Peter was my best friend in elementary school. He came from a large Catholic family where he was one of eight kids. Peter had a grandmother who —in 1937—disembarked from the Hindenburg in Boston, its penultimate stop just prior to its catastrophic explosive demise in Lakehurst, New Jersey.
I can recall her telling me how smooth the ride was. She was impressed with how pleasant the experience had been. In her conversation with me about the trip, she managed to convey the sense of grandeur that went with going on a voyage on this large zeppelin filled with highly combustible hydrogen gas. Of course, she was grateful that fate had her ending her part of the trip before the Lakehurst disaster.
You may wonder if there is a parabolic/allegorical element to my passing on this factual story today. To borrow an expression from a one time governor of Alaska, “You betcha.”