‘Was that really me you were describing?’
A warm ripple of laughter passed through the gathering and Amelia took a deep breath.
‘The reason I’m here tonight is to tell you all about the flight I hope to begin in just a few months from now, in June. And, I must confess, I’m also here to pass around the
begging bowl.’
Another peal of gentle laughter and Amelia gazed around, found her husband George a few rows back and focused on him as she started to speak again.
‘You would have all heard of the unfortunate circumstances of my first attempt to circumnavigate the globe, and ending up in Hawaii.’ She produced a good-natured laugh and pulled a
face. ‘That was galling to say the least!’ She put a hand on her hip and produced a self-disparaging grimace which solicited another laugh from the crowd.
‘But we have regrouped and reworked things and we plan to give it another go starting on June 1st.’
Two men in overalls shuffled behind Amelia manoeuvring into place an easel holding a five-foot-square map of the world. Across it stretched a zigzagging red line.
‘The journey is scheduled to begin in Oakland,’ Amelia explained and tapped the map with a wooden pointer handed to her by one of the men. ‘This time we intend to travel west
to east, the opposite way to our last attempt. From Oakland, we fly south-east to Miami and then on to Natal in Brazil.’ She moved the pointer. ‘From there we cross the Atlantic to
Dakar, Senegal in West Africa; across Africa, on to Karachi and Calcutta, then Singapore and south to Darwin, Australia. We then take on the Pacific, perhaps the most arduous stage of the journey.
We take a break in Hawaii and hope to fly from there to Oakland.’
The audience was hushed. The ladies looked stunned; some of the men wore sceptical expressions.
‘Twenty-nine thousand miles in all,’ Amelia went on. ‘Quite a trek!’ She glanced at the rapt faces. ‘Now, I would like to introduce to you my navigator on this
voyage, Mr Fred Noonan.’
A tall, elegantly dressed man in his mid-forties with slicked-back dark-brown hair started to walk through the applauding crowd to the podium. Looking rather serious, he reached the lectern and
pecked Amelia on the cheek. Turning to the audience, he wore a slender smile. ‘Thank you.’
Amelia saw her husband in the throng. He was clapping, a cigar wedged between his teeth.
‘I’m very much second fiddle in all this,’ Noonan commented. ‘Amelia is the star, and rightly so. My job is just to make sure we don’t get lost!’
The two aviators stepped down to the floor as the crowd whooped and applauded loudly. With Eleanor Roosevelt, they turned. Amelia could see the faces of her audience, expressions of admiration,
scepticism, envy, disbelief from some. Noonan was patted on the back, a respectful path was cleared for the First Lady, and in a few moments the band struck up again. George Putnam appeared at his
wife’s elbow, an aura of cigar smoke about his face.
‘Excellent show, sweetheart,’ he said and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You look like you could do with another glass of bubbly.’ Putnam turned and collared a waiter, plucked
up two glasses from a tray and handed one to Amelia.
‘Do you really think it went well, Georgie?’
‘I do. A triumph.’ He was about to add something when they were interrupted by a man wearing a dark-brown suit and trilby. George gave him a puzzled look.
The man removed his hat, ignored George Putnam and said to Amelia. ‘Miss Earhart, I’m sorry to interrupt you.’
‘What is it?’ Amelia replied, eyes narrowing.
‘Could I ask you to come with me?’
She looked startled and turned to her husband.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to alarm you,’ the stranger added. ‘It’s just for a few minutes. My superior would like to have a brief word with you.’
‘Your superior?’
The man leaned into Amelia’s ear. ‘The president, Miss Earhart. The president wants a
A warm ripple of laughter passed through the gathering and Amelia took a deep breath.
‘The reason I’m here tonight is to tell you all about the flight I hope to begin in just a few months from now, in June. And, I must confess, I’m also here to pass around the
begging bowl.’
Another peal of gentle laughter and Amelia gazed around, found her husband George a few rows back and focused on him as she started to speak again.
‘You would have all heard of the unfortunate circumstances of my first attempt to circumnavigate the globe, and ending up in Hawaii.’ She produced a good-natured laugh and pulled a
face. ‘That was galling to say the least!’ She put a hand on her hip and produced a self-disparaging grimace which solicited another laugh from the crowd.
‘But we have regrouped and reworked things and we plan to give it another go starting on June 1st.’
Two men in overalls shuffled behind Amelia manoeuvring into place an easel holding a five-foot-square map of the world. Across it stretched a zigzagging red line.
‘The journey is scheduled to begin in Oakland,’ Amelia explained and tapped the map with a wooden pointer handed to her by one of the men. ‘This time we intend to travel west
to east, the opposite way to our last attempt. From Oakland, we fly south-east to Miami and then on to Natal in Brazil.’ She moved the pointer. ‘From there we cross the Atlantic to
Dakar, Senegal in West Africa; across Africa, on to Karachi and Calcutta, then Singapore and south to Darwin, Australia. We then take on the Pacific, perhaps the most arduous stage of the journey.
We take a break in Hawaii and hope to fly from there to Oakland.’
The audience was hushed. The ladies looked stunned; some of the men wore sceptical expressions.
‘Twenty-nine thousand miles in all,’ Amelia went on. ‘Quite a trek!’ She glanced at the rapt faces. ‘Now, I would like to introduce to you my navigator on this
voyage, Mr Fred Noonan.’
A tall, elegantly dressed man in his mid-forties with slicked-back dark-brown hair started to walk through the applauding crowd to the podium. Looking rather serious, he reached the lectern and
pecked Amelia on the cheek. Turning to the audience, he wore a slender smile. ‘Thank you.’
Amelia saw her husband in the throng. He was clapping, a cigar wedged between his teeth.
‘I’m very much second fiddle in all this,’ Noonan commented. ‘Amelia is the star, and rightly so. My job is just to make sure we don’t get lost!’
The two aviators stepped down to the floor as the crowd whooped and applauded loudly. With Eleanor Roosevelt, they turned. Amelia could see the faces of her audience, expressions of admiration,
scepticism, envy, disbelief from some. Noonan was patted on the back, a respectful path was cleared for the First Lady, and in a few moments the band struck up again. George Putnam appeared at his
wife’s elbow, an aura of cigar smoke about his face.
‘Excellent show, sweetheart,’ he said and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You look like you could do with another glass of bubbly.’ Putnam turned and collared a waiter, plucked
up two glasses from a tray and handed one to Amelia.
‘Do you really think it went well, Georgie?’
‘I do. A triumph.’ He was about to add something when they were interrupted by a man wearing a dark-brown suit and trilby. George gave him a puzzled look.
The man removed his hat, ignored George Putnam and said to Amelia. ‘Miss Earhart, I’m sorry to interrupt you.’
‘What is it?’ Amelia replied, eyes narrowing.
‘Could I ask you to come with me?’
She looked startled and turned to her husband.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to alarm you,’ the stranger added. ‘It’s just for a few minutes. My superior would like to have a brief word with you.’
‘Your superior?’
The man leaned into Amelia’s ear. ‘The president, Miss Earhart. The president wants a
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