#49: Rocky Mountain-Bound (Part 1)

Ball Moves West, and So Do I

The first time I saw Colorado’s mountains from a perspective other than I-70 was in 1993, when I was asked to accompany Ball Corporation bigwigs on the company jet from Muncie to Broomfield.

This was my first work trip to Colorado. I had driven through Denver on a couple of personal cross-country moves, but my little two-seater Honda CRX had barely made it up the mountain passes, and the struggle didn’t give me time to sightsee.

At the time of the Ball trip, I had only been with the company for two years. Flying on the jet was a rare privilege even for employees several levels above my title of supervisor. I don’t recall why I was asked to go. A seat probably opened up last minute, and someone was kind to me.

After Ball’s little jet landed in Colorado and began to taxi to its hanger at Rocky Mountain Metropolitan Airport, I peered out my window, wh…