Some time in my teens I was at an air show with very relaxed views on where a crowd line should be compared to today. A Vulcan, howling away at full throttle, pulling into a max climb at what seemed just above our heads will never be forgotten, or unfelt. That display was definitely the highlight of the show. Ridiculously agile for the age and size.
No one had car alarms back then or they'd all have surely joined in. :)
As a youngster I was at an airshow "with very relaxed views on where a crowd line should be"* on the aforementioned very-close runway, watching a Harrier work its hovering magic less than a 100 metres away.
The noise was such that I now thoroughly believe the Brown Note might well exist, and back then was stunned to be able to imagine I could discern individual organs resonating inside of me. I've never felt such a level of bass since, not even in my later clubbing years, hugging bass bins in sweaty clubs, listening to dub techno or whatever it was that took my fancy twenty years ago... .
SUCH noise. It becomes so loud it's not even noise any more, just pressure waves and complete sensory discombobulation.
Back in the 70's, or perhaps early 80's when I was a kid, my family were on our usual yearly summer camping holiday on the west coast of Scotland. One day whilst out for a drive around Skye a Vulcan came up from behind us and flew very low over our family car (you could almost count the rivets) and then did a nose up into the sky. It was quite bloody amazing, it was loud and there was a thick black plume of exhaust as it powered up and away from us. Tremendous machines.
No one had car alarms back then or they'd all have surely joined in. :)