Mass, turned to flying as her "holiest thing" when churches closed.
- Her quarantine flights included a poignant, socially distanced fly-out lunch with friends at a struggling rural airport and recalling an amusing story of a pilot using a Cessna to remotely open his garage.
- The piece concludes with a heartfelt wish for a swift return to normal life and the cherished routines of aviation once the pandemic subsides.
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