At seven years old Kent Silverhill decided he would buy a totem pole. He’d seen one on a visit to the American Museum near Bath and there was nothing he wanted more. He would be the envy of everyone, particularly of his classmate who had a plastic model of Thunderbird 4.
Unfortunately, totem poles were a little tricky to get hold of in England.
Undeterred, Kent decided to carve his own and got as far as whittling the bark off a stick before abandoning the venture. This set the tone for many future ambitious projects. The digging of an underground fort in the back garden was another example. After excavating a hole large enough to put his foot in, he came to the conclusion he wasn’t cut out for manual labour and his dream of living in subterranean luxury came to an end.
One project which actually did bear fruit was the building of a hang glider when he was fifteen. With the help of a couple of friends it was a project which was seen to completion. They found some sturdy lengths of bamboo to use for spars, a large sheet of builder’s plastic to use for the covering and several balls of string to lash the whole lot together. A fine wing was constructed and was carried ceremoniously to a nearby park which was to serve as the launching ground. At one end of the playing field there was a steep bank about twenty feet high and on the day of the test flight there was a strong breeze blowing up it. The would-be aviators took one look at the contraption they had made and two of them were rather relieved when Kent volunteered to be the test pilot.
It was only when he stood at the top of the bank, holding the wing above his head and grasping the main spar in his hands, that Kent had his first misgivings. How was he going to steer the thing?
His friends assured him all he had to do was go in a straight line. There was nothing in front for quite some distance and there was no need to to turn. All that was required was to descend gently. Reassured, he ran forward a few steps and launched himself off the top of the bank.
Instead of sailing gracefully down the slope he rose a little and edged forward against the breeze. His friends’ faces were turned up towards him. He floated forth from the top of the bank. The ground dropped away below his feet.
His earlier misgivings came rushing back. The ground looked awfully far away. How was he going to guide his wing to a lower level?
He was saved from making any attempts by an explosive noise from the main spar. The strain had proved to much and the bamboo had cracked. Kent and his fragile craft plummeted to the ground.
He landed on his rear end but miraculously escaped major injury. He hobbled home and never went hang gliding again.
On leaving school he spent some time dithering about what to do next then started a series of jobs including working as a waiter at a drive-in roadhouse, a supervisor in a plastics moulding factory and laying brick paving. During this time he studied engineering and became an Industrial Engineer. Later he changed careers and became one of the “turn it off and on again” brigade.
In the workplace he learnt more about what makes humans tick than his life up to that point had prepared him for. He realised people have a lot more in common than they have differences.
Now, with three grown up children and two cats, he thinks he just might start growing up too.
He has also written a fantasy book for young people and might be persuaded to publish it one day.