Devil Doc
When Death smiles, Corpsmen smile back
It was on this day in 1927 that Charles Lindbergh landed his plane in Paris, completing the first solo, nonstop transatlantic flight. He was an airmail pilot, flying between St. Louis and Chicago. It was an incredibly dangerous job at the time. Of the first 40 pilots hired, 31 died in crashes. But in his first four years on the job, Lindbergh flew 7,189 flights, logging almost 2,000 hours in the air, without a single incident.
He crossed the Atlantic in a single-engine plane with a large gas tank, which he called the Spirit of St. Louis. He didn't take a radio, a parachute, or any navigational equipment. He tore unnecessary pages from his flight journal, trimmed the margins from his maps, and only brought five sandwiches for food. The gasoline tank was so heavy that he had trouble getting the plane into the air, and only cleared the telephone lines by 20 feet.
From the take-off in New York, he flew north over Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts. He reached Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, flew in over the city of St. John's, and then turned toward Ireland. For the next 15 hours, no one would know if he were alive or dead. The humorist Will Rogers wrote in his column, "No attempt at jokes today. A ... slim, tall, bashful, smiling American boy is somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, where no lone human being has ever ventured before. ... If he is lost it will be the most universally regretted loss we ever had."
After reaching the halfway point of his journey, Lindbergh was exhausted and disoriented. In order to keep himself awake, he flew close enough to the water to feel the spray on his face. He began to hallucinate, and even saw a coastline before his calculations said that he should. When he flew toward it, the coastline vanished.
After more than 24 hours, Lindbergh spotted fishing boats on the water. He reached Ireland a few hours later and turned south toward Paris.
Lindbergh touched down at 10:24 p.m. on this day in 1927, 33 1/2 hours after he'd taken off. About 150,000 people mobbed the landing strip in Paris, shouting, "Vive Lindbergh!" And overnight, he became one of the most famous men in the world.
Doc.
He crossed the Atlantic in a single-engine plane with a large gas tank, which he called the Spirit of St. Louis. He didn't take a radio, a parachute, or any navigational equipment. He tore unnecessary pages from his flight journal, trimmed the margins from his maps, and only brought five sandwiches for food. The gasoline tank was so heavy that he had trouble getting the plane into the air, and only cleared the telephone lines by 20 feet.
From the take-off in New York, he flew north over Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts. He reached Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, flew in over the city of St. John's, and then turned toward Ireland. For the next 15 hours, no one would know if he were alive or dead. The humorist Will Rogers wrote in his column, "No attempt at jokes today. A ... slim, tall, bashful, smiling American boy is somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, where no lone human being has ever ventured before. ... If he is lost it will be the most universally regretted loss we ever had."
After reaching the halfway point of his journey, Lindbergh was exhausted and disoriented. In order to keep himself awake, he flew close enough to the water to feel the spray on his face. He began to hallucinate, and even saw a coastline before his calculations said that he should. When he flew toward it, the coastline vanished.
After more than 24 hours, Lindbergh spotted fishing boats on the water. He reached Ireland a few hours later and turned south toward Paris.
Lindbergh touched down at 10:24 p.m. on this day in 1927, 33 1/2 hours after he'd taken off. About 150,000 people mobbed the landing strip in Paris, shouting, "Vive Lindbergh!" And overnight, he became one of the most famous men in the world.
Doc.
