"If I am killed ..."

The schoolchildren of the U. S. are nearly unanimous again this year about what-I-want-to-be-when-I-grow-up. When school let out early one day last week in St. Louis, practically no one sneaked to the movies. Some 60,000 small figures, and 40,000 large ones, massed on the Levee to watch the silver-winged Spirit of the city come whirring over to dip and circle in review at the Eads Bridge. Young St. Louis howled its delight./-

In Washington, D. C., at about the same hour, Representative Tom Connally of Texas was saying to his colleagues:

"... Let me suggest that Congress ought to pass a resolution memorializing Colonel Lindbergh not again to risk the hazards of the air or the perils of the sea, but to devote his life to leadership in America in the development of aircraft and in continuing before the young manhood of America that compelling inspiration w'hich his great example has already been."

And Secretary of War Dwight Filley Davis, on his way to St. Louis to talk with Colonel Lindbergh, said: "Lindbergh has performed feats of vast consequence to our nation. . . . But his task is finished. There is no need for him further to expose himself to the dangers that manifestly lurk in his path. . . .

"I have found a general feeling of apprehension for the safety of Colonel Lindbergh, not only among non-fliers but in conversation with experienced aviators. At the recent Washington dinner to the French good-will fliers, Costes and Lebrix, Colonel Lindbergh's flights over Central and South American jungles were the subject of conversation, and it was the consensus that he should quit that sort of thing.

"He is America's air idol and far too valuable to aviation to risk an unfortunate accident. An accident to him would be a serious blow to the future of aviation, and I am going to ask him to confine his activities to ordinary flying in the future."

When he heard of these things, Colonel Lindbergh compressed his lips and spoke as admirers would have expected him to speak. "I haven't heard from Secretary Davis," he said, "and until I do I shall have nothing to say.

"I can say this much. I don't consider that I have been doing stunt flying. I regard my flights as carefully calculated, ordinary ventures that have a minimum of danger.

"However . . . improvements in aviation are certain. They must come and they cannot be made unless experiments are made.

"If it happens that I am killed doing these things, I'm willing to make the sacrifice. But for the present there is no cause for worry. From now on until further notice I am in retirement. I need a rest in private life and am going to try to get it."

Next day, Colonel Lindbergh and the Secretary of War had their conference ("a chummy talk together," Mr. Davis called it). Afterwards, the Secretary of War announced, "There was no admonition. ... It is an inalienable fact that Lindbergh has a world of common sense.

The first item on the Lindbergh "retirement" program was to start out over his oldtime mail route for Chicago to transport 100,000 letters which curio collectors and the U. S. Post Office Department wanted to be sure had been "carried by Lindbergh." The sub-zero weather gave Col. Lindbergh's borrowed plane an oil leak near Springfield, 111. He returned to St. Louis in the next mail plane that came along and after dark set out again for Chicago, with three mail-fliers for company, in another borrowed "ship." This plane's lights failed, but not Col. Lindbergh's common sense. He descended, dined, went to bed.

"Me Too." A movement was afoot, quietly approved by President Coolidge and Secretary Mellon, to coin 40 million Lindbergh half-dollars. But the spirit of Me-Too moved within the breast of Representative William P. Holaday (Illinois). He suggested that another special coin be minted, too, to honor the late Joseph Gurney ("Uncle Joe") Cannon of Illinois, long (1903-11) Speaker of the House. Perceiving that the precedent would only lead to trouble, Secretary Mellon last week regretfully notified Congress that there could be no Lindbergh coins.

/-Since last May Lindbergh has flown 42,295 miles in the Spirit of St Louis: San Diego to New York, 2,500 mi.; New York to Paris, 3,625 mi.; short flights in Europe, 430 mi.; flights in U. S. A., 26,350 mi.; Washington to Mexico, Central and South America, the West Indies and return to St. Louis, 9,390 mi.