A few years back when I was living in southern Louisiana, one came roaring overhead at a relatively low altitude. It was awesome, and one could only imagine what a flight of a multitude of them must have been like for those on the ground.
Some years ago I took my Dad to our local airport for the annual air show.
They were giving rides on a B-24 and charging to walk thru a B-17. I was going to pay for both of us to walk thru the B-17, but right about that time, a storms started out rolling in from the West.
They told everyone “Sorry, but we gotta leave.” We were very disappointed.
Dad was in the Pacific during the War, and probably didn’t see too many B-17s.
When the TV series “12 o’Clock High” debuted back in the ‘60s I fell in love with the B-17. I was totally fascinated by it, it was bristling with .50 cal machine guns and gun turrets with men inside shooting at the bad guy Germans.
I even read Martin Caiden’s book “The B-17: The Flying Fort” and was totally captivated by it. My favorite airplane to this day.