Harmon Museum

You probably know me as the first person to fly across the Atlantic Ocean alone. You may know me as "the Lone Eagle." And, of course, you might know me as "Lucky Lindy." The story I'm about to tell you pertains to the "Lucky Lindy" nickname. You might say that if I had my druthers, I'd rather be "Lucky" than good. 

The story starts out well. It begins on Tuesday, July 20, 1927. I started the Spirit of St. Louis on a cross-country flying tour from Mitchell Field on Long Island, New York, to publicize the Daniel Guggenheim Fund for the Promotion of Aeronautics. This tour was to take about two-hundred sixty hours of flight time, covering about 22,000 miles of America. I was slated to visit all forty-eight states at that time, be seen by about 30,000,000 people who would come out to see parades on routes that would eventually cover about 1,300 miles, and give 147 speeches. My goal was to complete my trip back on Long Island on October 23, 1927. On July 23rd, I had reached Concord, New Hampshire, by way of Lynn and Lowell, Massachusetts. I had also stopped at Nashua, New Hampshire. The next day, I was heading to the Portland airport, which, in reality, was just a dirt landing strip on the north edge of the Scarborough Marsh, just off U.S. Route One. There was thick fog obscuring the ground. Not a good thing for the "Spirit of St. Louis."

You see, the Spirit was a quite heavy flying machine. It weighed 2,150 pounds. But it had extra fuel tanks to allow it to cover a maximum of 4,000 miles. Even so, it used a lot of fuel in its 220-horsepower, 9-cylinder engine. One of these tanks was in front of the pilot's seat, causing a visibility problem for me. I couldn't see straight ahead. I had to use a periscope attached to the plane's left side just to look forward. To compensate for any extra weight, I left behind fuel gauges, a radio, a parachute, navigation lights, and a heavy leather pilot's seat. I used a wicker chair as my seat. 

I had to make other plans "on the fly," if you will. I made the sensible decision to return to Concord. On July 24th, I tried my luck again. Don't you know it that fog was still obscuring the Portland Airport! Time to find another place to land.

Over in Old Orchard Beach, my friend Captain Harry Jones had established a "Flying School" and landing strip on the beach itself. It was right along East Grand Avenue, about a mile outside of downtown Old Orchard Beach. The Flying School is long gone, having succumbed to the infamous "Hurricane of September 1938." Today you'll find the Friendship Motel occupying the site. I decided to head there, given that the old Spirit was drinking more fuel.

Here's where the "Lucky" part comes in. If you're going to land an airplane on a beach, it had better be low tide. And...there'd better be good weather! As luck would have it, Mother Nature was smiling on me. Tide's out, fog's thin, Lucky Lindy again! Safely on terra firma, I was greeted by a small crowd and several police officers. Just to be safe, two Old Orchard Beach police officers were hired to keep watch on the Spirit. We couldn't take a chance that souvenir hunters might to take some of the plane's cloth skin for themselves. A Maine State Trooper ushered me to his car and off we went to Portland's Eastland hotel. I had a nice dinner, gave a short speech, and went to bed.

The next morning, Sunday, July 25th, I was escorted back to Old Orchard Beach, where I found that a crowd had indeed gathered at Jones's Flying School. I don't know if they came to see me or the "Spirit of St. Louis." Time to go. However, it seemed that no one wanted to let me leave. They wouldn't get out of the way so I could take off. I grabbed a megaphone and hollered at folks to get of my way. They still didn't want to listen. I took megaphone and threw it into the crowd. I cranked the propeller, it started up, then the crowd moved back. Lucky for me again—the weather was good and tide was low as I headed down the hard-packed sand and lifted off at 11:45 a.m. I swung over Portland a bit, then headed to my next stop at Concord, New Hampshire.

And here we are in the summer of 2017, remembering and celebrating ninety years since that July 24th day in 1927 when "Lucky Lindy" landed at Old Orchard Beach, Maine!