Pushkin

As the night draws in and the fire blazes on the hearth, we warn the children by telling

them stories.

The three little pigs warns them always to use solid construction materials.

My stories are for the education of the grownups and my stories are all true.

I'm Tim Harford, gather close and listen to my cautionary tale.

It was just before lunchtime on the 14th of October 1929, when Christopher Birdwood Thompson

stood up from his desk, dommed his stiff, homberg hat, adding a little more to his imposing

height of 6 feet 5 inches and walked briskly up the stairs to the roof terrace.

Lord Thompson worked on Whitehall, the street at the heart of the British government.

To his left, downing street, the official residence of the Prime Minister.

To his right, the houses of Parliament.

But he wasn't looking left or right.

Like everyone else in London that day, he was looking straight up.

Cosing low over Whitehall was the largest aircraft the world had ever seen.

It was a long, slim silver teardrop, an airship.

It was enormous.

735 feet long, the size of a large Manhattan skyscraper lying on its side, hovering

right over their heads.

It was a glimpse, Lord Thompson liked to say, of the future.

The vast airship had slowed to a leisurely 40 miles an hour to allow the crowd a better

view.

...