Len, the Pilot

By Wayne Lundquist

Th is book is a love story. Its main focus is on ten years in the life of
Len. His chance meeting with a lovely young Southern girl, Velma,
was to change his life dramatically. Too, this encounter was no less
than destiny. For through this one chance meeting, he was able to
salvage tragic loss and overcome intense loneliness which would
drastically alter his life and the lives of those he loved, two young
sons.
It was through aviation that he met his destiny in Velma as he participated
in the American Air Races shows. On the sixth of November
of 1933, George Weaver bought his daughter, Velma, an airplane
ride. Len was the pilot.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462856121

Wayne Lundquist

I began writing poetry and songs after retiring from the US Air Force serving at the facility in San Antonio Texas. My military career included one year in the US Marine reserves then went to spend twenty years in the Air Force. After writing that first poem my writing had no end. I began writing songs and poetry. The songs carried me to the NSAI Critique Session in Pineville I have been richly blessed with family members. My first son was born in France, the second son died in birth, then a daughter and son in Clover, SC. Next I was again blessed with two more daughters through a second marriage and finally a daughter we adopted. My wife, Karen and I are members of Christ the King church in Charlotte NC; We are surrounded with family and friends.

Book preview

Also by Wayne Lundquist

Poetry of Faith

She’s the Well That I Drink From

A Poet’s Garden

(200 numbered copies)

Complete with one typographical error

Len,

The Pilot

WAYNE LUNDQUIST

Copyright © 2011 by Wayne Lundquist.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2011905749

ISBN: Hardcover    978-1-4628-5611-4

ISBN: Softcover      978-1-4628-5610-7

ISBN: Ebook           978-1-4628-5612-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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92771

CONTENTS

In Appreciation

Foreword

Chapter One: The American Air Races

Chapter Two: Meeting Velma

Chapter Three: South Range—Len’s Boyhood

Chapter Four: The Circus

Chapter Five: Marriage and Courtship

Chapter Six: Entering Aviation

Chapter Seven: Rebuilding a Life in Aviation

Chapter Eight: Together, at Last

Chapter Nine: Velma’s Diary 1936

Chapter Ten: Changes, 1937

Chapter Eleven: Ashland Airport, 1937

Chapter Twelve: Charlotte, North Carolina, 1938

Chapter Thirteen: Charlotte to Gastonia, 1939, Velma’s Diary

Chapter Fourteen: Wings Over Gastonia, March-October 1939

Chapter Fifteen: Wings Over Gastonia, November-December 1939

Chapter Sixteen: Wings Over Gastonia, January 5-April 6, 1940

Chapter Seventeen: Wings Over Gastonia, April-June 1940

Chapter Eighteen: America Gearing Up for War, Len in Burlington

Chapter Nineteen: Wings Over Gastonia, July 24-September 30, 1940

Chapter Twenty: Wings Over Gastonia, October 1940-January 2, 1941

Chapter Twenty-one: Wings Over Gastonia, January-March 1941

Chapter Twenty-two: Wings Over Gastonia, April-May 1941

Chapter Twenty-three: Wings Over Gastonia, June-July 1941

Chapter Twenty-four: Wings Over Gastonia, August-September 1941

Chapter Twenty-five: Wings Over Gastonia, October-November 1941

Chapter Twenty-six: Wings Over Gastonia, December 1941

Chapter Twenty-seven: Wings Over Gastonia, January-February 1942

Chapter Twenty-eight: Wings Over Gastonia, March 1942

Chapter Twenty-nine: Wings Over Gastonia, April-May 1942

Chapter Thirty: Wings Over Gastonia, June-September 1, 1942

Chapter Thirty-one: Leaving Gastonia, 1942

Chapter Thirty-two: Coastal Patrol Base 21, 1943

Dedication

This book

Len,

the Pilot

Is Dedicated to the

Memory of

L. Harold Lundquist

and

Donald N. Lundquist

and to

Velma, who never stopped loving Len

IN APPRECIATION

I owe many thanks to the people who supported me and helped me in my effort to write this book. They have been numerous. They have encouraged, given me the opportunity to close myself off in solitude, and have helped me with the mechanics of writing. My wife, Karen Wall Lundquist, kept it from vanishing more than once.

I have written the book completely on a home computer which was not sympathetic to what I was attempting to do. It crashed more than once. In fact, its blue screen, its victimization to computer viruses, and sometimes just its plain orneriness often baffled me or sent me into near shock. Once, the book was retrieved after a malicious virus attack, but it was almost unintelligible and was scattered about in no order at all. It took weeks to realign what had been paragraphs and chapters. All of the success throughout this constant deluge of mishaps was through the genius of my wife, Karen. I do not think it would have been possible for me to write, rewrite, and complete this project without Karen’s support.

Sallie W. Nixon and I read poetry together and gave poetry readings in settings from Pinehurst to Gastonia, North Carolina. A special thanks goes out to Sylvia Bajorek, who gave us the opportunity to read at Gaston College. Many friends and family came out to support us and make this reading most meaningful. It was Sallie who said I could not write this book as a biography because of the intense human interest evident in its pages. She insisted this book be written as a biographical novel.

K. Eric Rick Lundquist and Francis Sicard Lundquist have been supportive from the first. Rick has kept pace with me as the writing progressed and has answered numerous questions regarding airplane terminology of which I was not familiar. Rick also sent me books and suggestions to guide my progress.

Gary L. Lundquist and wife Sandra have consistently helped me. Gary, through providing papers and documents of which I was unaware. He has been a constant supporter in the process of putting this book together. Sandra has kept me aware of programs in the community, which have benefited me by attendance and exposure to new thoughts and activities important to the culmination of this book.

Amber and Tabitha Neal—two of my lovely daughters have helped me construct the book. Amber did some major proofreading for me in the early chapters, which was help I greatly needed and appreciate, particularly with those areas of the book that contained conversations between the characters. Tabitha helped me in the early parts of formatting the book by assisting in arranging chapters. She saw that I needed help and quietly volunteered.

Judy Stogniew, my sister, has been completely supportive of my task in putting this book together. She was the one who remembered Velma, our mother, talking about the epidemic of the Spanish flu, which wiped out her family when she was just a small child. Judy and her husband Marty spearheaded the financing in seeing this book published, along with Francis Sicard and K. Eric Lundquist.

J. Norman Young wrote most of the articles for Wings Over Gastonia in The Gastonia (NC) Daily Gazette for the period of time Len was building aviation in Gastonia and Gaston County, 1939-1942. He was one of the first pilots trained by Len and was enthusiastic about the development of aviation’s growth and development. From an article, Wings Over Gastonia, August 26, 1941, Norman Young wrote, Leonard Lundquist . . . is more or less the father of Gastonia’s flock of eagles, having taught about all the pilots here for the first two years of the Spindale City’s entry into the flying industry. Unfortunately I never met Norman Young and know him only through his writing and the legacy he has left among those who knew him as one of the finest gentlemen in Gastonia.

Clyde Cobb is one of Karen’s fishing buddies, one of many. Clyde told Karen that he was a graphic designer and that he could help me with designing and preparing photographs, etc., for inclusion in my book. I was amazed and delighted at what Clyde has provided. It is well beyond my expectations and wishes.

J. Thomas Bertrand, chairman, advisory board of the National Peace Foundation, showed me the beauty of writing as he wrote the foreword for Sallie’s book, A Kind of Peace. I was able to get this book published for her. Tom visited with Sallie when possible as he traveled from his home near Asheville, North Carolina, to Washington DC. Sallie always included me in these visits. Tom has provided immense encouragement, although he may not realize it.

FOREWORD

This book is a love story. Its main focus is on ten years in the life of Len. His chance meeting with a lovely young southern girl, Velma, was to change his life dramatically. Too, this encounter was no less than destiny. For through this one chance meeting, he was able to salvage tragic loss and overcome intense loneliness, which would drastically alter his life and the lives of those he loved, two young sons.

Len’s father, Erick Lundquist, came to America from Sweden, following a dream of verdant forests, lush fields of grass, clean, clear bottomless lakes, and wildlife in abundance. His uncle told him that these could be found in Wisconsin and invited Erick to come and live with him in this beautiful land. While still in his late teens, Erick accepted the invitation. In 1896 Erick married Ole Anderson’s daughter, Caroline. Len was their second child, having one older sister and two younger brothers.

Len grew up on a farm, learning all that hard work and family could teach. He learned to hunt and fish from local Indians and learned how to live in and with nature through them. Len knew he did not want to be a farmer but had a dream to learn all he could about life outside of the farm. He was a motorcycle rider at the age of eleven, a daring enthusiast who had to conquer that which challenged one to excel beyond the norm.

Orville and Wilbur Wright made their first airplane flight when Len was five. Their achievement was to have a significant affect on his life. His story covers that period of early America as she entered the age of motor cars and airplanes. His interest in aviation led him into relationships with Wiley Post, Kingsford Smith, Charles Lindberg, Amelia Earhart, Jimmy Doolittle, and others. In the 1920s and 1930s Len built and serviced airplanes for the Monocoupe Corporation in Saint Louis, Missouri; the Detroit Aircraft Company; the Detroit Aircraft Corporation (owned by the Detroit Aircraft Company); Hartung Aircraft, Detroit, Michigan; and the Lockheed Corporation in Burbank, California.

Len’s dedication to learning all he could in the field of aviation, his hard work, energetic enthusiasm, and focus made him a valuable asset to those who employed him. This enabled him to find ready employment throughout the Great Depression.

It was through aviation that he met his destiny in Velma as he participated in the American Air Races shows. The Air Races worked their way down the eastern seaboard, beginning in Toledo, Ohio, through New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Washington DC, Virginia, and North Carolina. On November 6, 1933, George Weaver bought his daughter, Velma, an airplane ride. Len was the pilot. After they landed, he and his wife, Virgie, then invited Len to come to supper, an expression of southern hospitality.

Len saw Velma again when he went to George and Virgie Weaver’s home for supper. The next day, the air show went to Asheville, North Carolina, where it broke up and the flyers all went home, Len back to Detroit, Michigan. He wrote to Velma, telling her she was a cool kid and should learn to fly. She responded with a letter and poem about the airplane flight she had so enjoyed. This began an exchange of letters that lasted nearly two years. Finally, in September of 1935, Len sent Velma $20 and asked her to come to Detroit so they could talk. Velma got on a Pullman train and left Charlotte on the thirteenth of September. Two days later Len met her at the train station in Detroit. They were married on the twenty-eighth of September and the love story continued until his untimely death eight years later.

I began to write Len’s story as a biography when my two youngest children were elementary age. I let Sallie W. Nixon read what I had written. Her response was, Wayne, this has to be written as an historical novel. It has too much human interest. I would love to see it as a movie.

This stumped me, and for ten or more years I was unable to see myself as a writer of a novel. Sally and I read poetry together for twelve years. After her death in March 2008, I began to think about her earlier suggestion. I started to read more and try to understand how a novel is created.

In 2009 I started over in my attempt to write the story of Len and Velma. It is a blend of many parts. It contains Velma’s diary, newspaper articles, postcards and excerpts from letters written by Len, family history and historical records, numerous articles from The Gastonia (NC) Daily Gastonia Gazette, and Len’s pilot logs.

It contains stories my mother told. She wanted me and my younger brothers to know our father and told us many stories about him. It also includes stories told to me by my brother Harold and others who knew him. Len was buried on my seventh birthday, and for about thirty years my only memory of him was the stories mother told us. I did not realize these stories were what I thought to be memory until 1973. Chaplain Albert A.L. Hockaday, with whom I worked at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonia, Texas, asked me about my father. It was then that I first realized I had no personal memory of him, and still don’t. My memory was apparently blocked out by the trauma associated with losing him to this thing called death, something I could not accept or understand. So the stories were my memory.

This book is also the many records of his life. Letters he wrote to Velma give a marvelous insight into his life and the time in which he lived. The Great Depression was rampant throughout America during part of their time together. Yet aviation was new and growing rapidly. It was challenging and exciting. To Len it was his life, his chosen field of endeavor, and he was good at what he did. Velma saved every letter Len wrote her in the early years after their initial meeting. She kept every note and the letters written later when they were separated by business or circumstance. She kept them until she died on June 22, 1988, five days short of forty-five years following Len’s death.

Weekly newspaper articles from The Gastonia (NC) Daily Gazette provide a look into the impact Len had on aviation in Gastonia and Gaston County, North Carolina. These articles and articles related to aviation in general for the years 1939 to 1942 fill many pages of this book. Included are articles that focus on the developing war in Europe, America’s support of Great Britain, and then the tragedy of Pearl Harbor. These articles were gleaned from microfilm files at the Gaston County Library. Many of the articles were difficult to read, especially where the newsprint had been folded, or words and letters were blackened or so faint they were not readable. The reader will note that this is evident in the case of a missing word or name, or more. Practically all of the photographs in these articles were so dark that they could not be used. Too, I tried to find all of the articles that were written by J. Norman Young but cannot be certain that I was completely successful. Also included are articles that identify men and women who were on the scene either as student pilot or somehow related to aviation in general. Too, there are articles that set the stage for life in that period of time in Gastonia and our nation.

The book Coastal Patrol Base 21 was dedicated to Len and two others who died there. It and the book From Maine to Mexico tell the story of the magnificent effort of men and women who gave up their personal lives for their country in stopping the loss of American ships by German U-boats along the eastern sea-lanes.

Entries from Len’s pilot logs are included. One or two are missing, but the first one and the last one, along with some in-between, are included herein. Altogether there were eight. The ones available provide a record of where Len was during specific dates. They also include the particulars regarding airplanes he flew. For instance, his first airplane was a Parks P-1, identification no. (commonly referred to as tail number) 611V, with an OX5 liquid cooled engine. This was an open cockpit biplane.

Also included are many of the entries in Velma’s Five-Year Diary, which she began in January 1936. These entries give a history of their life together as seen through her eyes. They speak of laundry, meals, family, friends, times of love shared of heartache or disappointment, places lived, movies they went to see, and life in general.

This book and all of the memorabilia have been offered to the Gaston County Museum. This includes Len’s pilot logs, Velma’s diary, the book Coastal Air Patrol Base 21, Len’s badge from the Chicago World Exposition in which he worked in 1933, his billfold (which was damaged in the fire that consumed the airplane in which he was killed), his checkbook with the last few entries of checks written, his money belt with a Japanese government one-peso note in it, the many letters Len wrote to Velma, their marriage booklet and marriage license, his captain bars, Civil Air Patrol patches, and more. The curator of the museum, Stephanie Haiar, has recognized the historic value of the development of aviation in Gastonia for the period of time 1939-1942 and has chosen to accept this offering.

I want to express my grateful support in researching material for this book for the ZMC-2 and related information on aviation from that period of time to Jimmy Wales and his staff at Wikipedia.

CHAPTER ONE

The American Air Races

It had been on the radio and in the newspaper for days now, and it was all her father, George, and Steve could talk about. The American Air Races were coming to town. They would be putting on the biggest, fastest, most exciting air show Charlotte, North Carolina, had ever seen. Many of the nation’s best, known pilots would be participating. Velma picked up on their excited conversations, and in her imagination she was there as the airplanes flashed in the late fall sunshine.

Velma’s mother and father, George and Virgie, rented out the upstairs rooms by the week or by the month. One of their renters, Steve McAllister, lived in one of these rented rooms. Actually, he had a bedroom and a small kitchen apartment. Steve worked at a local machine shop and had been living in George and Virgie’s upstairs apartment for about a year now. Steve had an Indian motorcycle, which he kept in the shed in the backyard, but most of the time it was standing in the front yard, near the porch. Since all of the talk about the American Air Races and the upcoming air show, every time Steve cranked up his motorcycle, Velma imagined the roar of airplane engines. She even dreamed that she was the pilot, roaring through the cloud-strewn sky with crowds of people cheering her on.

Everyone, it seemed, was planning on going to the airport to see the American Air Races. Velma was really quite excited that her father had said that they would all go. Clarence, her older brother, was almost as excited as Velma, but her sister Mary, also older, acted like she was only half interested. Velma thought she was only acting that way to appear sophisticated. Mary was always acting sophisticated.

At seventeen, Velma was tall, with long dark hair. Her mother, Virgie, said it was like a horse’s tail, so course and straight. She was light of step, with a natural quality of poise and posture, almost never slumping over as some do. She had deep brown eyes and a quick smile. Mary accused her of being too much of a tomboy. Once she had ridden on the back of Steve’s Indian motorcycle. She knew all of her friends envied her. The power of the engine and the wind rushing by thrilled her more than any other experience. She thought that flying in an airplane would be the only thing to surpass the excitement of riding the motorcycle.

The motorcycle ride had just happened, without forethought or plan. George and Virgie had gone to the train station to pick up Aunt Martha. She had been the reason Velma had come to live with George and Virgie. George often drove down into South Carolina during the watermelon season to get the best price on watermelons, which he sold from the back of his truck, parking it along one of the busy city streets in Charlotte. He also peddled apples during the season from door-to-door, carrying the apples in two-gallon buckets. He knew where the best watermelons were grown down in the sandy country toward Columbia, South Carolina.

He had known Velma’s folks well. On his visits to purchase watermelons, he was introduced to a small child named Velma as Uncle George. Velma was the two-year-old daughter of the people from whom he purchased the melons. Velma had raised her arms for him to pick her up and was quite comfortable letting George carry her around while he watched the loading of the melons onto his truck.

When George had gone for the watermelons the next year, Velma’s father and mother had died in the Spanish flu epidemic shortly after George had purchased his last load of watermelons the year before. The epidemic was sudden and wildly swept through the area where Velma and her parents lived. The high number of people dying from the sweep of the Spanish flu was overwhelming, so much so that many were buried in mass graves.

Velma was living with her mother’s sister, Martha, who had a large family of her own. She had taken Velma in and was doing all she could to take care of her and her own children. She told George about the tragic death of Velma’s mother and father. She also told him that she and her husband did not know what they were going to do, as they could not afford to keep Velma. They were talking about giving her up for adoption. George’s heart went out to her. He had looked forward to seeing Velma again this year, remembering how sweetly she had stolen his heart the year before. He asked Martha to let him talk to his wife, Virgie, and perhaps they could adopt Velma. George and Virgie ended up agreeing to take care of Velma at the early age of three, adopting her into their own family.

Now the motorcycle ride was not planned, it just happened. George and Virgie had not been gone long. Velma was watching Steve prepare to ride his Indian motorcycle. It was the brightest red, with shiny handlebars, lights and trim, and the biggest saddle seat of black leather. Steve would clean and shine the motorcycle until it was clean as a whistle. Steve knew from Velma’s intense interest that she would like to go for a ride.

So when she asked Steve where he was going, he said, Hop on and find out.

Not unless you tell me where you are going, she said.

Steve replied that he was going to run out to the airfield where the Air Races would be putting on the show. He was not going to stay but just look around a bit and come on back. That was enough for Velma. She could not resist the invitation, and off they went. The early November weather was midday sunny and warm, and the ride was exhilarating. In fact it was the most exhilarating thing Velma had ever done. The power of the engine, the rush of the wind, and the sense of freedom filled her with a spirit of wonder and awe. She loved every minute of that ride and was hooked on the excitement. They stopped at the airfield near others who, like them, had been drawn to the field by the anticipation of the coming air show.

They returned to the house just as George and Virgie were arriving with Aunt Martha. Dismounting from the motorcycle, Velma ran to greet her Aunt Martha, and the two hugged each other with enthusiasm. Aunt Martha was one of Velma’s most favorite people, and the two went into the house hand in hand, both trying to talk at once.

Were you riding on that motorcycle machine? asked Aunt Martha.

Yes, and it was such fun, replied Velma as she ran her fingers through her hair, straightening it out from the windy ride.

You sure couldn’t get me on one, not in a million years, said Aunt Martha as they disappeared into the house.

CHAPTER TWO

Meeting Velma

Len slid out from under the belly of the Curtis Pusher airplane and found he was staring straight up at a tall girl with dark hair and dark brown eyes. He had noticed her shapely legs when he heard voices from Velma and her parents. They had come to the airplane without his being aware of their arrival, that is, until he heard the voices. He knew that one of those voices belonged to a young lady with very pretty legs.

Velma’s smile was almost laughter, and she had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Len was completely taken by her stunning beauty. From his viewpoint, lying on the grass, he was more than impressed. Her smile, he noticed, also held a touch of shyness, which immediately endeared her to him. It erupted from a smooth complexion ringed by that thick hair falling loosely to her shoulders.

Except for her fair skin, she reminded him of the Indian people he had known in his childhood and young life. People he had grown to love by close association. Her complexion was lighter, but the similarities were poignant. She had leaned forward to see what this aviator might be doing under the airplane and was amused by his sudden discovery of her presence.

Recovering himself, Len continued to remove himself from under the airplane and stand up rather quickly, trying not to collide with her. He could not believe how beautiful she was as he stood next to her. She was nearly as tall as him, still smiling, almost laughing, at his quizzical expression.

Len noticed that the girl was in the company of an older man and woman, who he thought must be her parents. Introductions proved him right. The man introduced himself as George Weaver, his wife as Virgie, and his daughter as Velma. The whole time George was making the introductions, Len was distracted by the presence of Velma. He felt that he would like to know this lovely tall girl.

Len introduced himself as a stunt pilot for the Flying Circus, which had just arrived in town as a part of the American Air Races show and exhibition. He explained that he had been checking out the airplane prior to the afternoon’s show. He also told George that after the show, they would be selling rides to the public and offered to take them up if they were interested.

George declined to go up himself, and Virgie quickly seconded his declination. Velma, however, was ecstatic and begged her parents to allow her to fly with Len. George could see that his daughter was excited about the invitation and agreed.

Len was amused when Velma asked, Why is that airplane so funny looking?

Laughing, Len explained that it was a pusher and invited Velma to climb in so he could explain how it worked. On entering, Velma was a little apprehensive because there was nothing in front of her but a Plexiglas windshield, a long straight handle coming up from the floor, and some pedals. She, however, did not let Len know about her uncertainty but immediately began asking questions.

Hold on a minute, quipped Len, laughing. Let me sit here beside you and we will pretend we are going to take off. First, this airplane is a Curtis Junior ‘pusher.’ As you saw, the propeller is behind us. It pushes the airplane through the air instead of pulling it as other airplanes do. A three-cylinder, forty-five-horsepower engine turns a push propeller which is all behind the cockpit in which we are sitting. This gives the pilot the advantage of increased visibility, of being able to see what is right under our noses.

Len sounded more like a teacher at this point than a pilot, thought Velma.

You will be able to put it all together after taking a flight with me, said Len.

It was the first time Velma had been this close to an airplane, much less in one. She was keenly aware of the combined smell of fabric, paint, leather, and all that identified the aircraft as uniquely different than all previous experiences.

They dismounted, and Len walked the family back to the grandstand area and told them what to watch for as he performed his part in the circus. He told them he would pretend to be a hayseed farmer, wearing bib overalls, with a red union suit covering his upper body.

In the scenario he shows an interest in the airplanes and goes to look the airplanes over more carefully. The pilots run him away, but he continues to wander back to the airplanes and is run off time and time again. While all of this is going on, an announcer on the public address system is giving the crowd a running commentary on what is happening.

Len, as soon as he is run off from one airplane, waits until their backs are turned, talking about the nerve of that hayseed when he is slipping off to another airplane. Finally, when the pilots are not looking, he gets inside of the Curtis Pusher and starts the engine. The pilots all come running his way, and he quickly pushes a handle and the airplane starts to move. Then the fun really begins.

Len performs all sorts of crazy stunts, pretending to be a farmer who knows nothing about airplanes. While the announcer keeps the crowd involved in the story, Len puts the airplane through every imaginable shenanigan, buzzing the other flyers running about on the ground chasing him and putting on quite a show themselves. He does tailspins, wingovers, and a variety of other stunts. At the end, Len lands the Curtis Pusher and guns the engine while holding the wheel brake. This puts the airplane on its nose cone with the tail up in the air. Len then jumps out of the plane and runs to a nearby outhouse to the delighted laughter of the crowd.

For Velma, the highlight of the day was when this extremely talented flyer took her up for a too-brief airplane ride. She was impressed with the ease with which he maneuvered the airplane and with his commentary on the scenes below. He asked her if there was anything in particular she wanted to see, and she tried to identify the streets and buildings below. She was completely enthralled by the view, the flight, the sound of the engine, the freedom of being airborne, and the mystery of this flyer who looked at her with such frank admiration.

Len asked her if she would like to learn to fly an airplane.

I do love flying, she said with excitement in her voice. But, I don’t know if I would want to be the pilot. It looks so complicated. I wouldn’t know what those dials and things are supposed to tell you. You make it all look so easy.

It is easy, said Len, once you learn all about it.

The landing was anticlimactic and came too soon for Velma and Len. Then, to Len’s surprise, George invited him to come to their home that evening for a small dinner and party.

Thank you, replied Len, but I have a partner, Glen Stowe. He would have to come with me as we are a team. I wouldn’t want to come without Glen, it wouldn’t be fair to him.

Of course, said George. We insist that you bring Glen along. We want to meet him too.

Len could hardly keep Velma out of his mind the rest of the day, thinking that with the interest she had shown she could easily be taught to fly. Len was a fine pilot, but his heart was in teaching others to fly. Too, this was an easy way for him to keep a cash flow coming in, so he was always on the lookout for those interested in learning to fly. He was glad when it was time to clean up and escort Glen to George and Virgie’s party.

Len arrived at George and Virgie’s about four o’clock and was greeted by Velma. Glen had declined the invitation to go with him saying he wanted to go out with some of the guys. Len guessed Velma’s age to be about sixteen or seventeen. She was wearing a red dress with a red ribbon in her dark hair, and red slippers. Velma told Len that she wanted him to take her on a date.

He looked so puzzled that she said, I’m only teasing, my sister Mary is preparing for a date and she asked me to help her with her hair. Come on, it’s just upstairs to her apartment. She took Len’s hand and led him up the stairs.

Velma called out to Mary as she opened the door, saying, We’re here, Mary, I brought my pilot friend with me.

Mary responded from the bathroom, I’m finishing up, be out in a minute.

Mary’s apartment was limited to a fairly large bedroom and a bath and a small kitchenette. There was a dresser with a large round mirror and bench seat, a chest of drawers to match, and matching end tables on each side of the bed, each having one drawer. The room faced the back of the house, giving a view of the backyard and the side street as the house was on the intersecting corner of two streets.

Velma sat down on the edge of Mary’s bed and pulled Len down beside her, saying, Tell me more about flying and all you do.

That covers a lot of doing, said Len. But he told Velma how he had heard about the plans for the Air Races and wanted to be a part of it. So he had talked his friend Glen Stowe into coming with him on the adventure. He told how they had started in Ohio, then flew to New York, and all of the other stops they had made over the past month of traveling and flying.

While he had been talking, Velma had lay back on the bed and pulled Len down facing her. She was excited about being this close to such an exciting flyer. Len, too, was greatly enjoying the closeness of this lovely young girl who was so interested in listening to him talk about flying and places he had been.

While he was talking, Velma could not resist sneaking in a quick kiss, planted squarely on his lips. Len, however, resisted the urge to follow up with a kiss of his own. Instead he paused, looking closely at Velma, then continued his tale of the Air Races and shows.

Soon Mary came out of the bathroom, and Velma helped her with her hair as Mary sat on the bench in front of the dresser. They chatted about Mary’s date and asked Len questions about the air show as Velma worked on Mary’s hair.

Quickly finishing, Mary said, We’d better be getting downstairs. My date will be here soon.

As they descended the stairs, Len noted that the entrance hallway was spacious, with the set of stairs that wound up to the second level and a landing about two-thirds the way up. The dark-stained banister supported by lathe-turned pickets, painted white, curved around and reversed direction at the landing.

A man and a woman were at the stairs when Len, Velma, and Mary left her apartment. Velma explained that they took in renters who occupied one of the apartments upstairs. George, his wife Virgie, and Velma occupied the downstairs rooms. There was a large screened-in back porch that reached from George and Virgie’s kitchen all the way across the back of the house.

When they entered George and Virgie’s apartment off of the hall, they came into a large living room, with several chairs arranged in groups, with lamps on small tables at each group. There was a large sofa against the front wall and a big fireplace on the wall directly across from the door by which they entered. The room was heated by a furnace somewhere in the house, but there was a coal fire burning in the fireplace that gave the room a cheery glow. The lamps were burning, but the big chandelier was not on, giving the room a friendly, comfortable welcome.

Mary introduced her friend James, who was waiting for her. Mary said, James is taking me to supper followed by a dance. Enjoy Mom’s cooking, it will be super. It was fun meeting you. Makes me almost wish I had gone to see the air show.

After a brief visit, James and Mary left, wishing the flyers well. As they were going out, James asked, Where do you go next?

Len said, We’re leaving for Asheville tomorrow morning.

Velma was suddenly feeling sad that this exciting flyer was leaving her life so abruptly. She even said, Daddy, let’s go to Asheville so we can see the show again. I could even fly there with the pilots and you can drive up there and bring me home.

Land sakes alive girl, said Virgie. That’s over a hundred miles away. Laughing, they moved into the dining room, following Virgie.

The delicious smells of Southern cooking greeted them as they entered. Len suddenly realized that he was hungry and made complimentary remarks about the enticing aromas coming from the kitchen area. Velma’s brother, Clarence, was introduced and kept up a running conversation with the flyers during the meal.

You really made it look as if you didn’t know a thing about an airplane or flying, said Clarence. But I think you would have to know more than the average pilot to be able to make an airplane do all of those crazy stunts.

Right, and not crash, said George.

I had to close my eyes at times, added Virgie. I was sure he was going to fall right out of the sky. The hayseed farmer knew plenty about how to fly an airplane to do all of that and not fly into the ground or something else.

The dinner was more than Len expected, and he was thankful he had come hungry. George and Virgie were perfect hosts and were as thankful to have Len in their home as he was to be invited. It was Southern cooking and Southern hospitality and was a welcome change from what Len and the others usually experienced as they traveled along the eastern seaboard as a part of the American Air Races show.

After dinner, George, Len, Velma, and Clarence spent time in visiting on the front porch. It was an unusually warm November, the sort you get in this part of the South. The temperature was mild, even warm for this time of year, and the setting sun had warmed the area of the front porch perfectly, leaving them only the need of a light jacket or sweater.

As they talked, Len discovered that George was self-employed, trading in everything that could be bought and sold on the open market. He specialized in fruit and vegetables and had a small open-air market behind the house. He also bought and sold property and had several rental properties.

As they were talking, Henry Winchester came over, curious about George’s guest. As it is with friends, Henry began telling tales about George to amuse Len and the others. Like the time he had asked George to mind his small shop while he ran an errand. Business was slow on that particular day, and George agreed to help his friend out. One of the things Henry sold was ale, in a wooden cask set up at the back of the store.

George kept going back and getting a small sip of ale in a glass, just a drop, not enough to be missed on a hot summer day. George thought everyone in town must have gone somewhere, and no one was going to come by anyway, and it was awful hot. So to pass the time on a quiet summer afternoon, he laid down under the spigot on the cask of ale and just barely cracked it open. He got the spigot to drip, just a tiny bit, then lay there and thought about ale. It turned out to be a long quiet afternoon, without interruption. So George cracked the spigot open just a tiny bit more, just in case he might be interrupted too soon.

It was Henry that did the interrupting. He came pulling up in his noisy truck and completely startled George. Not wanting to be caught lying under the spigot on the ale keg, George got up in a big hurry. What he did not realize was that he had really consumed a considerable amount of ale. In fact, when he got up so quickly, he was slightly off balance and ended up traveling toward the screen door somewhat leaning that way and trying to get his feet to catch up with the rest of him. By the time he got to the door, he was traveling at a mighty speed. Luckily, just as he was about crash into the door, Henry opened it. Henry wasn’t so lucky. He had a big fat watermelon under his arm, planning to show to George. He had picked the largest one off of the truck because he wanted George to be impressed.

Well, that watermelon, Henry, and George all ended up in a pile outside the front door. It didn’t take Henry long to figure out what had happened. He had seen a drunk or two before. But why George had gotten so drunk in the time he was gone was more than he could guess, that is, until he saw the ale keg still dripping, George’s body print in the sawdust on the floor, and under the spigot a pillow, which was now catching the dripping ale. Henry made George buy that pillow. It was one like the ladies enjoyed putting on the porch swing. He wouldn’t even let George have it at wholesale either.

It was getting late, and Len said, I had better be getting back to the airport. We have to put the airplanes to bed and get ready for tomorrow.

As he was leaving, Velma got her chance and gave Len a quick hug and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Well, thank you, said the surprised but happy Len. With many thanks, he left with expressions of gratitude for the Southern hospitality.

The next day, the weather turned bad, with light rain and chillier temperatures. The Air Races show left Charlotte, destination Asheville, North Carolina.

Len had wanted to say good-bye to George Weaver and his family, especially Velma. He had enjoyed their hospitality, the evening spent at the Weaver’s home, and Velma was on his mind. Her enthusiasm, youthfulness, striking beauty, and readiness to take to the air filled his thoughts as he prepared to depart Charlotte. In fact he made a special effort to fly over the Weaver home halfway, hoping he would see someone or be noticed as he buzzed their house. Seeing no one, he and Glen headed for Asheville.

The Air Races group landed at Fletcher, North Carolina, near Asheville. There they prepared for the upcoming show. On the day of arrival, the weather was still fairly warm for this time of the year, although the flyers immediately noticed that the temperature was quite cooler than it had been in Charlotte. Still, the sun was shining, and the mountains were waiting for their exploration. Len and Glen were enjoying the sudden updrafts and getting accustomed to the difference the mountainous terrain made in the handling of the airplane. It was all quite enjoyable, and tomorrow the show would be in full swing.

Len wrote and mailed a letter to Velma from Fletcher:

Dearest Velma,

Am sorry I could not stop over to give you the ride. I flew past your house to let you know that I had to go on. Could not see you outside so guess you were still in bed.

Why didn’t I meet you the first day that I landed in Charlotte. We sure could have had a lot of fun, couldn’t we? Hope though I encouraged you to learn to fly and hope I can be your instructor. Maybe could make a noted pilot out of you, at least of more notoriety than I can ever make for myself. Don’t expect I will ever amount to much.

I sure wish you could come to Detroit soon so we could start out on the flying end of the aviation world in a hurry. You don’t seem to get excited very easily and that is a good sign of a prospective pilot.

Will be able to sell you a membership in a flying club and 20 hours of flying for $110.00. Guess that can’t be beat. After that it will cost $3.00 per hour for flying time. This is something to think about.

Well, sweetness, I am still sorry that we did not meet sooner in Charlotte. Sure was tough. Are you sorry too or are you glad. We sure could have seen the