I Did It For The Child

On a Western Airlines flight to San Francisco, fried chicken tycoon Col. Harland Sanders, 89, had made himself agreeable to staff and fellow passengers, then dropped his chin to his narrow black tie and closed his eyes. Somewhere in the back of the plane a child had been shrieking for some time. One stewardess told another helplessly, "I've tried candy, books and games, but nothing seems to make any difference."

"I've got to speak to that child," said the colonel. He rose to his feet and, with the aid of his cane, made his way back. The staff watched and shrugged, as if to say, "What can he do?"

When the colonel came back, not long afterward, his charm had produced a minor miracle. There was only the sound of chatter, newspapers and china. The stewardess came up to him and said, "Thank you for helping us, Colonel."

"I didn't do it for you," he replied. "I did it for the child."

And he closed his eyes again and settled down.