Amelia Earhart kept her plans to become the first woman to fly alone across the Atlantic a secret. But when she arrived in Saint John to refuel and spend the night, the secret was out and Saint Johners were in a wild frenzy to see the famous pilot about to make history…
As soon as she landed at the old Saint John airport in Millidgeville on May 19th, 1932, excited crowds pushed through police lines, rushing to catch a glimpse of the world-famous 34-year-old record-breaking pilot from Kansas.
Her plane had only barely come to a stop when excited Saint Johners began climbing all over it, peering in the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famed aviatrix.
She seemed warmly amused by their enthusiasm, getting out and sitting on top of her airplane with them. She chatted at length with the Saint Johners, gamely answering just about anything they asked – anything, that is, except her plans. “My plans are infinite,” she told them.
The Telegraph-Journal printed some of the questions Saint Johners asked her as she sat on her airplane on that runway, and her answers:
“Are you worried at all?” one asked.
“No, it would be awful to worry,” she replied.
“What are you going to eat flying the Atlantic? Do you have some sort of compressed food tablets?”
“You don’t get very hungry on a flight of this sort. I guess I’ll just drink some tomato juice.”
Another referred to a recent article by a British aviatrix who said that any woman who tried to fly the Atlantic would die: “Does Lady Heath’s prophecy cause you any worry?”
“Not a bit,” she replied. “I can’t see any reason why a woman properly qualified shouldn’t fly the Atlantic as well as a man.”
Another referred to her recent marriage to a New York book publisher: “How about your husband? Does he object to your starting a Trans-Atlantic flight?”
She smiled charmingly and replied: “I do what I want to do. I don’t interfere with his publishing and he doesn’t interfere with my flying.”
She stayed the night in the Admiral Beatty Hotel. Every detail of her stay became a news story in the Telegraph-Journal, and through those headlines we can get a feel for her night in Saint John:
“Amelia Earhart Dines On Fresh Grilled Saint John Lobster.”
“Amelia Earhart Goes To Bed At 10pm.”
“Amelia Earhart’s Mechanic Goes Out Drinking With [PEI Ace Pilot] W. W. Rogers At Byng Club.”
“Amelia Earhart Rises at 5am.”
“Amelia Earhart Breakfasts on Ham and Eggs.”
And of course the Saint John Evening Times Globe headline: “SHE LIKES OUR CITY!”
She was driven to the Saint John airport at 6:20am, where hundreds of people were already waiting to see her off. At first she was calm and friendly, laughing and chatting with the mechanics. Later she grew serious and quiet.
There was fog rolling in.
After about two hours of waiting she received a telegram from New York City from a Dr. Kimball, who she nicknamed “The Weather Man.” She trusted his forecasts alone. “Weather fine at Harbour Grace” the telegram read.
Harbour Grace, Newfoundland would be her last stop before her historic flight across the Atlantic to Ireland.
“She flashed one of her infectious smiles … her wind-blown blonde hair fell in curls over her forehead. Attied in a leather jacket she waved goodbye to Saint John,” swooned the Evening Times Globe.
She spoke to the assembled crowd before boarding her plane: “I’d really like to stay here longer. However this time I can’t. I certainly will be back to Saint John. It has been wonderful here. Everybody has been so good to us and the surrounding country is really beautiful.”
It wasn’t her first time using Newfoundland as a staging point to make history. Four years earlier she arrived in an effort to be the first woman to ever fly across the Atlantic, along with a male co-pilot.
Three women had attempted the feat before her, and all three had perished in the attempt.
Earhart had arrived at the same time as a rival pilot, a flashy American heiress named Mibs Boll, who newspapers called ‘the diamond queen of the twenties.’ She was also planning the feat at the same time.
The two of them spent several days in Newfoundland waiting out bad weather.
While Mibs held court with her massive entourage in St. John’s during the wait, Earhart went alone to an all-girls school to give a talk to the students.
While the girls were impressed by the pilot, the nuns teaching at the school were distinctly less so. They were aghast at her short hair, brash manner, and most all that she was wearing tight-fitting flying pants. The outraged nuns withdrew her invitation to talk at the local all-boys school.
Her male co-pilot, William Stulz, received the lion’s share of the credit for that flight, despite rumours that his drinking problem was too serious for him to have actually flown, and that it was really her who piloted the plane.
The Evening Times Globe opined that the reaction to that 1928 flight had provided the motivation for this solo 1932 flight. “She was only a passenger, the scoffers said. Just baggage on the trip.”
Her mother agreed, telling the Boston Post: “You know Amelia, the whole thing is really just a question of pride. She got sick and tired of hearing she was just baggage on the other trip.”
The Evening Globe Times continued: “She just waited and bided her time until an opportunity arose in which she could show the world she was capable in her own right.”
Taking only a thermos of chicken soup with her, she boarded her plane in Harbour Grace.
The Telegraph-Journal, which called itself “The Maritimes’ Greatest Newspaper,” had sent star reporter Stuart Truman to Harbour Grace. He wrote: “she stepped, cool and composed, into the cockpit of her plane” before turning to the assembled crowd, and saying: ”to all my friends, far and near, you will hear from me in 15 hours.”
Before she took off, Truman handed her a copy of the Telegraph-Journal to take with her, to confirm the date and time that she had taken off.
“The flight was one of the most difficult I have ever had,” she would later say.
During her flight a crack appeared in the fuselage of her plane, and flames darted out for much of the flight. Multiple of her flying instruments broke. She had to pass through a lightning storm, and in the last two hours ice formed on her plane.
Fourteen hours and forty five minutes later, she landed in a field in Ireland. A local farmer saw the plane land, and when he approached, found her standing with her flying suit covered in gasoline that had leaked out during the flight.
The perplexed farmer politely asked: “have you flown far?”
“From America,” she replied nonchalantly.
Back in New Brunswick, the Evening Times Globe ran the simple but triumphant headline: “SHE MADE IT.” Everyone knew who they were talking about.
- This story appears in the book Backyard History: Forgotten Stories From Atlantic Canada’s Past Volume Two order a signed copy from the author here!
