The Spirit of St. Louis: A Profile in Daring

First published Sept. 15, 2020

I have had an interest in building model airplanes of historical interest. Depicted in Figure 1 is an image of the Spirit of St. Louis, a model I built some years ago. On May, 20, 1927, the Spirit of St. Louis piloted by Charles Lindbergh, lifted off from Roosevelt Field, Long Island, New York, and arrived in Paris 33.5 hours later. It was the first successful flight from North America to continental Europe. The transatlantic flight was prompted by a New York business man and hotel owner, a French citizen, Raymond Orteig, who in 1919 put up a prize of $25,000 dollars ($400,000 in 2020 dollars) for the first person to make a non-stop transatlantic flight from New York to Paris. His frequent visits to his homeland were by ship. He wanted to spur more rapid transit across the Atlantic Ocean. By 1927, in response to the Orteig Prize, four crews had planned to cross the Atlantic by air; as a result four men had died, three were severely injured and two others were missing and presumed dead. Each attempt included a multi-engine plane and co-pilots.

Figure 1. Balsa wood model of the Spirit of St. Louis. Built by the author circa 1990.

In response to Orteig’s challenge, Lindbergh persuaded several St. Louis business men to finance the construction of a single seat, single engine, high-wing monoplane. It was covered with linen fabric, painted gray, and custom made by Ryan Aircraft Company in San Diego, CA, specifically for this purpose and to be piloted by Lindbergh, an unknown airplane barnstormer and a U.S. Air Mail pilot. (Figure 2) It was designed to have a large gasoline capacity (450 gallons) and to provide a mechanism for him to urinate through a funnel into a large container while sitting in place. In recognition of his sponsors, St. Louis businessmen, Lindbergh named it the “Spirit of St. Louis”. He flew the plane from San Diego, via St. Louis, to New York. Before the flight to Paris, the press and other commentators referred to him as “the flying fool”. Lindbergh did not carry a parachute and had neither a fuel gauge nor a radio onboard. He did have a small rubber raft folded under his seat. The flight took him over Cape Cod and Nova Scotia and then over the Atlantic. Without pressurization or an oxygen system, much of the flight was at low altitude, at times a few yards above the ocean, so as to stay within an altitude in which cockpit oxygen tension was compatible with clear thinking. The plane had no front windshield. He used a periscope out his side window to visualize anything ahead. He navigated by dead reckoning and was fortunate that the winds were such that his navigation was accurate (“Lucky Lindy!”). In addition, he was flying East with tail winds. The plane was buffeted by rain storms, sleet, and winds. Sleep scientists indicate that people deprived of sleep for these long periods can compensate by catching 30 seconds of sleep, frequently, during that stretch of time. Well into his flight, while at an altitude of 1500 feet, he saw a small fishing boat, suggesting land ahead and, shortly thereafter, flew over Ireland and then across to England and then to the French coast. His arrival in Paris, nearly 34 hours after departure from Long Island was greeted by an estimated 125,000 persons at Le Bourget Aerodrome. The field was not marked on his maps and it was 10:20 pm on his arrival. The lights of thousands of spectator cars provided him a target for landing. On leaving the plane, he was stormed and carried from the field and the souvenir hunters damaged the linen covering of the plane. His flight was certified by the National Aeronautic Association and Fédération Aéronautique Internationale from readings of a sealed barograph they had placed in the plane. It traced his altitude and verified he did not land on route. His return home was by a U.S. Navy ship. Flying West would have been dangerous because of the head winds and the fuel capacity in that tiny plane. President Calvin Coolidge, who ordered him to travel home by navy ship, was concerned about his getting home successfully by air. He wanted to avoid celebrating a dead hero! (The Spirit of St. Louis returned on the same ship.) Lindbergh became a live hero and was hailed throughout the world for this remarkable feat of courage and endurance. He received the Medal of Honor and the Distinguished Flying Cross from President Coolidge. A 10 cent postage stamp honoring his flight was released in 1927. (Figure 3) One look at the flimsy, single engine, plane he flew to Paris, singlehandedly, speaks to this extraordinary pioneering feat.(Figure 2) His flight spurred the development of commercial aviation and air mail; both were inevitable, but were given a dramatic boost by his flight.

Figure 2. Charles Lindbergh next to the Spirit of St. Louis prior to his flight to Paris in 1927. Critically important, the engine was 223 horsepower, nine cylinder, air cooled and of high reliability, manufactured by Wright Aeronautical. The plane is preserved in the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum.

After returning to the United States, he toured over dozens of cities and countries in Latin America. In Mexico, he met his future wife, Anne Morrow, who was the daughter of the U.S. Ambassador to Mexico. She became an aviator under his tutelage and had a remarkable career in aviation, as did he. She was a prolific author and an adventuresome pilot. They had the tragedy of having their first child kidnapped and murdered, but went on to have five additional children together. Prior to World War II, Lindbergh expressed anti-war views and this included Anglophobic, anti-Semitic, anti-communist and anti-capitalist rhetoric. The reaction to the “crime of the century”, his child’s kidnapping and murder, led them to leave the U.S. and live in Europe for four years. Later, on return to the U. S., he led a double life, romantically involved with three German women with whom he fathered seven children. None knew who their father was until years later after his death. Paternity was not in doubt based on letters and documents uncovered; it was also confirmed by the children using DNA analysis. His later life was filled with important responsibilities on behalf of the U.S. Government and Pan American Airways. He was involved with the U.S. Air Corps during World War II and flew combat missions in the Pacific theater, remarkably, as a civilian. He wrote and promoted environmental causes. He never understood the reaction to his anti-Semitic, white supremacist and pro-German attitudes. There is too much in his life to encompass in this short commentary. He was a complex personality: daring, accomplished, inventive, outspoken, iconoclastic, uncompromising, racist, and unfaithful.

Fig. 3. Postage stamp released 1927 in honor of Lindbergh’s transtlantic flight.

Written June 2020