In the early months of the real estate mobbing, a time when the harassers made grandiose statements intended to befuddle and bewitch, claims about winged flying machines were made during the nighttime harassment the mobbers quickly applied in an effort to make my home unlivable:
We might have a drone, one of the mobbers suggested.
Get off the phone! cried another, in mock amazement.
This was before every Tom, Dick and Harry got one for Christmas the year before last, before the Federal Aviation Agency (FAA) promulgated regulations on registering unmanned aircraft of a certain weight and class (Unmanned Aircraft Systems, https://www.faa.gov/uas/), and before cases like one in the courtroom of Seattle Municipal Court Judge Willie Gregory, in which the operator of an out-of-control drone that knocked out a woman at Seattle’s Gay Pride Parade was sentenced to 30 days’ jail time. This was before drones became reality in the American mind, before Tattoo’s excited cries of “The plane!” approaching Fantasy Island (an American television series, 1977-1984, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fantasy_Island) morphed into the calls of exercised home owners about “A drone!” at the bedroom window.