The special chemistry of Boeing was one part the men and their originality of thought; one part a kind of corporate innocence that more than once left them outwitted by competitors with sharper elbows and lobbying skills in Washington, D.C.; and one part a stubborn adhesion to a place. Boeing Field resonated with the thunder of their own perfected science, the machines that increasingly became familiar at every airport around the world. This seemed like fulfillment enough: no need to swagger and strut, they seemed to feel; the jets are truly sexy and we own them.
It couldn’t last.