Aeronautics: Lindberghs

Mrs. Elizabeth Reeve Cutter Morrow hung up the telephone in her Englewood, N. J. home one evening last week and sat down with an anxious smile. She had just heard a man in the Manhattan office of Pan American Airways read her the following message: "DEPARTED BATHURST 0202 GREENWICH EVERYTHING OK KHCAL"

From time to time during the night and the next forenoon Mrs. Morrow heard other excerpts from messages which reached Pan American nearly every 15 minutes:

"PAN AMERICAN BAHIA 1217 N 1750 W 224 TRUE OK KHCAL"

"SKIES EIGHT TENTHS OVERCAST WITH SCATTERED SQUALLS AND VISIBILITY LIMITED TO THREE MILES"

"FLYING UP THROUGH CLOUDS ALL OKAY"

". . . COURSE 224 DEGREES TRUE NINE TENTHS OVERCAST AT 1,000 FREQUENT SQUALLS WIND ZERO"

"1400 GMT 0100 S 3010 W MAKING 100 KNOTS 226 TRUE COURSE . . . SEA LIGHT VISIBILITY UNLIMITED"

"REELING IN"

A few hours after the final message, Mrs. Morrow went to the International Institute in Manhattan to deliver a speech about Mexico. Almost bursting with pride, she began: "As you know, my children, Anne and Charles Lindbergh, have just flown across the South Atlantic. I'm on top of the wave. At a time of such great happiness, it is a wonderful thing to be among old friends, and I know you will forgive me if my tongue slips for joy."

Mrs. Morrow did not need to tell her audience what all the world knew—that the crisply professional wireless messages from the plane had been tapped out by her daughter.* From Natal, Brazil, where they had ended their 1,875-mi. hop from West Africa, Mrs. Morrow's adventurous children flew up the Brazilian coast to Para, thence 900 mi. up the Amazon above lush jungle to Manaos. They proposed to be home in time to spend Christmas with their son Jon whom they had not seen since they left the U. S. last July.

Chief of Airway

A tall, strapping young man in double-breasted suit and soft grey shirt strode from one Department of Commerce conference room to another last week like a chess champion playing five games at once. Secretaries waylaid him. Callers with briefcases plucked at his sleeve. At sight of a new caller the young man's wide mouth widened into a grin. The visitor was also tall, bronzed, handsome. From under his snap-brim hat he regarded his host quizzically as he asked: "How goes it, Gene?"

The young man countered ruefully: "Want to trade places, Colonel?"

The Colonel laughed, replied: "Not by a damn sight. I've a job that will keep me in Florida this winter."

The caller was Col. Clarence Marshall Young, onetime (1929-33) Assistant Secretary of Commerce for Aeronautics, now working temporarily for Tycoon Henry Latham Doherty as aviation chairman of his Florida Year-Round Clubs. Flying from Florida to New York last week he paused in Washington long enough to go to the bustling Department of Commerce building and shake hands with his successor, Eugene Luther Vidal.