Within days of starting work at the Monitor in May 1971, my phone rang just before dinner. A neighbor down on Hethlon Road called to tell me that a helicopter had landed on Interstate 93 north and that soldiers in full combat gear were spread out along the embankment just below her house. I had long advocated a fence to secure Canterbury's tranquility. But armed rebellion, never! But I digress.

My first thought was that the cocktail hour had started early. Perhaps too early. But Hethlon Road is only minutes away. I had to check it out.

Sure enough, there they were: soldiers sprawled out resting against trees - and armed. Turns out, the National Guard was on a training mission to the White Mountains when the chopper developed engine problems and set down on the highway.

Fortunately, no one was hurt, and they were just waiting for a sky crane (one enormous chopper with two rotors) to haul the fallen bird in for repair.

I was there when the sky crane arrived and picked up the fallen craft. It lifted ever so slowly. As it left the ground, I got under both of them and started shooting straight up at the departing choppers. This was not a good idea. First, it probably wasn't safe. Second, I found myself in a sandstorm of unbelievable proportions. In fact, the sand blasted my favorite lens into a marvel of soft focus.

The photographs ran on the front page and resulted in my first raise at the Monitor from editor Tom Gerber.

Ken Williams