returning on the _Memphis_, received his customary fifteen guns from
the Navy yard. The President’s salute of 21 guns was exchanged. Firing
from the cruisers’ battery and from the shore stations lent a fine
rhythmic punctuation to the constantly increasing noise from other
quarters.
Just before noon the _Memphis_ came alongside the Navy Yard dock and
a gangplank was hoisted to her rail. On the shore were collected a
notable group of cabinet officers and high officials. There were the
Secretary of the Navy, Curtis D. Wilbur; the Secretary of War, Dwight
F. Davis; Postmaster General Harry S. New; and former Secretary of
State, Charles Evans Hughes. There were Admiral Edward W. Eberle, Chief
of Naval Operations; Major General Mason W. Patrick and Rear Admiral
William A. Moffett, heads of the Army and Navy air forces. There was
Commander Richard E. Byrd who flew to the North Pole, and who later
followed Lindbergh’s trail to France.
When the gangplank was in place Admiral Burrage came down it and a
moment later returned with a lady on his arm. This lady was Mrs.
Evangeline Lindbergh, the young pilot’s mother.
Instantly a new burst of cheering went up; but many wept--they knew not
just why.
For a few minutes mother and son disappeared into a cabin aboard the
_Memphis_. It was a nice touch; something more than the brass bands
and cheering. And it somehow symbolized a great deal of what was being
felt and said that hot morning in our country’s great capital.
Next came brief and a somewhat informal greeting by the dignitaries. In
their glistening high silk hats they surrounded Lindbergh and for a bit
shut him off from the pushing perspiring crowd still held at bay ashore
by the bayonets of the marines.
Suddenly the crowd could hold its patience no longer. With one frantic
push it broke through the ranks of “Devil Dogs” and swarmed down upon
the moored vessel. Trouble was averted by the simple expedient of
getting Lindbergh quickly into one of the waiting cars and starting for
the Navy Yard gate.
The parade escort had been lined up some hours ahead of time. Now it
got under way toward the center of the city, leading the automobiles
that carried the official party. Clattering hoofs of cavalrymen, blare
of bands and a rolling cheer along the ranks of waiting thousands
marked the progress of the young American flier who had so gloriously
come home.
Here for the first time Lindbergh saw the spirit in which his people
were to greet him. They were curious, yes; crowds always are on such
occasions. And they were gay with their handclapping and flag-waving,
shouting and confetti throwing. But there was a note of enthusiasm
everywhere that transcended just a chorus of holiday seekers witnessing
a new form of circus. There was something deeper and finer in the way
people voiced their acclaim. Many of them wiped their eyes while they
laughed; many stood with expressionless faces, their looks glued upon
the face of the lad who had achieved so great a thing and yet seemed to
take it all so calmly.
When the parade reached the natural amphitheatre of the Washington
Monument the hillsides were jammed with a great gathering of men, women
and children. On the high stand that had been erected, the President
of the United States and Mrs. Coolidge waited to receive the man who
but three weeks and a day before had been a comparatively unknown
adventurer hopping off for Paris by air.
Ranged about the President were the ambassadors of many foreign
countries, members of the diplomatic corps with their wives and
daughters, and nearly all the high officials of the government.
When Lindbergh mounted the stand the President came forward and grasped
his hand. Those closest to Mr. Coolidge say that rarely has he shown
the unrestrained cordiality he put into that simple greeting.
The President now moved to the front of the stand and waited for the
applause to be stilled. Presently, when the multitude again was quiet,
he began slowly to speak:
“My Fellow-Countrymen:
“It was in America that the modern art of flying of heavier-than-air
machines was first developed. As the experiments became successful,
the airplane was devoted to practical purposes. It has been adapted
to commerce in the transportation of passengers and mail and used for
national defense by our land and sea forces.
“Beginning with a limited flying radius, its length has been gradually
extended. We have made many flying records. Our Army fliers have
circumnavigated the globe. One of our Navy men started from California
and flew far enough to have reached Hawaii, but being off his course,
landed in the water. Another officer of the Navy has flown to the North
Pole. Our own country has been traversed from shore to shore in a
single flight.
“It had been apparent for some time that the next great feat in the
air would be a continuous flight from the mainland of America to the
mainland of Europe. Two courageous Frenchmen made the reverse attempt
and passed to a fate that is as yet unknown.
“Others were speeding their preparations to make the trial, but it
remained for an unknown youth to attempt the elements and win. It is
the same story of valor and victory by a son of the people that shines
through every page of American history.
“Twenty-five years ago there was born in Detroit, Michigan, a boy
representing the best traditions of this country, of a stock known for
its deeds of adventure and exploration.
“His father, moved with a desire for public service, was a member
of Congress for several years. His mother, who dowered her son with
her own modesty and charm, is with us today. Engaged in the vital
profession of school-teaching, she has permitted neither money nor fame
to interfere with her fidelity to her duties.
“Too young to have enlisted in the World War, her son became a student
at one of the big State universities. His interest in aviation led him
to an Army aviation school, and in 1925 he was graduated as an airplane
pilot. In November, 1926, he had reached the rank of Captain in the
Officers’ Reserve Corps.
[Illustration: © _Wide World Photos_
NEW YORK CITY--THE PARADE PASSING THROUGH CENTRAL PARK WHERE OVER
400,000 PEOPLE WERE GATHERED. A SOLID BANK OF HUMANITY FLANKED OUR
PASSAGE]
[Illustration: © _Wide World Photos_
NEW YORK CITY--PARADE IN CENTRAL PARK AS SEEN FROM A NEARBY SKYSCRAPER]
“Making his home in St. Louis, he had joined the 110th Observation
Squadron of the Missouri National Guard. Some of his qualities noted by
the Army officers who examined him for promotion, as shown by reports
in the files of the Militia Bureau of the War Department, are as
follows:
“‘Intelligent,’ ‘industrious,’ ‘energetic,’ ‘dependable,’ ‘purposeful,’
‘alert,’ ‘quick of reaction,’ ‘serious,’ ‘deliberate,’ ‘stable,’
‘efficient,’ ‘frank,’ ‘modest,’ ‘congenial’ ‘a man of good moral habits
and regular in all his business transactions.’
“One of the officers expressed his belief that the young man ‘would
successfully complete everything he undertakes.’ This reads like a
prophecy.
“Later he became connected with the United States Mail Service, where
he exhibited marked ability, and from which he is now on leave of
absence.
“On a morning just three weeks ago yesterday this wholesome, earnest,
fearless, courageous product of America rose into the air from Long
Island in a monoplane christened ‘The Spirit of St. Louis’ in honor of
his home and that of his supporters.
“It was no haphazard adventure. After months of most careful
preparation, supported by a valiant character, driven by an
unconquerable will and inspired by the imagination and the spirit
of his Viking ancestors, this reserve officer set wing across the
dangerous stretches of the North Atlantic.
“He was alone. His destination was Paris.
“Thirty-three hours and thirty minutes later, in the evening of the
second day, he landed at his destination on the French flying field
at Le Bourget. He had traveled over 3,600 miles, and established a
new and remarkable record. The execution of his project was a perfect
exhibition of art.
“This country will always remember the way in which he was received by
the people of France, by their President and by their Government. It
was the more remarkable because they were mourning the disappearance
of their intrepid countrymen, who had tried to span the Atlantic on a
western flight.
“Our messenger of peace and good-will had broken down another barrier
of time and space and brought two great peoples into closer communion.
In less than a day and a half he had crossed the ocean over which
Columbus had traveled for sixty-nine days and the Pilgrim Fathers for
sixty-six days on their way to the New World.
“But, above all, in showering applause and honors upon this genial,
modest American youth, with the naturalness, the simplicity and the
poise of true greatness, France had the opportunity to show clearly her
good-will for America and our people.
“With like acclaim and evidences of cordial friendship our Ambassador
without portfolio was received by the rulers, the Governments and
the peoples of England and Belgium. From other nations came hearty
messages of admiration for him and for his country. For these manifold
evidences of friendship we are profoundly grateful.
“The absence of self-acclaim, the refusal to become commercialized,
which has marked the conduct of this sincere and genuine exemplar of
fine and noble virtues, has endeared him to every one. He has returned
unspoiled.
“Particularly has it been delightful to have him refer to his airplane
as somehow possessing a personality and being equally entitled to
credit with himself, for we are proud that in every particular this
silent partner represented American genius and industry. I am told that
more than 100 separate companies furnished materials, parts or service
in its construction.
“And now, my fellow-citizens, this young man has returned. He is here.
He has brought his unsullied fame home. It is our great privilege to
welcome back to his native land, on behalf of his own people, who
have a deep affection for him and have been thrilled by his splendid
achievement, a Colonel of the United States Officers’ Reserve Corps,
an illustrious citizen of our Republic, a conqueror of the air and
strength for the ties which bind us to our sister nations across the
sea.
“And, as President of the United States, I bestow the Distinguished
Flying Cross, as a symbol of appreciation for what he is and what he
has done, upon Colonel Charles A. Lindbergh.”
Upon completing this address the President then conferred upon
Lindbergh the Distinguished Flying Cross.
A new burst of cheering went up as the medal was being pinned on
by the President. It was at this point in the proceedings that the
Secretary of the Navy, ordinarily most placid of men, is alleged to
have waved his arm in the air like a college cheer leader and hurrahed
as loudly as any. When quiet came again Lindbergh rose and replied to
the President. What he said was brief. But had he uttered a hundred
times as many words, he could scarcely have conveyed a more important
message to those about him.
He said: “On the evening of May 21, I arrived at Le Bourget, France.
I was in Paris for one week, in Belgium for a day and was in London
and in England for several days. Everywhere I went, at every meeting I
attended, I was requested to bring a message home to you. Always the
message was the same.
“‘You have seen,’ the message was, ‘the affection of the people of
France for the people of America demonstrated to you. When you return
to America take back that message to the people of the United States
from the people of France and of Europe.’
“I thank you.”
This is no place to dwell upon the minutiæ of that great day. The
picture must be sketched in with bold strokes and stippled background.
But it is impossible to pass this one short speech of Lindbergh’s and
not cajole the reader to gather something of its significance. In a
sentence it tells the story of the flight; it gives what the speaker
considered his immediate and outstanding achievement; and it phrases
that achievement in words so touching and so eloquent that France and
America, half-estranged through wretched debt, rang with them for days.
The final touch of the miracle was that this speech was extemporaneous.
Just as when Lincoln finished his Gettysburg address his listeners
sat stunned at the very brevity of it, so was there a curious silence
immediately following Lindbergh’s utterance. Then came long applause.
Hats were not thrown in the air. But men and women clapped until
their palms were numb. Again many wept. A radio announcer whose
stock-in-trade was routine emotional appeal, broke down and sobbed.
More and more people were beginning to realize that something was
happening far greater than just the celebration of a mechanical triumph
over the ocean separating Europe from America.
The ceremony ended as simply and quickly as it had begun. The
President’s own car whisked Lindbergh away to the temporary White
House in Dupont Circle. A curious and eager crowd lingered there
behind police lines throughout the afternoon. From time to time their
demanding cheers could be silenced only by Lindbergh’s smiling presence
at the door or balcony.
President and Mrs. Coolidge entertained members of the Cabinet and
their wives that night. Lindbergh sat on Mrs. Coolidge’s right. He
wore conventional evening dress and was distinguished by the ease and
simplicity with which he met both sallies and inquiries of the imposing
guests.
It is one of the cruelties of social lionization that we search for
the peculiarities of our specimen. In Lindbergh’s case his peculiarity
lay in the fact that neither by word, nor look, nor deed was he in any
way grotesque. His eyes were clear, his smile quick; like a practised
diplomat he eluded entangling discussion; and he had a ready reply for
every intelligent inquiry put to him within his range of knowledge or
experience.
It is at risk of dampening the ardor of our narrative that we
repeatedly point to this trait of simplicity that lies in Lindbergh. We
do so because it was from close within the nucleus of this trait that
there sprung the incredible emotional reaction towards his personality.
After the President’s dinner Lindbergh attended a meeting of the
National Press Club in the Washington Auditorium. This was his first
public appearance “under roof” in America. Six thousand people risked
imminent heat stroke by crowding into every seat and cranny of the
building.
The program opened with an address on behalf of the Press Club by
Richard V. Oulahan. Because this address illuminated the feelings of
the “Fourth Estate,” proverbially cynical toward notoriety, we give it
here in full:
“In your journalistic flight of the past three weeks,” said Mr.
Oulahan, you must have learned that much may be read between the lines
of what is printed in newspapers. So even a novice in newspaperdom
like yourself would have no trouble in reading between the lines of
this journalistic expression an intimate note of sincere affection.
“We of the press rub elbows with all manner of mankind. We see much of
good but we see much of self-seeking, of sordid motive, as we sit in
the wings watching the world’s procession pass across the stage. If
it is true that through our contacts we are sprinkled with a coating
of the dry dust of cynicism, that dust was blown away in a breath,
as it were, when our professional brethren who greeted you overseas
broadcast the news of your peerless exploit. To Americans it brought a
spontaneous feeling of pride that you were of their nationality.
“The whole world was carried off its feet by an accomplishment so
daring, so masterful in execution, so superb in achievement, by the
picture presented of that onrushing chariot of dauntless youth,
flashing across uncharted heavens straight through the storm’s barrage.
“But if the press, with such an inspiration, performed its mission
well, it found equal inspiration. It performed as fine a mission in
chronicling the subsequent conduct of our young Ambassador of Good
Will. His words and bearing dissipated vapors of misunderstanding. He
personified, to a Europe amazed at the revelation, the real spirit of
America.
“The press should be proud then, if in telling the story of this later
phase in the career of the American boy, it brought to the peoples
of the world a new realization that clean living, clean thinking,
fair play and sportsmanship, modesty of speech and manner, faith in a
mother’s prayers, have a front page news value intriguing imagination
and inviting emulation, and are still potent as fundamentals of
success.”
Postmaster General New then stepped forward and gave Lindbergh the
first special air mail stamp. As he handed it to the flier he said:
“It is as a pilot in the service of the Air Mail that I greet you.
There is no public service devoted to the peace time of the public
whose past and present are attended by the romance that are attached to
the history of the Post Office Department of the United States.
“From the single couriers of the early days, who followed the uncertain
trails through wood and fen on horseback and on foot, the picturesque
riders of the pony express of a later day, who risked their lives at
the hands of savage foes in the wilderness, the drivers who serve amid
the rigors of the frozen North with dog teams and sleds, to those
intrepid pilots who pierce the night with the air mail and of whom you
are a worthy representative, the whole story is set in an atmosphere of
most engaging romance.
“It has no titles to bestow--no medal it can add to those that have
been given in recognition of your splendid achievement. There is one
thing, however, it can do that will everywhere be regarded as most
appropriate. It has issued a stamp designed for special use with the
air mail which bears your name and a representation of the other
member of that very limited partnership in which you made your now
famous journey across seas. It is the first time a stamp has been
issued in honor of a man still living--a distinction which you have
worthily won.
“It is my great pleasure to be privileged to present to you, and to
the mother who gave you to this service, the first two copies of this
issue as the best evidence of the enduring regard of the Post Office
Department of the United States.”
These speeches are quoted because better than almost any other
capturable entity of those days they reflect the wide scope of the
effect Lindbergh’s success had on both governmental and business
routine. Surely it is difficult to conceive of a military victor
shaking so many foundations, no matter what the might of his mailed
fist.
Secretary of State Kellogg next presented Lindbergh with a memorial
volume consisting of a compilation of diplomatic exchanges between the
State Department and the Foreign Offices of the world in connection
with the flight. His words lined in a little more of the bewildering
picture of the world’s admiration enfolding before Lindbergh’s frankly
astonished gaze.
“Colonel Charles A. Lindbergh,” he slowly and ponderously began,
staring hard at the object of his eulogy. “On May 20th and 21st, 1927,
the world was electrified by the news of your non-stop flight from
New York to Paris. It was a marvelous accomplishment requiring the
highest courage, skill and self-reliance. Probably no act of a single
individual in our day has ever aroused such universal enthusiasm
and admiration. Your great deed is a mile-stone marking scientific
advancement.
“You have been congratulated by Kings and Presidents. You have listened
to the plaudits of thousands and thousands in Europe and you know the
tributes which have been justly paid to you by millions more. You do
not now realize the thousands who have expressed their congratulations
in letters and telegrams. I have had printed in this little volume
only the official telegrams which passed through the Department
of State and I take pleasure in presenting to you this volume in
commemoration of your epochal achievement.
“Along the highway of human progress, as we look back over the last
half century we marvel at the progress in science, the arts and
invention. Truly this is a marvelous age and your daring feat will pass
into the pages of history.”
Then came Dr. Charles G. Abbott, Acting Secretary of the Smithsonian
Institute who informed Lindbergh that the Institute had decided to
award him the Langley “Medal of Pioneers.” This honor has in the past
been bestowed upon a small but distinguished group such as Orville
Wright, Glenn H. Curtiss and Gustave Eiffel. Thus was added to the
tribute of press and state the commendation of one of the oldest and
finest scientific bodies in the world.
Followed next a medley of messages from special organizations.
Greetings from cities touched by Lindbergh in his historic flight from
San Diego to Paris were read. St. Louis sent a moving reminder that her
people were “waiting for you now impatiently ... waiting since that
gray morning when you launched out over the clouds and the sea for
Paris.”
There was one from the British Government, something almost without
precedent when it is considered that its recipient was a private
citizen on a private enterprise. The official bearer read:
“I have been desired by the British Government to express to Colonel
Lindbergh on this occasion in behalf of all the people of Great Britain
their warm congratulations on the safe return home after his historic
flight across the Atlantic. The British people regard Colonel Lindbergh
with special admiration and affection not only for his great courage
and resource, but also for his equally great modesty in success and
generosity in giving their due to other aviators who have gone before.”
[Illustration: © _Wide World Photos_
NEW YORK CITY--SPEAKING AT THE CEREMONIES IN CENTRAL PARK. GOVERNOR
SMITH OF NEW YORK BEHIND THE “MIKE”]
[Illustration: © _U. & U._
BROOKLYN, N. Y.--SPEAKING AT THE CEREMONIES IN PROSPECT PARK]
At the end of this bewildering array of orations and gifts the
speaker of the evening was announced. One has only to put oneself in
Lindbergh’s place after reading some of the eloquence listed above to
admire the moral courage it took to face that huge audience and once
more speak with directness and precision of the things nearest his
heart--things often furthest from the burden of the discourse:
“I want to express my appreciation of the reception I’ve met in America
and the welcome I have received here tonight.” It was plain the flier
was going to cover another field than the infinitely delicate one he
had touched earlier in the day. “When I landed at Le Bourget a few
weeks ago, I landed with the expectancy and hope of being able to see
Europe. It was the first time I had ever been abroad. I had seen a
number of interesting things when I flew over Ireland and Southern
England and France. I had only been gone from America two days or a
little less, and I wasn’t in any particular hurry to get back.
“But by the time I had been in France a week, Belgium a day and England
two or three days--by that time I had opened several cables from
America and talked with three Ambassadors and their attachés and found
that it didn’t make much difference whether I wanted to stay or not:
and while I was informed that it was not necessarily an order to come
back home, there was a battleship waiting for me.
“The Ambassador said this wasn’t an order, but advice,” the aviator
added.
“So on June 4 I sailed on the _Memphis_ from Cherbourg and this morning
as I came up the Potomac I wasn’t very sorry that I had listened to it.
“There were several things I saw in Europe that are of interest to
American aviation. All Europe looks on our air mail service with
reverence. There is nothing like it anywhere abroad.