THE PARACHUTE QUEEN

By Paul Paris Jr.

Abby Simpson flees her abusive father in East Texas during the Great Depression. She attends her first airshow and is introduced to the dangerous, entertaining world of barnstorming. She marries daredevil Jesse Bradshaw, and they tour the country with The Flight Crew. Barnstorming is plagued with rickety aircraft, unsafe parachutes, and crazy pilots. Dozens of fearless performers lose their lives while making a living. Jesse is killed when he performs a risky five-parachute jump. His widow is left with a difficult choice.

With no education, family, or money, Abby chooses the risky barnstorming lifestyle to survive even though female performers are rare. She quickly becomes a star. Newspapers all over the country call her "The Parachute Queen," the darling of the skies.

Based on a one-of-a-kind true story, The Parachute Queen takes you on a riveting ride in the sky through the eyes of a woman who dared to rise above the odds and make history.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798890613639

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

About the Author

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THE PARACHUTE QUEEN

Paul Paris Jr.

Copyright © 2024 Paul Paris Jr

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-89061-362-2 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89061-363-9 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To Norah Anne Paris, the world's best reader.

Chapter 1

Based on a true story

Dalby Springs, Texas

April 14, 1932

Seven-year-old Corky Simpson was way behind in his afternoon chores. He hustled to the chicken coop carrying a basket. He gathered ten brown eggs, enough for tomorrow's breakfast. While walking to the house, he heard a strange sound approaching from the south.

A biplane swooped over the barn at one hundred feet off the ground. The pilot waved and smiled. Corky watched the air machine and forgot about the raised tree root. He fell and dropped the basket. The eggs flew in all directions.

Gosh darn it! Gosh darn it all! he exclaimed.

He scooped the mess into the basket and trudged to the back porch. He sat it down and wiped his gooey hands on his overalls. His seventeen-year-old sister, Abby, returned from her chores and tossed the empty slop bucket on the ground.

Some mess you got here, she said. She looked at his dirty hands, sticky clothes, and the glob in the basket.

Any survivors? Abby smiled and walked over to her youngest brother.

No, 'fraid not. Pa's gonna tan my hide fer sure. Eggs is his favorite. Darn it all, Abby!

What happened?

I was watching that airplane and wasn't paying no attention to where I was going. Did you see him?

Yep. Darn near blew my hat off. Reckon that's the first one I ever seen. Wasn't it exciting? Let's clean this mess up before the old man shows up. He'll have a conniption fit.

Abby grabbed a broom and a dustpan to scoop up the yellow pool. They detected movement from the far end of the long back porch. Their pa stood with arms folded, an angry scowl across his weathered face.

What happened? he said in a loud voice. He stomped toward the pair while rolling up his sleeves. He stood before them and unbuckled his belt. Somebody's gonna get a whipping!

Pa, I'm sorry. It was an accident. The airplane scared me, and I fell. I'm real sorry!

The belt came toward Corky, and Abby grabbed Pa's hand. Corky shielded his head with both hands.

Let go! Pa commanded.

Abby shrieked, No! No! It was an accident! Leave him be!

Pa's backhand to Abby's face caught her off guard. She reeled to her right and crashed into the tool rack. She pulled a shovel down and gripped it with both hands.

You trying to scare me? Pa was furious. He sprang toward Abby, fists flailing. The first blow landed on her chin. Before he could strike again, the back door flew open. Ma leaped toward her husband.

Ernest, stop it! Stop it right now! she yelled. She grabbed the belt and attempted to wrestle it from him. He shoved her hard, nearly knocking her from the porch.

Keep out of this, woman!

Abby snatched Corky's arm, and they jumped from the porch. Pa slapped his wife and pushed her down. He stomped through the door and headed for the whiskey bottle beside his rocking chair. The white lightning kicked in, and the cursing stopped.

No one spoke during supper. Abby excused herself and headed to the bathroom. She touched her swollen chin and stared into the mirror.

*****

The bedroom door creaked open, revealing the unwelcome silhouette. Abby clutched her pillow and pretended to be asleep. A bristly face hovered only inches above hers. Abby smelled the whiskey breath. A rough hand touched her head and stroked her hair. She had learned not to make a sound. The drunken man would dish out another beating if he discovered his daughter was fully dressed.

Ernest, ain't you coming to bed? The woman's voice startled him. He mumbled and staggered toward the door. Abby slowly exhaled. Her trembling subsided, and she cried.

Nearly half an hour passed before she pulled on her boots. The house was silent, and dark, except for Pa's disgusting snoring. Her mother despised the old man too. Abby would be the first to escape.

Two brothers occupied the other side of the bedroom, separated from her by a blanket draped over a wire. Her youngest brother, Corky, lay sleeping on top of the covers wearing his favorite pair of skivvies. Abby was like a mother to him and his two brothers. She washed their clothes and cooked their food. Abby placed a note under his pillow.

Goodbye, my sweet one, she whispered.

What in Sam Hill are you doing, Abby? Is something wrong? He sat up on an elbow and stared at her.

No, I mean yes, I mean… She looked into his eyes. I just wanna tell you goodbye. She grasped his forearms with her hands. I'm leaving for good.

So you're finally doing it? His surprised look turned into a smile. I knew this was gonna happen one day. We all wanna do it. We hate this place! He sat up all the way and put his arms around her. You've got more guts than all of us put together.

She kissed him on the cheek. I'll miss you.

Abby opened her second-floor window and eased onto the honeysuckle-covered trellis. She descended to the ground and sprinted to the giant oak tree.

She swept back a pile of leaves and grabbed her knapsack. It contained two shirts, a pair of panties, two ham sandwiches wrapped in cheesecloth, a steak knife, and a small purse. She started toward the road but suddenly ran back to the house. She snapped off a small honeysuckle twig and stuffed it into a pocket. Abby ran to the mailbox and stopped. She picked up a stone and threw it toward the house as hard as she could.

I hate you! You wicked old man! I hate you!

Chapter 2

Abby walked two miles to the main highway. She stepped into a ditch and went to sleep. A few hours later, a truck awakened her. She relieved herself in the bushes and climbed to the road. She arrived at the Crenshaw farm and tapped on a bedroom window. Her best friend appeared in a few moments.

What in the world are you doing? Rebecca asked.

I need your horse, Abby responded.

What's going on? Sun ain't even up. Why do you want her?

Getting away from Pa.

Rebecca pulled on a pair of overalls and climbed out. They walked to the barnyard.

I need some supplies in town, Abby said.

Where are you running to?

Abby frowned, took a deep breath, and looked away. Don't really know. Just want to go far away. That's all.

Go to Minnesota. I saw it in a schoolbook. It's almost in Canada.

A sound on the front porch caught their attention. Rebecca's pa was banging his pipe on a post.

Come on, give me your horse! Abby demanded.

I can't. Pa would skin me alive. I can't. I just can't.

I thought you were my friend.

Abby spun and ran to the road.

*****

Abby crouched behind a tree and watched the general store in Dalby Springs. George Watson flipped the sign to Open, and she sprinted to the door.

Well, such an early start, Mr. Watson said.

I need a pistol, Mr. Watson.

The old man walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder. You're sweating. Why do you want a pistol?

I'm leaving town and need protection.

Watson studied her for a moment. Well, I don't know what you're up to, but I'm not selling you a pistol. What would your pa say?

Don't rightly care what he says.

Suddenly, Abby whirled and ran from the store.

Her pa drove his pickup slowly down Main Street. Abby! Abby! Anyone seen my Abby?

Donald Tate was returning the handle to the pump at the gas station as Abby rushed up. He opened the driver's door, and she grabbed his arm.

Wait! Please wait! My pa is trying to kill me! Abby took deep breaths.

Donald saw the slow-moving truck. Shotgun blast.

Get in quick! He shoved her into the back seat and closed the door.

Young lady, get your head down! Donald, hurry up! the woman in the front seat demanded.

He started the Model T Ford and quickly pulled away. They traveled north on the main road for two miles before anyone spoke.

Want to talk about it? Donald asked.

No, sir. Not now. Abby paused. I just want to get away.

Where are you headed, missy? Luella asked.

Minnesota.

That's a might far.

Yes, ma'am.

Donald looked at Abby over his right shoulder We're going to our daughter's house in Tulsa to see our new granddaughter. Little girls are fun. Don't you think?

I wouldn't know. All I got is a houseful of brothers. She paused. Thank y'all for helping me.

We're happy to, dear. I am Luella Mae Tate, and this is my husband, Donald.

Pleased to meet you, ma'am. My name is Abby.

Three miles north of the Welcome to Oklahoma sign, the car pulled up to Clara's Diner. Trucks dominated the parking lot. The red neon sign Breakfast 24 Hours flickered and produced a low-pitched buzzing.

Truckers can't be wrong. This place serves the best chicken and dumplings in the world, Donald said. He winked at his wife. Well, except for Luella. They melt in your mouth.

Luella smiled at her husband and then turned to the waitress. I'll have the blue-plate special.

Same for me, please. Abby avoided looking at the menu.

Truckers glanced in Abby's direction. The slouchy one with the oily green cap was staring each time she looked up. The waitress brought the check twenty minutes later.

Ma'am, where can I go to do my business? Abby asked.

Outhouse through the back door, to the right.

The little building sat by a tree, one hundred and fifty feet away. After she finished, Abby opened the door. The man with the oily green cap stood in front of her.

Guess I didn't catch your name, sweet thang, he said. His tobacco-stained yellow teeth were rusty pellets.

Guess I didn't throw it. Now get out of my way.

Got any spare change?

Nope. Fresh out.

She attempted to go around him. He planted his arm against the building, blocking her getaway. With the knapsack in her right hand, she slugged him in the jaw with a left hook. The man's head snapped back, and he grabbed her by the hair. He pinned her against the outhouse with his body.

Get off me! She tried to push him away without success.

No change? You're a little liar. He paused. A little kiss won't hurt nothin'. You're a wild one!

His breath smelled like burnt grease. He banged her head against the building and punched her in the stomach. She doubled over, and his knee crashed against her chin. His hands wrapped around her neck. She slipped her left hand into the knapsack. Lightning fast, she plunged the steak knife deep into his right armpit. He dropped to one knee, and Abby kicked him in the chest. The man collapsed on his back. He rolled over, and she snatched his money clip.

Abby returned to her seat and avoided eye contact. She tried to act normal, but Luella Mae focused on Abby's forehead.

What in the world happened?

Why, really nothing, Miss Luella. I just…you know…I…uh…

There is a big scratch above your right eye. It's trying to bleed.

Abby touched it and saw a red smudge. "Oh, that? I, uh, scraped a low tree branch. That's all. It's really nothin'."

Luella Mae dipped a napkin in her water and dabbed the injury.

Chapter 3

Abby watched the countryside roll by while Luella Mae prattled about grandchildren, how to make peach preserves, and church quilting bees. Abby dozed off, but her sleep was interrupted by the rough road.

The Dream

Abby was gathering eggs in the henhouse for Mrs. Downy, a kindly old neighbor. When she reached the last chicken, the bird turned to face her. It had two heads and long fangs. Without warning, it lunged for her. Abby dropped the basket and swatted at the bizarre creature. She fell backward and screamed. Mrs. Downy offered no help.

Abby awoke with a start.

*****

They arrived in Tulsa late in the afternoon. The new grandparents dashed into the house to cuddle the newborn. Abby followed the three brothers to the backyard to see the new kittens.

You can have one if you want to, offered Billy, the eldest boy. Daddy said he was going to drown 'em in the crick.

No, I don't reckon I'll be needin' a cat in Minnesota. She squatted beside the box and stroked each one. I don't have room in my bag anyways.

Where's Minnesota? the youngest boy asked.

Oh, it's a long way from here, Abby replied. I saw it one time in a book.

*****

They invited Abby for supper and to stay overnight. Table talk was lively, as fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans were passed around. The adults spoke of the new baby, while the children remained silent.

Billy says you're headed for Minnesota, Abby. Is that right? the new mother asked, sipping buttermilk.

Yes, ma'am. Abby wiped her greasy fingers on a napkin.

Is someone waiting there for you?

Abby shifted in her chair. Yes, ma'am. I got kinfolks there.

Before the woman could continue the interrogation, her husband looked up. Our neighbors haul a load of livestock to Kansas City twice a month or so. You might be able to hitch a ride with them tomorrow.

Yes, sir, I would be much obliged. The curious grandmother asked no further questions.

His name is Bo, and his wife is Naomi. They live about two miles north of here. Billy can show you.

The young boy swiped a shirtsleeve across his mouth and put his fork down. Swell! Let's go! May we be excused, please?

Abby and Billy walked down the dirt road, as the sunlight began to fade.

I didn't know womenfolk rode on cattle trucks, Abby said.

Naomi's been riding with Bo since they lost their baby to pneumonia last fall. She never stays alone. They say something happened to her head.

Billy knocked on the front door, and Bo appeared in a few moments, holding a beer. Hey, Billy. What brings you here?

This is Abby from Texas. She needs a ride up north. Can she hitch a ride with you tomorrow?

A young woman with blonde hair appeared at Bo's side, wiping her hands on an apron.

I'd be much obliged, mister. Abby smiled at Bo.

We'd be right proud to help, wouldn't we, Naomi? Bo turned to his wife.

Yes, it'll be good having someone to talk to, besides Bo. She winked at her husband.

Then that settles it. We'll load around five and pick you up at Billy's around six.

As Billy and Abby were walking back to his house, he stole glances at her. She caught him the fourth time and stopped.

"What are you looking at? You ain't never seen a girl before?"

Sure, but I never seen a runaway. That's what you are, right?

Chapter 4

A person could smell the stockyards a half mile away. Auctions at the cattle barns in East Texas did not compare to the acres of cows in Kansas City. Pens stretched in all directions, and the doomed cattle cried out. Dirty cowhands roamed around.

A fire nearly burned the place down a few years ago. Bo made a sweeping gesture toward the pens. Got more saloons, dice games, and pool halls than ever before. Riffraff just looking for trouble.

He stopped the truck in front of the dispatch office and looked over at Abby and Naomi.

Don't go nowhere. I'll be back in fifteen minutes.

You're not going anywhere without us! Naomi jerked open the passenger door