Charles Lindbergh, at age 25, was already a veteran air mail pilot and reserve captain of the air force, and in the hope of snatching a prize of 25 thousand dollars offered by Reymond Orteig (New York hotelier) for whoever won in a single raid, and non-stop, the 3.600 mile distance that separates New York from Paris.
The manufacture of the device, a Ryan monoplane equipped with special tanks, a 220 HP Wright Whirlwind engine, had no headlights, heating, autopilot and no ice-melting devices.
Charles Lindbergh, in a moment of inspiration, named his plane the Spirit of Saint Louis. When he climbed into the cabin at 7:40 in the morning without having slept in the previous 24 hours, he would regret it more and more in the following hours. The take-off was difficult and he wrote: “About 7:45 am the engine was started and at 7:52 I took off towards Paris”, this on May 20, 1927. Now, over the vast expanse of the dark sea, the lone pilot he was ready to face the greatest battle of his life: storms, mists and ice fought against him. At 18 hours away from New York, half way through, the sun rose in the Old World. Lindbergh knew he could no longer go back. At that moment, a new and terrible struggle broke out. He needed sleep. He shook his head, tapped his face against the palm of his hand, fidgeted to distract himself. The unpainted cloth cabin walls mingled with the gray clouds, producing a paralyzing effect. That's when it happened!
In his book “The Spirit of Saint Louis” he describes his struggle with sleep and fatigue, an account of his unconsciousness during the flight, when a simple distraction would provoke the fatal fall. Lindbergh then narrates how spirit forms entered the plane and that without Their participation he would never have reached Paris. A guiding Spirit helped him to stave off sleep. It was an invisible force that pulled him out of the abyss of sleep. And he describes how he flew almost automatically: the plane veered off course, the guiding Spirit brought him back to consciousness. Lindbergh writes:
“Although I do not take my eyes off the instruments, for a time that seems strange to me, at the same time full of sleep, the cabin is filled with fantastic presences (…) I am not surprised or afraid to see them, without turning my head, I see them as clearly as if my skull became an eye that sees from all sides at once. Now there are many around me… and they speak to me with a strong voice, louder than the noise of the engine. Their voices advise me on the flight, discuss navigational problems, correct and give me extraordinarily important guidance. The distance between New York and Paris no longer matters, my body is weightless.”
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“These spirits seem to form a gathering of family and friends, after years of separation between us, as if I had met them before, in a previous incarnation.”
Finally, after hours of this spiritual companionship, Lindbergh arrives in Paris. It was an apotheosis. Then he returns to the United States as a hero. His flight was very important for the progress of aviation and its success was undeniably due to the direct cooperation of the Spirits.
