Now, All That I Feared Would Happen

Science, Freedom, Beauty, Adventure: What More Could You Ask Of Life? Aviation Combined All The Elements I Loved. There Was Science In Each Curve Of An Airfoil, In Each Angle Between Strut And Wire, In The Gap Of A Spark Plug Or The Color Of The Exhaust Flame. There Was Freedom In The Unlimited Horizon, On The Open Fields Where One Landed. A Pilot Was Surrounded By Beauty Of Earth And Sky. He Brushed Treetops With The Birds, Leapt Valleys And Rivers, Explored The Cloud Canyons He Had Gazed At As A Child. Adventure Lay In Each Puff Of Wind.

The Idea Of Racial Inferiority Or Superiority Is Foreign To Me. I Can't Feel Inferior Or Superior To Another Man Because Of Race, Or In Any Way Antagonistic To Him. I Judge By The Individual, Not By His Race, And Have Always Done So. I Would Rather Have One Of My Children Marry Into A Good Family Of Any Race Than Into A Bad Family Of Any Other Race.

The Life Of An Aviator Seemed To Me Ideal. It Involved Skill. It Brought Adventure. It Made Use Of The Latest Developments Of Science. Mechanical Engineers Were Fettered To Factories And Drafting Boards While Pilots Have The Freedom Of Wind With The Expanse Of Sky. There Were Times In An Aeroplane When It Seemed I Had Escaped Mortality To Look Down On Earth Like A God.

Aviation Seems Almost A Gift From Heaven To Those Western Nations Who Were Already The Leaders Of Their Era, Strengthening Their Leadership, Their Confidence, Their Dominance Over Other Peoples.

Alone? Is He Alone At Whose Right Side Rides Courage, With Skill Within The Cockpit And Faith Upon The Left? Does Solitude Surround The Brave When Adventure Leads The Way And Ambition Reads The Dials? Is There No Company With Him, For Whom The Air Is Cleft By Daring And The Darkness Made Light By Emprise?