Mona Kerby & Eileen McKeating (4 page)

Amelia agreed to Mrs. Guest's rules. Amelia knew that this flight would open doors for her later, both in writing and in flying. Besides, Amelia explained, she wanted to do it for the fun of it.

For its time, the plane, named the
Friendship,
was gigantic. With huge tanks of gas, the 3-engine plane weighed more than 5 tons. In some places, the wings were 26 inches thick, with a total wing span of 72 feet. (The wings were about as long as 5 of today's midsize cars.) So that it could land on water, the landing wheels were replaced with huge boat-shaped parts called pontoons. And just in case the plane went down, it was painted bright orange, making it easy to spot.

The crew did their work in secret. They didn't want another woman pilot to hear of their plans and beat them. And if their flight failed, they didn't want the whole world to know about it.

Not even Amelia's family knew about the planned flight. In case she died, Amelia wrote a will and left letters for her parents. To her father she wrote, “Hooray for the last grand adventure! I wish I had won, but it was worthwhile anyway.” She wrote her mother, “My life has really been very happy and I don't mind contemplating its end in the midst of it.”

Finally, after months of work, everything was ready. Amelia carried a toothbrush, a comb, a handkerchief, and a tube of cold cream. She didn't even bring a change of underwear. She wore her old favorite flying clothes, including her leather jacket. She borrowed a heavy fur-lined jumpsuit.

On the morning of June 4, 1928, Amelia and her crew huddled in the
Friendship.
The engines roared to full power, but the plane refused to fly. They pitched out 6 of the 5-gallon cans of gasoline, leaving themselves only 2 cans. Again they tried. No luck. Another pilot, Louis Gower, had hoped to go with them. Without a word, he got his bag and jumped off the plane.

For the third time that morning, the engines roared. The plane struggled. Then slowly but surely, it flew. They were off. Headlines splashed across the Boston newspapers:
Girl Pilot Dares the Atlantic.
The secret was out. The world was watching Amelia.

Their plan was to stop briefly at Trepassey, Newfoundland, for more fuel. When they arrived, the weather was terrible. Fog covered the island. A cold Arctic wind blew in. The
Friendship
was trapped.

They stayed two weeks. For fun, Amelia and Slim played cards. The pilot got drunk. G.P. Putnam sent a telegram to Amelia: “Suggest you turn in and have your laundering done.” Amelia replied: “Thanks fatherly telegram. No washing necessary. Socks underwear worn out. Shirt lost to Slim at Rummy. Cheerio. AE.”

At last the weather changed. By 6:30 on the morning of June 17, Amelia and her crew were in the plane, ready to leave. The waters were rough. Once again, the plane refused to fly. To make it lighter, they threw out everything they could spare—the movie camera, a thermos of cocoa for Amelia, extra gas, life jackets. Three times they tried. At 11:40 A.M., the plane shook violently and rose from the sea. They were in the air.

The Friendship headed east toward the British Isles. Fog, snowstorms, rainstorms, and thick rolling clouds met them head on. Each time rain hit the engines, they sputtered and coughed. Bill did most of the flying. Amelia never flew. Instead, she remained in the back, kneeling beisde a window and keeping notes on their flight.

At 8 o'clock that evening, the
Friendship
lost all radio contact. Bill held the plane on course by watching the control panel and by looking at the stars. It was freezing cold. The engines roared in their ears. The black of night surrounded them. They were all alone.

Day dawned and still the
Friendship
flew. And then an engine stalled. The gas tanks were almost empty. At 8:50 A.M., Bill nosed the plane down to get a better look.

A ship! Where were they?

Bill tried the radio. It didn't work. Slim wrote a note, which Amelia tied to an orange. Leaning out the cargo door, she tried to bomb the boat with the orange. It plopped in the sea. Should they land beside the ship or should they continue on their course?

The
Friendship
flew on. Slim bit into a sandwich.

And then he saw something. He pointed it out to Bill. What happened next is best described by Amelia. “I think Sam yelled. I know the sandwich went flying out the window. It was land!”

It was an unusual welcome. Bill, Slim, and Amelia sat on the plane and waited. No one came. For a straight 20 hours and 40 minutes, they had flown 2,000 miles over the Atlantic Ocean. In all that time, Amelia had eaten 3 oranges and a handful of malted-milk candy balls. None of them had slept much. Now they sat on the plane while it rocked gently in the water. Rain pattered on the metal roof. Amelia yelled and waved at the fishermen. The fishermen waved back and went on with their work.

The silence did not last long. In a few hours, they went ashore and learned that they had landed at Burry Port, Wales. The next morning, they flew on to Southampton, England. Here they met Mrs. Guest, the woman who had made their trip possible. And suddenly, everyone wanted to meet Amelia.

Telegrams, messages, gifts, and invitations arrived from all over the world. U.S. president Calvin Coolidge praised Amelia's courage. The British government asked Amelia to speak. The Prince of Wales asked her to dance. Back home, 32 cities asked her to visit.

Newspapers called her “Lady Lindy.” She looked like Charles Lindbergh, they reported. Just like him, with her quiet, modest, and sincere way, Amelia captured the hearts of the people. She tried to explain that she hadn't done anything special. She praised the skills of Bill Stulz, the pilot. She had just gone along for the ride, she added.

Amelia felt she didn't deserve this attention. She made a decision. “The next time I fly anywhere,” she said, “I shall do it alone.”

Amelia stayed ten days in England and sailed home. In a New York City parade, people lined the streets, throwing confetti and cheering for Amelia. From the very beginning, G.P. Putnam managed everything. Amelia was grateful for his help. The
Friendship
crew visited New York, Chicago, and Medford, Massachusetts, Amelia's hometown at the time. After that, Amelia stayed at G.P.'s mansion and wrote her first book,
20 Hours and 40 Minutes.

As soon as she finished, Amelia was off again. She decided to fly across the country, making stops along the way. Since there weren't many airports, Amelia landed along highways, and in fields. Once in Pecos, Texas, she landed right in the middle of Main Street. When she returned to New York, Amelia learned that she had set a record. She became the first woman to make a solo (by herself) round-trip flight across the United States.

G.P. set up speaking engagements for Amelia all over the country. She flew alone, speaking in the morning and flying to the next town in the afternoon. Rather than wear her leather jacket and helmet, Amelia dressed in skirts and hats. By looking like a “lady,” Amelia wanted to show that flying wasn't just for men. Someday, she said, “Women will be free to live their lives as men are free.”

Amelia made those words come true for herself. In the next few years, she continued to achieve. In August, 1929, she finished third in the first Women's Air Derby, a race from California to Ohio. She and 98 women pilots formed a club called “The Ninety-Nines.” As an editor for the magazine
Cosmopolitan,
Amelia wrote articles on topics such as safety in flying, letting a daughter fly, and pilot training. On July 6, 1930, Amelia set a speed record by flying 181 m.p.h. She even flew an autogiro, one of the first helicopters, across the country. And Amelia wrote her second book,
The Fun of It.

Still, these achievements were simple compared to what she did on February 7, 1931. On that day, 33-year-old Amelia did something that truly scared her. She married.

G.P. Putnam proposed 6 times. The last time, both of them were standing beside her plane. He asked; she patted his arm, nodded, and then crawled in her plane and took off.

On her wedding day, Amelia wore an old brown suit. She gave G.P. a letter, asking him to “let me go in a year if we find no happiness together.” Amelia insisted on keeping her last name. They didn't take a honeymoon.

Without a word, G.P. accepted Amelia's strange behavior. This must have been hard, because he was not a quiet, easygoing man. Twelve years older than Amelia, G.P. had already been married two times. He was attractive, talkative, and bossy. As one of the owners of a worldwide publishing company, G.P. was used to getting his way. He had money and power.

But he was not famous. Perhaps this is one reason G.P. was attracted to Amelia. She was known all over the world. Amelia's fame made life exciting for G.P.

Sometimes G.P. made people mad. Reporters never liked to interview Amelia when he was around because he did the talking. And it seemed as if G.P. was always cooking up business deals to make some money from Amelia's name. Amelia Earhart luggage and Amelia Earhart sports clothes became popular items.

Amelia never did ask G.P. to “let her go.” She travelled constantly and wasn't home much. She even took a job at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana. She helped girls in finding jobs, or careers. It's not enough to be someone's wife, she told them.

While their marriage might have seemed odd for the times, it worked for G.P. and Amelia. He gave Amelia freedom. What's more, whenever she wanted to do something, G.P. helped her all the way.

At breakfast one morning in the spring of 1932, Amelia happened to say that she would like to fly the Atlantic Ocean solo. By noon, G.P. had made the arrangements. Amelia met with experts in flying and weather forecasting. G.P. took care of publicity and raising money.

Within a month, everything was ready. Amelia left from an airport in New Jersey, heading north for Newfoundland. Just as she did for her first trip across the Atlantic, Amelia chose the shortest route over the ocean.

She left Newfoundland on May 20 at 7:12 in the evening, exactly 5 years after Lindbergh made his famous flight. She carried two cans of tomato juice, a comb, a toothbrush, and a 20-dollar bill. At 11:00 P.M., she hit a storm. The next 10 hours were tough.

She could not see anything out of the cockpit. She had to trust the plane's instruments. Then the altimeter broke, which measured how high the plane flew. A reserve tank of gas began to leak. Sparks of flame burst from an exhaust pipe. The entire plane shook. Ice formed on the wings and Amelia spun the plane. She almost hit the ocean.

But she made it. The next morning, she landed safely in Ireland.

In June, after Amelia was home, the National Geographic Society honored Amelia. They introduced her as the first woman to fly over the Atlantic, the first woman to fly it alone, and the first
person
in the world to cross it twice. She received the Society's special Gold Medal. President Herbert Hoover, Supreme Court justices, senators, and congressmen were there. They all clapped for Amelia.

With her usual modesty, Amelia replied, “My flight has added nothing to aviation. However, I hope that the flight has meant something to women in aviation.”

People all over the world admired Amelia's courage. By now, she was rich and could have easily retired. Instead, she continued to test herself in the air.

In January, 1935, Amelia announced she would fly from Hawaii to California, some 2,400 miles across the Pacific Ocean. Ten men had died while attempting the crossing. So far, only one man had successfully completed the flight. Newspaper headlines announced that Amelia's proposed flight was a publicity stunt. Amelia paid no attention.

She was in the air for more than 15 hours, but this time the flight was easy. The weather was good. Her plane had the latest equipment. One invention was a two-way radio telephone. Thousands of people tuned in to hear Amelia talk with G.P., who was still in Hawaii. While Amelia flew, she listened to the music of the Metropolitan Opera in New York City. She sipped hot chocolate under a starry sky.

When she arrived the next day in Oakland, California, nearly 10,000 people greeted her. President Franklin D. Roosevelt sent her a letter. “You've scored again,” he wrote.

No one had any idea what Amelia was planning to do next.

Reporters crowded around Amelia.
Why do you want to fly around the world,
they shouted at her.

Amelia grinned, then chuckled. She was 38 years old. The reporters wrote that Amelia looked like a young girl with her freckled nose, short hair, and slim build.

“Because I want to,” she said simply.

In 1936, planes were becoming common. Already there were passenger planes seating 10 people and flying from coast to coast. Planes were even beginning to carry mail. Planes had crossed the oceans, explored the North and South Poles, and flown around the top of the world. But no one had ever dared to make the longest and most dangerous trip of all—a trip around the middle of the earth at the equator—25,000 miles of deserts, jungles, and ocean.