May 20, 1927

On a cold wet morning, May 20, 1927 a 25 yr.old kid climbed aboard an airplane at Roosevelt airfield on Long Island and took off for Paris.  There was a $25000 prize for the first person to do it.  Two well-financed teams had already come to tragic watery catastrophes in the Atlantic already that year.  Charles Lindbergh had 4 sandwiches, 2 canteens of water, and 451 gallons of gasoline aboard the Spirit of St. Louis, named in honor of his backers. No radio, no parachute to conserve weight.

When we say air field, that’s what it was and Roosevelt airfield was so muddy that Lindbergh barely cleared the telephone lines at the end of the field.  Though 500 well-wishers had seen him off, major newpapers scoffed at his effort and homemade plane. For the next 33 ½ hours, Lindbergh bounced through storms and over icebergs.  He flew into fog for awhile, bitter cold and his wings iced badly.  Finally he spotted fishing boats.  Was he close to land?  Flying low, about 200 feet, he cut the engine and yelled, “Which way to Ireland?”  The fishermen pointed to the east.  He battled fatigue, holding his eyes open with his fingers.  From Ireland he crossed England and found Cherbourg and the Seine River.  Finally the lights of Paris came into view about 10 pm.  There were no lights at the airfield and Lindbergh said this made him extremely cautious, overshooting the field by 3 miles before he turned around and headed back.  But you see, the news of the crazy American kid heading for Paris had traveled to the city by that time and 100,000 motorists had cranked their cars and lined both sides of the runway with their lights on, cheering wildly as he touched down. He had done what no one else had done—solo flight, New York to Paris. 

The French saw in Lindbergh their heroic American. He had quiet integrity and courage, and an indifference to honor they loved in the Yanks.  It seemed everybody in America saw themselves in him, an adventurer, an achiever, full of hope.  He was given the largest ticker tape parade in New York in history.  President Coolidge presented him with the Congressional Medal of Honor.

But the real effect of Lindbergh’s flight was more mundane.  Up until then aviation was thought to be the realm of dare-devils and barnstormers.  It was nothing for a prudent person to engage in.  But, heck, if some kid could climb into a plane and fly to Paris, maybe this aviation wasn’t so nutty after all.  Commercial aviation blossomed.  The Military and the Postal Service began to pursue flying full tilt.  Going into the sky quickly became accepted.  And France had finally passed the torch.  Ever since the Reformation, France had been the country of new technology, and in the 19^th century, even without stable government, French engineers and scientists had stunned the world with their discoveries, buildings and feats.  But with Lindbergh, it was now America’s turn.