One Saturday afternoon while we were living at the Watts place someone hollered, "Yonder comes a Zeplin'!", and pointed upward toward the southwest. Moving very slowly eastward, at an altitude slightly above the trees, was a huge airship.
It was called a Zeppelin after its German inventor, and it was much larger and longer than present day blimps.
The Zeppelin was following the L&N railroad, probably using it as a navigational aid, and moving toward Jacksonville. It was the first and only Zeppelin that I ever saw, and I still recall the feeling that I experienced while watching it. There was something darkly mysterious about an object with such shape moving so slowly through the air.
Of course, none of us understood the method by which it was propelled. It seemed to move simply because it was a Zeplin'.
To understand why we stared in wonder at such a sight, it is only necessary to realize that at the time even airplanes were seen only rarely by people living in small towns or rural areas. Whenever one was sighted, the viewer would follow its flight until it vanished as a tiny speck in the sky.
The aircraft was probably a Navy airship on a training flight. We did not know about Navy airships, but had heard just enough about the Zeppelin to be intrigued by it.