More than I wanted to know

I've been really appreciating this trend of companies sending out their emails like an informal letter from the Boss. I get a weekly email from Lee at the comic book shop down the street, an occasional one from Rod at the plastic gears company, and once in a while, a message from Charles, the personality at Cook's Illustrated.

Charles' newsletter is filled with great Americana tidbits about getting maple syrup from the trees, hunting for quail, etc. I think he went a little too far this last newsletter, though. See if you could spot the point at which I went "whaaaa?":

"After more than two hours of hiking, we made it to the top--3,300 feet--and looked down the "oven," a steep bowl that leads down into Kent Hollow. And, although this sounds like a National Geographic special, a large, black bald eagle flew right by us.

We then circled around the summit, which was thick with small hemlocks, looking for the remains of a plane crash from the 1980s. (We didn't find it.) That reminded Marty of another plane crash back in the 1960s. Carl Hess (he is the guy standing up in Norman Rockwell's famous painting Town Meeting) was pumping gas and looked up to see a small 1943 two-seater hit turbulence. A wing was sheared off (it was found four miles away up in the mountains next to Stubby's camp), a passenger was thrown from the plane, and then it nose-dived into the cornfield behind the gas station.

Oakie gave us the panoramic tour of our valley from the summit. Looking east, we could see Mother Myrick Mountain; Kate, Mears, and Corbett Hollows..."

OK, beautiful American scenery is fine. Reminiscing about people falling from planes? I'm hearing those banjos from Deliverance.