Lindbergh
My father sailed to America in May 1927, and for the rest of his life he told how the Spirit of St. Louis flew low over the steamship one day while the captain sounded the latitude and longitude on the ship's whistle. True or not, the story is one that I savor as proof of the moment's significance. Merely to have been on the North Atlantic that afternoon, sharing it with Charles Lindbergh, was an honor worth telling for half a century.
The review is in the Wall Street Journal this morning. Blue skies! -- Dan Ford
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