Evening star., 1937-03-21
Reporter Learns That
Two of Amelia's
Crew Had Kneel-
ing Room Only.
Noonan and Man.
ming Supplied With
Air Cushions. Her
Curls Are Cut
Short.

the steadfast will of a woman. Amelia
is once more a-wing
I ET'S cast back week to a day of
sun and the golden light that
California loves to call its own. Noun
tains in the background, half-circle
of rough-sloped brown-hued, near
remote majesty, ringing the broad
airport at Burbank. The semi-tropical
atmosphere is fair forerunner of
what lies ahead for the woman stand
ing by the plane she always hoped to
have-and now has achieved.
There is a mo Admission" sign on
the gate of the wire fence surrounding
the hangar. But there are no guards
other than that warning sign, and
continuously, all day long, hesitantly,
but with that movie trained persistence
Of the Southwest, crowds of men,
women and children drift through
and come as near as they dare to the
loW-Winged orange and silver ship
with its knot of intent workers.
There are occasional forays as the
tousel-headed figure who has drawn
them as iron filings to a magnet,
emerges from that knot at the in
Slstent demands of the photographers
who line the sides of the open building.
The sound and film trucks line it
from morning until night When the
monoplane clears path for itself and
scars up for one more test of instru-
ments or gas tanks, they break into
feverish activity. When it returns to
the ground, they settle back into i'm
mobile waiting.
Miss Earhart has the tremendous
gift Of patience. With her great trip
through the heavens at stake. with the
possibility of a desperate lone safari
through jungle terrors, armed only
with a waterproof match box, land
compass, knife and an ak, before
her If she loses her wings over long
part of the land route, or an equally
desperate vigil in a rubber boat, with
Very lights and 6-foot orange kite
to guide rescuers in the fiat immensity
of Pacific reaches, if they fail her over
water, she turns smiling face, with
out complaint, to the demands of
those who want another picture.
please" Her mechanics rage at the
interruptions-she smiles, poses with
perfect courtesy and a complete lack
of self-consciousness, and the next
moment is deep again in the problem
under consideration.
HERE is a unique human being.
One of those who may, without
exaggeration, discounting the bally-
hoo that inevitably surrounds any
spectacular accomplishment these
days, be called great. Under the sur
face, in this slim womans figure, there
lives spirit that is clear courage
sheer unshaken determination to reach
fixed goal. Behind deep-set blue
eyes is mind that knows no limits
of sex in its ability to see vision and
think it through in the cold light Of
reality. And a stubborn. attractive
chin adds to the total that means
trail blazing, no matter what the
obstacles
Her husband, tall George Putnam,
business manager for her flights.
clears the way so that she may have
lunch and I may have an uninter-
rupted talk with her. We go along
the non-dividing wire fence into the
airport restaurant. Amelia walks
quietly, with no outward evidence
that she feels the pointing fingers
and the eXClamationS of There she
is" from the people she passes. At
the table, she orders tomato Juice,
consomme, broiled lobster, and settles
back to answer questions.
I ask her the one that has been
uppermost in my mind ever since
first hearing her plan to drop Capt
Harry Manning, her famous navigator,
at Darwin, Australia, and fly the
ensuing 10000 miles of land and ocean
alone! There is something rather
dreadful about the thought of that
gallant little, brown-clad pilot staring
hour after hour out Of her cockpit
windows, while the earth revolyes
beneath the keel of her ship and she
feels the weight of the miles still
ahead pile up. There will be no one
to counsel with then, no one to pass
friendly word to, no one to fill the
aching human need under stress con-
ditions for normal human companion
ship.
"As simple problem in psychology,
Miss Earhart," 1 ask her, isn't there
real danger in accumulated fatigue
from the constant loneliness that YOU
CONTINUED on Second Page.)