Our bicentennial year reminds us of many important events that have made our history exceptional. One story occurred on this day, May 20, 1927, when Charles Augustus Lindbergh flew non-stop from New York to Paris alone in a monoplane he designed and had built by Ryan Aeronautical Co. of San Diego with funds borrowed from eight St. Louis businessmen.
From his youth Lindbergh showed a talent for mechanical experiments. He liked aviation and wanted to learn to fly. He was born Feb, 4, 1902, the year before the Wright Brothers were successful in keeping their plane aloft at Kitty Hawk, N.C., and introducing air flight to the public.
Lindbergh's father was a lawyer and his grandfather a U.S. congressman from Minnesota from 1907-1917. Lindbergh was born in Detroit, raised on a farm in Minnesota, and attended the University of Wisconsin for two years. He left to fly a plane barnstorming at fairs.
Later he enrolled in the Army and trained to become a flyer at Brooks & Kelly Field near San Antonio. He was the best pilot in the class. As a result, Robertson Aircraft Corp., which had a franchise to carry mail from St. Louis to Chicago in 1925, engaged Lindbergh because he was cautious and capable.
In 1919 a New York hotel man offered $25,000 to a flyer who could fly non-stop from New York to Paris. Several flyers had tried but had accidents or were killed. Two flyers who were partially able to reach the goal were Capt. John Alcock and Lt. Arthur Whitten. They had no backing and received no publicity.
In 1926 a French aviation enthusiast named Chevalier Raymond Orteig offered $25,000 to the first pilot who could cross the Atlantic non-stop from New York to Paris. Lindbergh thought he would try. He lacked money so he approached Maj. Albert R. Lambert, who was personally operating Lambert Flying Field in St. Louis as a private enterprise.
"If I win, Maj. Lambert, it will bring fame to St. Louis," Lindbergh said. Lambert agreed and gave Lindbergh $1,000.
Seven of Lambert's friends each contributed $2,000: Earl Thompson; J.B. Wooster; Bill and Frank Robertson; Harry H. Knight; Harold H. Bixby, president of the St. Louis Chamber of Commerce; and E. Lansing Ray, editor of the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Lindbergh had $2,000 of his own, and with the other $15,000 he headed for San Diego to help in constructing the plane he had designed. When it was finished he tried it out and named it the "Spirit of St. Louis." On May 10-11, 1927, he headed for St. Louis, reaching the city in 20 hours and 21 minutes, a transcontinental record.
On May 20, he took off for New York and landed at Roosevelt Field at 7:52 a.m. From New York he headed for Long Island, then Nova Scotia, and soon reached the clouds and mist over the north Atlantic.
Will Rogers, a beloved humorist whose witty column appeared in morning papers throughout the country, said on May 20: "It's no time to be witty. Somewhere over the middle Atlantic a tall, bashful American boy is flying where no one has ever been before..." Lloyds of London, the insurance company that accepted bets on anything, said "The chances of seeing the flyer alive again are only 10 to three."
There were no high-tech instruments to guide the flyer across the ocean, only his determined will, instinct, and faith. He was sustained with five sandwiches, two canteens of water, and, in the extra tank he had added, 300 gallons of gasoline. The extra tank crowded him in the plane, but gasoline was more important than being able to move about. There was no moon and the night was very black and foggy.
When dawn brightened the sky, the foam on the white caps gave him the wind direction. Finally he sighted the coast of Ireland. The wires clicked the message back to the United States, "Lindbergh has reached Ireland." He flew to England, crossed southern England, then the channel, and on towards Paris.
He left New York May 20, at 7:52 a.m., and set the plane down on Le Bourget field near Paris May 21, at 10:21 p.m. (4:21 p.m. Cape Girardeau time). The flight took 33 hours. A crowd of 100,000 were on hand to greet him in Paris. They were wild with joy.
Lindbergh's flight thrilled the world. It was something good and wonderful after years of war. Lindbergh was the hero of the day, and for as long as he lived would be a hero in the minds of people throughout the world. There were parades, banquets, and festivities of all kinds to honor him. Gifts poured in from all over the world. He gave all but one or two to St. Louis, where they may be viewed in the Lindbergh Museum of the Jefferson Memorial Building at Forest Park.
President Calvin Coolidge sent the S.S. Memphis to bring Lindbergh and his plane home. The plane is now in the Smithsonian at Washington, D.C. It is very small compared to the big planes that fly the oceans today.
In 1927 Lindbergh wrote a book about his trip titled "We." It answered all the questions the public wanted to know about the plane. He traveled the country encouraging aviation, and on behalf of the Guggenheim Fund to promote aeronautics. He encouraged the Guggenheim family to back Professor Robert H. Goddard's experiments, which later led to the development of missiles, satellites, and space travel. He was a remarkable man.
Coolidge presented Lindbergh with the Congressional Medal of Honor upon his return from Paris and the first Distinguished Flying Cross.
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