A foggy night at the airport

The solitary air traffic contoller at the small municipal airport was expecting a quiet night. A good night to catch up on some paperwork and finish that book he had started. It was just after midnight when his trained ear heard the sound. An aircraft engine. "Strange" he thought, "that sounds like and old radial engine". "That can't be." He walked to the door, opened it, and listened quietly for what he thought would be a car on the nearby highway. It was an aircraft and it was a radial engine. "Why isn't he turning on the runway lights with his radio transmitter?", thought the controller. "Damn!", he said, "I must be losing it. His radio is broken. That's why he is buzzing the field and not turning on the lights himself."
He ran back inside and turned on the runway lights. A few minutes later, the plane landed safely and he found himself looking down at an antique. "What in the world....?". He hurried down the circular stairs to the tarmac in time to see the pilot exit from a 1932 Beechcraft Staggerwing. A plane that was almost 75 years old sat on the tarmac in front of him looking like it just left the showroom floor.
The pilot appeared confused. "Where am I?" he asked. "King City" said the controller. The confused looking pilot asked, "What time is it?". "Just after midnight, Where are you coming from?" inquired the controller.
"I just left Omaha when the fog rolled in. I couldn't climb over it and I couldn't go around it. I just flew through until I saw your beacon."
The controller knew he was the butt of a practical joke. "Good one" he said, "Omaha is over a thousand miles west of here".
The pilot looked dumb-struck. "That's not possible. I've only been flying for two hours." "I had just listened to Al Jolson on the radio and I took off before sunset."
"Al Jolson?" "What year are you living in?" asked the controller with a trace of sarcasm.
"1932, of course" said the pilot.
"It's 2006, wise guy" said the controller.
"You're crazy!" said the pilot "I'm calling the cops!" He turned and ran into the fog.
"He'll be back" thought the controller. No-one would leave an expensive aircraft like this for long.
He trudged back up the circular staircase and, after turning off the runway lights, finished his reports.
He was more than a little concerned when his relief came in in the morning and asked why a Staggerwing was parked downstairs. He asked where the pilot was.
"He'll be back", muttered the controller, "Any minute now", knowing that no-one would leave an expensive aircraft like this for long.
"He'll be back".