The model rocket engines were designed to be – and were – quite safe. Nonetheless, they were pyrotechnics, and they produced a projectile that moved quite fast. It was good practice at being careful to launch a rocket powered by one, using electrical igniters and a sort of detonator, complete with safety key, to set them off. (And of course, being boys, we violated various parts of the “Model Rocketeer’s Code,” which forbade adding explosive warheads, launching rockets at targets on the ground, etc. It didn’t specifically forbid making a sort of Bazooka out of a length of pipe and a naked B-6-6 engine with a nose cone glued on, but it probably should have. But we violated those rules carefully.)
No one was hurt, and no property was seriously damaged. But we got a lot out of the process and still have good memories. More, I suspect, than if we’d spent a comparable amount of time on iPads.
Which is why when I saw that kid chasing after his returning Estes rocket it made me happy.
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