I let it be known that there was a $10 reward for this rocket, and given the number of kids in the neighborhood around the Purple Park who call me 'Rocket Man,' I figured that would do the trick.
When I was their age, a ten dollar bounty would have had me in the corn searching in the dark for fear that some other kid would beat me to the punch the next morning.
But nope, nobody looked at all until I'd been back to inquire yesterday during the rain and then this evening.
Two kids with their Dad egging them on started a very systematic search, but by sheer dumb luck I beat them to the rocket. And despite the rain, it appears I'll be able to fly it again with no repair required. Given the fate of Otis and Hellboy lately, all I can say is God bless epoxy and heavy paint jobs.
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