Taking Wing At The Dome -- Turnout For Paper-Plane Event Less Than Hoped

It wasn't supposed to be such a long shot, flying paper airplanes off the 300 level of the Kingdome.

It was supposed to be a resurrection of simple, clean fun. A boon to charities. A final nostalgic look inside the soon-to-be-bulldozed stadium.

Certainly, the folks who showed up knew how to have a fine time with a little paper and scotch tape.

"I never imagined something I did for goofy fun as a kid would be something I'd do for goofy fun as an adult," said David Bucher. "Also, I'm paying homage to the Kingdome. I'm saying goodbye here."

But the event's disappointed promoter felt burned. He pronounced yesterday's "Last Great Indoor Paper Airplane Contest at the Kingdome" a business and charitable-organization casualty of the World Trade Organization meeting. The first paper-airplane flying contest was held in 1978, the last in 1987.

"I don't know if we're even going to break even," said Christopher Ragen, who owns Monumental Publishing and plans an insurance claim with the WTO organizing committee to regain losses. "They should be held accountable."

Eight charities were supposed to get a share of the proceeds.

Yesterday's contest had to be rescheduled at the last minute so police and Metro could use the stadium for a staging area during WTO protests.

There was too little time to get the word out.

Instead of the many thousands of people the promoter expected over a two-day event last week, roughly 2,000 showed up for a one-day contest yesterday. They paid a small admission fee and a buck for every four pieces of official airplane paper. If they brought a nonperishable item for the food bank, they got a discount.

None of the participants seemed a bit upset by the small turnout. All the more chances for them.

Every imaginable shape and strategy was employed.

Tiny back flaps to lift the nose. Extra, extra folds. Skinny jets. Blunt-nosed dive bombers. Wide-winged floaters with upright tails. And the quickly outlawed sling-shot-powered.

Kids and adults launched planes with purposeful vigor, then watched spellbound as their creations floated on fate to the floor.

The idea was simple. Fly your plane into one of the big circles marked on the Kingdome floor. Inside each circle was a prize like an autographed baseball, a dinner certificate, a tool set. One of the big prizes was a new Volkswagen Beetle. The winner had to float a plane into the sunroof.

For many the real object of the day didn't seem to be winning prizes or even flying planes.

"We just like to throw things, especially when you can't get in trouble," said Steve Christensen, who came with his close buddy Josh, 11, who calls him dad. "We need something to do. We can't sit around and watch cartoons."

A row over, Rob Reggio observed: "You gotta have something to pass along." The dad hoped he was creating a good memory for his sons. That's what his father did for him when he made steamrollers and moon vehicles out of paper-towel rolls and cardboard.

"Give it a whirl, Bud," said Reggio, turning back to one of his boys.

New York optometrist Suzanne Bellante and her crowd took the opportunity to skip out on the last seminar of a professional conference in Seattle before catching a red-eye flight home.

Well, what would you rather do? Go to a class on optic-nerve abnormalities or fly paper airplanes?

Three generations of males from the Schleiger family attended.

"When you have grandkids around, you seem to remember a lot of things you thought you'd forget," said granddad Larry Schleiger, who organized the trip.

Just in case of forgetting, Kenny Epps, 9, brought along a big book with lots of serious paper-airplane designs, a present from his uncle last Christmas.

He made it clear that he was here with his grandpa for all the right reasons.

"Not really to win anything," he said. "Mostly just to have fun. I think flying paper airplanes is a fun thing. (Of course) the chance that you might win something makes it real fun."

By the way, nobody won the bug. But somebody did win the grand prize, a trip of several days to Mexico, with hotel and airfare paid.

Marsha King's phone message number is 206-464-2232. Her e-mail address is mking@seattletimes.com