The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1928-05-24
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= SPARKS FROM AN =
= OAKLAND PULPIT =
LINDBERGH.

LlNDDEINLh IL.
One year ago a heavily loaded mon
| oplane climbed into the air from
Roosevelt Field, near New York City.
In the cockpit of the plane was a tall,
slender youth, with clean face, serious
eyes and mouth that just irresistibly
| turned up at the corners. With une1-
ring skill he swung his ship into the
northeast, across New England, over
Cape Cod, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland
and out over the Atlantic, while fish
ermen, in their tiny boats and passer-
gers on palatial liners, gaped with
amazement at this "Flying Fool" haz-
arding his life in a reckless effort to
bridge the vast ocean which had only
few days before swallowed up two gal.
liant French aviators who had at
tempted the hop from east to west.
On and on, with roaring motor. -.
into the gathering twilight .. into
the blackness of night. :. . into the
thickening fog from which, every now
and then, lurking iceberg would
suddenly leap toward him like a stu
pendous white ghost from it's hiding
place. -. on and on, sped this great,
great grandson of Lief the Lucky and
Eric the Red, this Viking adventurer
of the air, this youthful dreamer of
dream, this seer of visions, this
prophet of the future, with the cour-
age of giant and the unstained heart
of little child.
At that moment, back in the tired,
sorded, snarling city from which he
had launched, a crowd of fifty thous-
and people were gathered in baseball
park to watch a prize fight. What
strange impulse it was that moved
the "hard- boiled" referee to shout a
word through his megaphone to that
''hard- boiled" audience, word which
quoted the growing crowd which
brought them to their feet, where they
stood with barred heads, in hushed rev.
erence, silently praying that God
would bring the lonely fier safely to
his goal?
At that same moment, a mother was
keeping her sleepless vigil. She was
in Detroit but her heart was out over
the pitiless ocean wastes, and her
prayers were at the throne of grace,
pleading that the Heavenly Father
would send His winged angels to ac-
company her winged boy to the jour
ney's end.
Indeed, the anxious thoughts, the
wistful hopes, the earnest petitions
of two continents, of all humanity,
were unitel that night in one spiritual
stream as perhaps never before in
history.
Meanwhile the solitary object of all
these hopes and fears and anxious
prayers winged his swift way on and
on, the Spirit of Youth, challenging
danger, laughing at death, pursuing
an ideal.
Surrounded by so great cloud of
witnesses urging him on, this modern
Sir Galahad of America whose life is
as clean as the sunlight, whose
strength is as the strength of ten
because his heart is pure" continued
to run with patience the race which
was set before him.
His goal was not tthe applause of
an admiring world, or the wealth o.
mammon, but the triumph of his ideal.
His triumph proved to be far more
colossal than he had anticipated. It
was more the triumph of science ovec
the elements. 1t was more the tri-
umph of faith over fear. 1t was also
the triumph of international friend
ship over national rivalries and racial
hatreds. And it was the triumph of
the old-fashioned virtues of clean liv-
ing, clean thinking, fair play and
sportsmanship, modesty of speech and
manner and faith in a mothers pray
ers over the cynical disbelief, the sor-
did greed, the vain self-seeking and