Charles Lindbergh

Charles A. Lindbergh and his father, c. 1910

Lindbergh was born in Detroit, Michigan, on February 4, 1902, and spent most of his childhood in Little Falls, Minnesota, and Washington, D.C. He was the only child of Charles August Lindbergh (birth name Carl Månsson; 1859–1924), who had emigrated from Sweden to Melrose, Minnesota, as an infant, and Evangeline Lodge Land Lindbergh (1876–1954) of Detroit. Lindbergh had three elder paternal half-sisters: Lillian, Edith, and Eva. The couple separated in 1909 when Lindbergh was seven years old.[14][15] His father, a U.S. Congressman (R-MN-6) from 1907 to 1917, was one of the few congressmen to oppose the entry of the U.S. into World War I (although his congressional term ended one month before the House of Representatives voted to declare war on Germany).[16] His father's book Why Is Your Country at War?, which criticized the nation's entry into the war, was seized by federal agents under the Comstock Act. It was later posthumously reprinted and issued in 1934 under the title Your Country at War, and What Happens to You After a War.[17]

Lindbergh's mother was a chemistry teacher at Cass Technical High School in Detroit and later at Little Falls High School, from which her son graduated on June 5, 1918. Lindbergh attended more than a dozen other schools from Washington, D.C., to California during his childhood and teenage years (none for more than a year or two), including the Force School and Sidwell Friends School while living in Washington with his father, and Redondo Union High School in Redondo Beach, California, while living there with his mother.[18] Although he enrolled in the College of Engineering at the University of Wisconsin–Madison in late 1920, Lindbergh dropped out in the middle of his sophomore year and then went to Lincoln, Nebraska, in March 1922 to begin flight training.[19]

From an early age, Lindbergh had exhibited an interest in the mechanics of motorized transportation, including his family's Saxon Six automobile, and later his Excelsior motorbike. By the time that he started college as a mechanical engineering student, he had also become fascinated with flying, though he "had never been close enough to a plane to touch it".[20] After quitting college in February 1922, Lindbergh enrolled at the Nebraska Aircraft Corporation's flying school in Lincoln and flew for the first time on April 9 as a passenger in a two-seat Lincoln Standard "Tourabout" biplane trainer piloted by Otto Timm.[21]

A few days later, Lindbergh took his first formal flying lesson in that same aircraft, though he was never permitted to solo because he could not afford to post the requisite damage bond.[22] To gain flight experience and earn money for further instruction, Lindbergh left Lincoln in June to spend the next few months barnstorming across Nebraska, Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana as a wing walker and parachutist. He also briefly worked as an airplane mechanic at the Billings, Montana, municipal airport.[23][24]

"Daredevil Lindbergh" in a re-engined Standard J-1, c. 1925. The plane in this photo is often misidentified as a Curtiss "Jenny".

Lindbergh left flying with the onset of winter and returned to his father's home in Minnesota.[25] His return to the air and his first solo flight did not come until half a year later in May 1923 at Souther Field in Americus, Georgia, a former Army flight-training field, where he bought a World War I surplus Curtiss JN-4 "Jenny" biplane. Though Lindbergh had not touched an airplane in more than six months, he had already secretly decided that he was ready to take to the air by himself. After a half-hour of dual time with a pilot who was visiting the field to pick up another surplus JN-4, Lindbergh flew solo for the first time in the Jenny that he had just purchased for $500.[26][27] After spending another week or so at the field to "practice" (thereby acquiring five hours of "pilot in command" time), Lindbergh took off from Americus for Montgomery, Alabama, some 140 miles (230 km) to the west, for his first solo cross-country flight.[28] He went on to spend much of the remainder of 1923 engaged in almost nonstop barnstorming under the name of "Daredevil Lindbergh". Unlike in the previous year, this time Lindbergh flew in his "own ship" as the pilot.[29][30] A few weeks after leaving Americus, he achieved another key aviation milestone when he made his first night flight near Lake Village, Arkansas.[31]

Lindbergh as a young 2nd Lt., March 1925

While Lindbergh was barnstorming in Lone Rock, Wisconsin, on two occasions he flew a local physician across the Wisconsin River to emergency calls that were otherwise unreachable because of flooding.[32] He broke his propeller several times while landing, and on June 3, 1923 he was grounded for a week when he ran into a ditch in Glencoe, Minnesota, while flying his father—then running for the U.S. Senate—to a campaign stop. In October, Lindbergh flew his Jenny to Iowa, where he sold it to a flying student. After selling the Jenny, Lindbergh returned to Lincoln by train. There, he joined Leon Klink and continued to barnstorm through the South for the next few months in Klink's Curtiss JN-4C "Canuck" (the Canadian version of the Jenny). Lindbergh also "cracked up" this aircraft once when his engine failed shortly after takeoff in Pensacola, Florida, but again he managed to repair the damage himself.[33]

Following a few months of barnstorming through the South, the two pilots parted company in San Antonio, Texas, where Lindbergh reported to Brooks Field on March 19, 1924 to begin a year of military flight training with the United States Army Air Service there (and later at nearby Kelly Field).[34] Lindbergh had his most serious flying accident on March 5, 1925, eight days before graduation, when a mid-air collision with another Army S.E.5 during aerial combat maneuvers forced him to bail out.[35] Only 18 of the 104 cadets who started flight training a year earlier remained when Lindbergh graduated first overall in his class in March 1925, thereby earning his Army pilot's wings and a commission as a second lieutenant in the Air Service Reserve Corps.[36][N 2]

Lindbergh later said that this year was critical to his development as both a focused, goal-oriented individual and as an aviator.[N 3] The Army did not need additional active-duty pilots, however, so immediately following graduation, Lindbergh returned to civilian aviation as a barnstormer and flight instructor, although as a reserve officer he also continued to do some part-time military flying by joining the 110th Observation Squadron, 35th Division, Missouri National Guard, in St. Louis. He was promoted to first lieutenant on December 7, 1925, and to captain in July 1926.[39]

"Certificate of the Oath of Mail Messengers", executed by Lindbergh

In October 1925, Lindbergh was hired by the Robertson Aircraft Corporation (RAC) at the Lambert-St. Louis Flying Field in Anglum, Missouri, (where he had been working as a flight instructor) to first lay out and then serve as chief pilot for the newly designated 278-mile (447 km) Contract Air Mail Route #2 (CAM-2) to provide service between St. Louis and Chicago (Maywood Field) with two intermediate stops in Springfield and Peoria, Illinois.[40] Lindbergh and three other RAC pilots, Philip R. Love, Thomas P. Nelson, and Harlan A. "Bud" Gurney, flew the mail over CAM-2 in a fleet of four modified war-surplus de Havilland DH-4 biplanes.

Just before signing on to fly with CAM, Lindbergh had applied to serve as a pilot on Richard E. Byrd's North Pole expedition, but apparently his bid came too late.[41]

On April 13, 1926, Lindbergh executed the United States Post Office Department's Oath of Mail Messengers,[42] and two days later he opened service on the new route. On two occasions, combinations of bad weather, equipment failure, and fuel exhaustion forced him to bail out on night approach to Chicago;[43][44] both times he reached the ground without serious injury and immediately set about ensuring that his cargo was located and sent on with minimum delay.[44][45] In mid-February 1927 he left for San Diego, California, to oversee design and construction of the Spirit of St. Louis.[46]

CAM-2 first flight cover

A CAM-2 "Weekly Postage Report" by Lindbergh

One of Lindbergh's Air Mail paychecks

In 1919, British aviators John Alcock and Arthur Brown won the Daily Mail prize for the first nonstop transatlantic flight. Their aircraft was a Vickers Vimy IV biplane designed for service in WW1. Alcock and Brown left St. John's, Newfoundland, on June 14, 1919, and arrived in Clifden, County Galway, Ireland the following day.[47]

Around the same time, French-born New York hotelier Raymond Orteig was approached by Augustus Post, secretary of the Aero Club of America, and prompted to put up a $25,000 award for the first successful nonstop transatlantic flight specifically between New York City and Paris (in either direction) within five years after its establishment. When that time limit lapsed in 1924 without a serious attempt, Orteig renewed the offer for another five years, this time attracting a number of well-known, highly experienced, and well-financed contenders[48]‍—‌none of whom was successful. On September 21, 1926, World War I French flying ace René Fonck's Sikorsky S-35 crashed on takeoff from Roosevelt Field in New York. U.S. Naval aviators Noel Davis and Stanton H. Wooster were killed at Langley Field, Virginia, on April 26, 1927, while testing their Keystone Pathfinder. On May 8 French war heroes Charles Nungesser and François Coli departed Paris – Le Bourget Airport in the Levasseur PL 8 seaplane L'Oiseau Blanc; they disappeared somewhere in the Atlantic after last being seen crossing the west coast of Ireland.[49]

American air racer Clarence D. Chamberlin and Arctic explorer Richard E. Byrd were also in the race.[50][51]

The Spirit of St. Louis

Financing the operation of the historic flight was a challenge due to Lindbergh's obscurity, but two St. Louis businessmen eventually obtained a $15,000 bank loan. Lindbergh contributed $2,000 ($33,536 in 2023)[52] of his own money from his salary as an air mail pilot and another $1,000 was donated by RAC. The total of $18,000 was far less than what was available to Lindbergh's rivals.[53]

The group tried to buy an "off-the-peg" single or multiengine monoplane from Wright Aeronautical, then Travel Air, and finally the newly formed Columbia Aircraft Corporation, but all insisted on selecting the pilot as a condition of sale.[54][55][56] Finally the much smaller Ryan Aircraft Company of San Diego agreed to design and build a custom monoplane for $10,580, and on February 25 a deal was formally closed.[57] Dubbed the Spirit of St. Louis, the fabric-covered, single-seat, single-engine "Ryan NYP" (for "New York-Paris") high-wing monoplane (CAB registration: N-X-211) was designed jointly by Lindbergh and Ryan's chief engineer Donald A. Hall.[58] The Spirit flew for the first time just two months later, and after a series of test flights Lindbergh took off from San Diego on May 10. He went first to St. Louis, then on to Roosevelt Field on New York's Long Island.[59]

Lindbergh with the Spirit of St. Louis prior to his flight

In the early morning of Friday, May 20, 1927, Lindbergh took off from Roosevelt Field on Long Island.[60][61] His destination, Le Bourget Aerodrome, was about seven miles outside Paris and 3,610 miles[62] from his starting point. He was "too busy the night before to lie down for more than a couple of hours," and "had been unable [to] sleep."[63] It rained the morning of his takeoff, but as the plane "was wheeled into position on the runway," the rain ceased and light began to break through the "low-hanging clouds."[63] A crowd variously described as "nearly a thousand"[64] or "several thousand" assembled to see Lindbergh off, and he "walked around the plane on a final tour of inspection" after stepping from a "closed car where he had waited."[63] For its transatlantic flight, the Spirit was loaded with 450 U.S. gallons (1,700 liters) of fuel that was filtered repeatedly to avoid fuel line blockage. The fuel load was a thousand pounds heavier than any the Spirit had lifted during a test flight, and the fully loaded airplane weighed 5,200 lbs.,[65][66] or 2.7 short tons (2,400 kg). With takeoff hampered by a muddy, rain-soaked runway, the plane was "helped by men pushing at the wing struts," with the last man leaving the wings only a hundred yards down the runway.[63] Lindbergh's monoplane was powered by a J-5C Wright Whirlwind radial engine and gained speed very slowly during its 7:52 AM takeoff, but cleared telephone lines at the far end of the field "by about twenty feet [six meters] with a fair reserve of flying speed".[67]

Crowd assembled at Roosevelt Field to witness Lindbergh's departure

At 8:52 AM, an hour after takeoff, Lindbergh was flying at an altitude of 500 feet (150 m) over Rhode Island, following an uneventful passage‍—‌aside from some turbulence‍—‌over Long Island Sound and Connecticut.[68] By 9:52 AM, he had passed Boston and was flying with Cape Cod to his right, with an airspeed of 107 mph and altitude of 150 ft; about an hour later he began to feel tired, even though only a few hours had elapsed since takeoff. To keep his mind clear, Lindbergh descended and flew at only 10 feet above the water's surface.[69] By around 11:52 AM, he had climbed to an altitude of 200 feet, and at this point was 400 miles distant from New York.[69] Nova Scotia appeared ahead and, after flying over the Gulf of Maine, he was only "six miles, or 2 degrees, off course."[68] At 3:52 PM, the eastern coast of Cape Breton Island was below; he struggled to stay awake, even though it was "only the afternoon of the first day."[68] At 5:52 PM, he was flying along the Newfoundland coast, and passed St. John's at 7:15 PM.[69][70] On its May 21 front page, The New York Times ran a special cable from the prior evening: "Captain Lindbergh's airplane passed over St. John's at 8:15 o'clock tonight [7:15 New York Daylight Saving Time]...was seen by hundreds and disappeared seaward, heading for Ireland...It was flying quite low between the hills near St. John's."[71] The Times also observed that Lindbergh was "following the track of Hawker and Greeve and also of Alcock and Brown on the first transatlantic flight eight years ago."[71]

Map of Lindbergh's route on the May 21, 1927, front page of the San Diego Evening Tribune, by artist Wallace Hamilton

Great circle sailing chart of the North Atlantic with gnomonic projection, published by the U.S. Hydrographic Office and annotated by Lindbergh. He described this chart as a "nugget of gold,"[72] and used it to plot the course of his 1927 flight

Stars appeared as night fell around 8 PM. The sea became totally obscured by fog, prompting Lindbergh to climb "from an altitude of 800 ft to 7500 ft to stay above the quickly-rising cloud."[69] An hour later, he was flying at 10,000 feet. A towering thunderhead stood in front of him, and he flew into the cloud, but turned back after he noticed ice forming on the plane.[69] While inside the cloud, Lindbergh "thrust a bare hand through the cockpit window," and felt the "sting of ice particles."[63] After returning to open sky, he "curved back to his course."[63] At 11:52 PM, Lindbergh was in warmer air, and no ice remained on the Spirit; he was flying 90 mph at 10,000 ft, and was 500 miles from Newfoundland.[68] Eighteen hours into the flight, he was halfway to Paris, and while he had planned to celebrate at this point, he instead felt "only dread."[69] Because Lindbergh flew through several time zones, dawn came earlier, at around 2:52 AM.[68] He began to hallucinate about two hours later.[68] At this point in the flight, he "continually" fell asleep, awakening "seconds, possibly minutes, later."[69] But after "flying for hours in or above the fog," the weather finally began to clear. 7:52 AM marked twenty-four hours in the air for Lindbergh and, fortunately, he did not feel as tired by this point.[69]

Finally, at around 9:52 AM New York time, or twenty-seven hours after he left Roosevelt Field, Lindbergh saw "porpoises and fishing boats," a sign he had reached the other side of the Atlantic.[68][73] He circled and flew closely, but no fishermen appeared on the boat decks, although he did see a face watching from a porthole.[68][63] Dingle Bay, in County Kerry of southwest Ireland, was the first European land that Lindbergh encountered; he veered to get a better look and consulted his charts, identifying it as the southern tip of Ireland.[74][70][68] The local time in Ireland was 3 PM.[69] Flying over Dingle Bay, the Spirit was "2.5 hours ahead of schedule and less than three miles off course."[69] Lindbergh had navigated "almost precisely to the coastal point he had marked on his chart."[63] He wanted to reach the French coast in daylight, so increased his speed to 110 mph.[69] The English coast appeared ahead of him, and he was "now wide awake."[68] A report came from Plymouth, on the English coast, that Lindbergh's plane had started across the English Channel.[63] News soon spread across both "Europe and the United States that Lindbergh had been spotted over England," and a crowd started to form at Le Bourget Aerodrome as he neared Paris.[73] At sunset, he flew over Cherbourg, on the French coast 200 miles from Paris; it was around 2:52 PM New York time.[69][68]

Over the 33+1⁄2 hours of his flight, Lindbergh faced many challenges, which included skimming over storm clouds at 10,000 ft (3,000 m) and wave tops at as low as 10 ft (3.0 m). The aircraft fought icing, flew blind through fog for several hours, and Lindbergh navigated only by dead reckoning (he was not proficient at navigating by the sun and stars and he rejected radio navigation gear as heavy and unreliable). He was fortunate that the winds over the Atlantic cancelled each other out, giving him zero wind drift—and thus accurate navigation during the long flight over featureless ocean.[75][76]

On arriving at Paris, Lindbergh "circled the Eiffel Tower" before flying to the airfield.[62] He flew over the crowd at Le Bourget Aerodrome at 10:16 and landed at 10:22 PM on Saturday, May 21, on the far side of the field and "nearly half a mile from the crowd," as reported by The New York Times.[77][78][79] The airfield was not marked on his map and Lindbergh knew only that it was some seven miles northeast of the city; he initially mistook it for some large industrial complex because of the bright lights spreading out in all directions‍—‌in fact the headlights of tens of thousands of spectators' cars caught in "the largest traffic jam in Paris history" in their attempt to be present for Lindbergh's landing.[80]

Samples of the Spirit's linen covering

A crowd estimated at 150,000 stormed the field, dragged Lindbergh out of the cockpit, and carried him around above their heads for "nearly half an hour."[81] Among the crowd were two future Indian prime ministers, Jawaharlal Nehru and his daughter, Indira Gandhi.[82] Some minor damage was done to the Spirit (especially to the fine linen, silver-painted fabric covering on the fuselage) by souvenir hunters before pilot and plane reached the safety of a nearby hangar with the aid of French military fliers, soldiers, and police.[81] The Times reported that before the police could intervene the "souvenir mad" spectators "stripped the plane of everything which could be taken off," and were cutting off pieces of linen when "a squad of soldiers with fixed bayonets quickly surrounded" the plane, providing guard as it was "wheeled into a shed."[79] Lindbergh met the U.S. Ambassador to France, Myron T. Herrick, across Le Bourget field in a "little room with a few chairs and an army cot."[83] The lights in the room were turned off to conceal his presence from the frenzied crowd, which "surged madly" trying to find him. Lindbergh shook hands with Herrick and handed him several letters he had carried across the Atlantic, three of which were from Col. Theodore Roosevelt Jr., son of former President Theodore Roosevelt, who had written letters of introduction at Lindbergh's request.[84][83] Lindbergh left the airfield around midnight and was driven through Paris to the ambassador's residence, stopping to visit the French Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Arc de Triomphe;[83] he finally arrived at the residence, where he slept for the first time in about 60 hours.[79][73][69]

Lindbergh's flight was certified by the National Aeronautic Association of the United States based on the readings from a sealed barograph placed in the Spirit.[85][86]

"WE" 1st Edition, 1927

Barely two months after Lindbergh arrived in Paris, G. P. Putnam's Sons published his 318-page autobiography "WE", which was the first of 15 books he eventually wrote or to which he made significant contributions. The company was run by aviation enthusiast George P. Putnam.[124] The dustjacket notes said that Lindbergh wanted to share the "story of his life and his transatlantic flight together with his views on the future of aviation", and that "WE" referred to the "spiritual partnership" that had developed "between himself and his airplane during the dark hours of his flight".[125][126] However, as Berg wrote in 1998, Putnam's chose the title without "Lindbergh's knowledge or approval," and Lindbergh would "forever complain about it, that his use of 'we' meant him and his backers, not him and his plane, as the press had people believing"; nonetheless, as Berg remarked, "his frequent unconscious use of the phrase suggested otherwise."[127]

Putnam's sold special autographed copies of the book for $25 each, all of which were purchased before publication.[127] "WE" was soon translated into most major languages and sold more than 650,000 copies in the first year, earning Lindbergh more than $250,000. Its success was considerably aided by Lindbergh's three-month, 22,350-mile (35,970 km) tour of the United States in the Spirit on behalf of the Daniel Guggenheim Fund for the Promotion of Aeronautics. Between July 20 and October 23, 1927, Lindbergh visited 82 cities in all 48 states, delivered 147 speeches, rode 1,290 mi (2,080 km) in parades,[128][N 4] and was seen by more than 30 million Americans, one quarter of the nation's population.[128]

Senator Samuel H. Piles and Colombian President Miguel Abadía Méndez with Lindbergh during his trip to Colombia in 1928 (first, second and third from left respectively).

Lindbergh then toured 16 Latin American countries between December 13, 1927, and February 8, 1928. Dubbed the "Good Will Tour", it included stops in Mexico (where he also met his future wife, Anne, the daughter of U.S. Ambassador Dwight Morrow), Guatemala, British Honduras, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, the Canal Zone, Colombia, Venezuela, St. Thomas, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Haiti, and Cuba, covering 9,390 miles (15,110 km) in just over 116 hours of flight time.[39][129] A year and two days after it had made its first flight, Lindbergh flew the Spirit from St. Louis to Washington, D.C., where it has been on public display at the Smithsonian Institution ever since.[130] Over the previous 367 days, Lindbergh and the Spirit had logged 489 hours 28 minutes of flight time together.[131]

A "Lindbergh boom" in aviation had begun. The volume of mail moving by air increased 50 percent within six months, applications for pilots' licenses tripled, and the number of planes quadrupled.[88]^: 17 President Herbert Hoover appointed Lindbergh to the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics.[132]

Lindbergh and Pan American World Airways head Juan Trippe were interested in developing an air route across Alaska and Siberia to China and Japan. In the summer of 1931, with Trippe's support, Lindbergh and his wife flew from Long Island to Nome, Alaska, and from there to Siberia, Japan and China. The flight was carried out with a Lockheed Model 8 Sirius named Tingmissartoq. The route was not available for commercial service until after World War II, as prewar aircraft lacked the range to fly Alaska to Japan nonstop, and the United States had not officially recognized the Soviet government.[133] In China they volunteered to help in disaster investigation and relief efforts for the Central China flood of 1931.[134] This was later documented in Anne's book North to the Orient.

Lindbergh-autographed USPOD penalty cover with C-10 flown by him over CAM-2

Lindbergh used his world fame to promote air mail service. For example, at the request of Basil L. Rowe, the owner of West Indian Aerial Express (and later Pan Am's chief pilot), in February, 1928, he carried some 3,000 pieces of special souvenir mail between Santo Domingo, R.D.; Port-au-Prince, Haiti; and Havana, Cuba[135]‍—‌the last three stops he and the Spirit made during their 7,800 mi (12,600 km) "Good Will Tour" of Latin America and the Caribbean between December 13, 1927, and February 8, 1928, and the only franked mail pieces that he ever flew in his iconic plane.[136]

Two weeks after his Latin American tour, Lindbergh piloted a series of special flights over his old CAM-2 route on February 20 and February 21. Tens of thousands of self-addressed souvenir covers were sent in from all over the world, so at each stop Lindbergh switched to another of the three planes he and his fellow CAM-2 pilots had used, so it could be said that each cover had been flown by him. The covers were then backstamped and returned to their senders as promotion of the air mail service.[137]

In 1929–1931, Lindbergh carried much smaller numbers of souvenir covers on the first flights over routes in Latin America and the Caribbean, which he had earlier laid out as a consultant to Pan American Airways to be then flown under contract to the Post Office as Foreign Air Mail (FAM) routes 5 and 6.[138]

Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh

In his autobiography, Lindbergh derided pilots he met as womanizing "barnstormers"; he also criticized Army cadets for their "facile" approach to relationships. He wrote that the ideal romance was stable and long-term, with a woman with keen intellect, good health, and strong genes,[139] his "experience in breeding animals on our farm [having taught him] the importance of good heredity".[140]

Anne Morrow Lindbergh (1906–2001) was the daughter of Dwight Morrow, who, as a partner at J.P. Morgan & Co., had acted as financial adviser to Lindbergh. He was also the U.S. Ambassador to Mexico in 1927. Invited by Morrow on a goodwill tour to Mexico along with humorist and actor Will Rogers, Lindbergh met Anne in Mexico City in December 1927.[141]

The couple was married on May 27, 1929, at the Morrow estate in Englewood, New Jersey, where they resided after their marriage before moving to their home in the western part of the state.[142][143] They had six children: Charles Augustus Lindbergh Jr. (1930–1932); Jon Morrow Lindbergh (1932–2021); Land Morrow Lindbergh (b. 1937), who studied anthropology at Stanford University and married Susan Miller in San Diego;[144] Anne Lindbergh (1940–1993); Scott Lindbergh (b. 1942); and Reeve Lindbergh (b. 1945), a writer. Lindbergh taught Anne how to fly, and she accompanied and assisted him in much of his exploring and charting of air routes.

Lindbergh saw his children for only a few months a year. He kept track of each child's infractions (including such things as gum-chewing) and insisted that Anne track every penny of household expenses in account books.[145]

Lindbergh's grandson, aviator Erik Lindbergh (one of 8 children of Jon Lindbergh), has had notable involvement in both the private spaceflight and electric aircraft industries.[146][147]

Lindbergh came to the Monterey Peninsula with his wife in March 1930 to continue innovations in the design and use of gliders. He stayed at Del Monte Lodge in Pebble Beach, to search for sites for launching gliders. He came to the Palo Corona Ranch in Carmel Valley, California, and stayed there as guests at the Sidney Fish home, where he flew a glider from a ridge at the ranch. Eight men towed the glider to the ridge where he soared over the countryside for 10 minutes and brought the plane down 3 miles below the Highlands Inn. Other flights lasted 70 minutes. In 1930, his wife became the first woman to receive a U.S. glider pilot license.[148][149][150][151]

On the evening of March 1, 1932, twenty-month-old Charles Augustus Lindbergh Jr. was abducted from his crib in the Lindberghs' rural home, Highfields, in East Amwell, New Jersey, near the town of Hopewell.[N 5] A man who claimed to be the kidnapper[153] picked up a cash ransom of $50,000 on April 2, part of which was in gold certificates, which were soon to be withdrawn from circulation and would therefore attract attention; the bills' serial numbers were also recorded. On May 12, the child's remains were found in woods not far from the Lindbergh home.[154]

Lindbergh testifying at the Richard Hauptmann trial in 1935. Hauptmann is in half-profile at right.

The case was widely called the "Crime of the Century" and was described by H. L. Mencken as "the biggest story since the Resurrection".[155] In response, Congress passed the so-called "Lindbergh Law", which made kidnapping a federal offense if the victim is taken across state lines or (as in the Lindbergh case) the kidnapper uses "the mail or ... interstate or foreign commerce in committing or in furtherance of the commission of the offense", such as in demanding ransom.[156]

Richard Hauptmann, a 34-year-old German immigrant carpenter, was arrested near his home in the Bronx, New York, on September 19, 1934, after paying for gasoline with one of the ransom bills. $13,760 of the ransom money and other evidence was found in his home. Hauptmann went on trial for kidnapping, murder and extortion on January 2, 1935, in a circus-like atmosphere in Flemington, New Jersey. He was convicted on February 13,[157] sentenced to death, and electrocuted at Trenton State Prison on April 3, 1936.[158]

An intensely private man,[159] Lindbergh became exasperated by the unrelenting public attention in the wake of the kidnapping and Hauptmann trial,[160][161] and was concerned for the safety of his three-year-old second son, Jon.[162][163] Consequently, in the predawn hours of Sunday, December 22, 1935, the family "sailed furtively"[160] from Manhattan for Liverpool,[164] the only three passengers aboard the United States Lines freighter SS American Importer.[N 6] They traveled under assumed names and with diplomatic passports issued through the personal intervention of former U.S. Treasury Secretary Ogden L. Mills.[166]

News of the Lindberghs' "flight to Europe"[160] did not become public until a full day later,[167][168] and even after the identity of their ship became known[161] radiograms addressed to Lindbergh on it were returned as "Addressee not aboard".[160] They arrived in Liverpool on December 31, then departed for South Wales to stay with relatives.[169][170]

Long Barn, the Lindberghs' rented home in England

The family eventually rented "Long Barn" in Sevenoaks Weald, Kent.[171] In 1938, the family (including a third son, Land, born May 1937 in London) moved to Île Illiec, a small four-acre (1.6 ha) island Lindbergh purchased off the Breton coast of France.[172]

Except for a brief visit to the U.S. in December 1937,[173] the Lindberghs lived and traveled extensively around Europe in their personal Miles M.12 Mohawk two person airplane, before returning to the U.S. in April 1939 and settling in a rented seaside estate at Lloyd Neck, Long Island, New York.[174][175] The return was prompted by a personal request by General H. H. ("Hap") Arnold, the chief of the United States Army Air Corps in which Lindbergh was a reserve colonel, for him to accept a temporary return to active duty to help evaluate the Air Corps's readiness for war.[176][177] His duties included evaluating new aircraft types in development, recruitment procedures, and finding a site for a new air force research institute and other potential air bases.[178] Assigned a Curtiss P-36 fighter, he toured various facilities, reporting back to Wilbur Wright Field.[178] Lindbergh's brief four-month tour was also his first period of active military service since his graduation from the Army's Flight School fourteen years earlier in 1925.[174]

In July 1936, shortly before the opening of the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin, American journalist William L. Shirer recorded in his diary: "The Lindberghs are here [in Berlin], and the Nazis, led by Göring, are making a great play for them."

This 1936 visit was the first of several that Lindbergh made at the request of the U.S. military establishment between 1936 and 1938, with the goal of evaluating German aviation.[186] During this visit, the Lufthansa airline held a tea for the Lindberghs, and later invited them for a ride aboard the massive four-engine Junkers G.38 that had been christened Field-Marshal Von Hindenburg. Shirer, who was on the flight, wrote:

Somewhere over Wannsee Lindbergh took the controls himself and treated us to some very steep banks, considering the size of the plane, and other little manoeuvres, which terrified most of the passengers. The talk is that the Lindberghs have been favorably impressed by what the Nazis have shown them. He has shown no enthusiasm for meeting the foreign correspondents, who have a perverse liking for enlightening visitors on the Third Reich, as they see it, and we have not pressed for an interview."[187]

Hanna Reitsch demonstrated the Focke-Wulf Fw 61 helicopter to Lindbergh in 1937,[188]^: 121 and he was the first American to examine Germany's newest bomber, the Junkers Ju 88, and Germany's front-line fighter aircraft, the Messerschmitt Bf 109, which he was allowed to pilot. He said of the Bf 109 that he knew of "no other pursuit plane which combines simplicity of construction with such excellent performance characteristics".[186][189]

There is disagreement on how accurate Lindbergh's reports were, but Cole asserts that the consensus among British and American officials was that they were slightly exaggerated but badly needed.[190] Arthur Krock, the chief of The New York Times's Washington Bureau, wrote in 1939, "When the new flying fleet of the United States begins to take air, among those who will have been responsible for its size, its modernness, and its efficiency is Colonel Charles A. Lindbergh. Informed officials here, in touch with what Colonel Lindbergh has been doing for his country abroad, are authority for this statement, and for the further observation that criticism of any of his activities – in Germany or elsewhere – is as ignorant as it is unfair."[191] General Henry H. Arnold, the only U.S. Air Force general to hold five-star rank, wrote in his autobiography, "Nobody gave us much useful information about Hitler's air force until Lindbergh came home in 1939."[192] Lindbergh also undertook a survey of aviation in the Soviet Union in 1938.[193]

Generalfeldmarschall Göring presenting Colonel Lindbergh with a medal on behalf of Adolf Hitler in October 1938

In 1938, Hugh Wilson, the American ambassador to Germany, hosted a dinner for Lindbergh with Germany's air chief, Generalfeldmarschall Hermann Göring, and three central figures in German aviation: Ernst Heinkel, Adolf Baeumker, and Willy Messerschmitt.[194] At this dinner, Göring presented Lindbergh with the Commander Cross of the Order of the German Eagle. Lindbergh's acceptance became controversial when, only a few weeks after this visit, the Nazi Party carried out the Kristallnacht, a nation-wide anti-Jewish pogrom which is now considered a key inaugurating event of the Holocaust.[195] Lindbergh declined to return the medal, later writing, "It seems to me that the returning of decorations, which were given in times of peace and as a gesture of friendship, can have no constructive effect. If I were to return the German medal, it seems to me that it would be an unnecessary insult. Even if war develops between us, I can see no gain in indulging in a spitting contest before that war begins."[196] Regarding this, Ambassador Wilson later wrote to Lindbergh, "Neither you, nor I, nor any other American present had any previous hint that the presentation would be made. I have always felt that if you refused the decoration, presented under those circumstances, you would have been guilty of a breach of good taste. It would have been an act offensive to a guest of the Ambassador of your country, in the house of the Ambassador."[191]

Lindbergh's reaction to the Kristallnacht was entrusted to his diary: "I do not understand these riots on the part of the Germans", he wrote. "It seems so contrary to their sense of order and intelligence. They have undoubtedly had a difficult 'Jewish problem', but why is it necessary to handle it so unreasonably?"[197] Later though, many would note the careful and orderly fashion in which the Holocaust was carried out, with Jews identified, shipped to concentration camps, and most murdered.[198]

Lindbergh had planned to move to Berlin for the winter of 1938–39. He had provisionally found a house in Wannsee, but after Nazi friends discouraged him from leasing it because it had been formerly owned by Jews,[199] it was recommended that he contact Albert Speer, who said he would build the Lindberghs a house anywhere they wanted. On the advice of his close friend Alexis Carrel, he cancelled the trip.[199]

In 1938, the U.S. Air Attaché in Berlin invited Lindbergh to inspect the rising power of Nazi Germany's Air Force. Impressed by German technology and the apparently-large number of aircraft at their disposal and influenced by the staggering number of deaths from World War I, he opposed U.S. entry into the impending European conflict.[200] In September 1938, he stated to the French cabinet that the Luftwaffe possessed 8,000 aircraft and could produce 1,500 per month. Although this was seven times the actual number determined by the Deuxième Bureau, it influenced France into trying to avoid conflict with Nazi Germany through the Munich Agreement.[201] At the urging of U.S. Ambassador Joseph Kennedy, Lindbergh wrote a secret memo to the British warning that a military response by Britain and France to Hitler's violation of the Munich Agreement would be disastrous; he claimed that France was militarily weak and Britain over-reliant on its navy. He urgently recommended that they strengthen their air power to force Hitler to redirect his aggression against "Asiatic Communism".[190]

Following Hitler's invasion of Czechoslovakia and Poland, Lindbergh opposed sending aid to countries under threat, writing "I do not believe that repealing the arms embargo would assist democracy in Europe" and[200] "If we repeal the arms embargo with the idea of assisting one of the warring sides to overcome the other, then why mislead ourselves by talk of neutrality?"[200] He equated assistance with war profiteering: "To those who argue that we could make a profit and build up our own industry by selling munitions abroad, I reply that we in America have not yet reached a point where we wish to capitalize on the destruction and death of war".[200]

In August 1939, Lindbergh was the first choice of Albert Einstein, whom he met years earlier in New York, to deliver the Einstein–Szilárd letter alerting President Roosevelt about the vast potential of nuclear fission. However, Lindbergh did not respond to Einstein's letter or to Szilard's later letter of September 13. Two days later, Lindbergh gave a nationwide radio address, in which he called for isolationism and indicated some pro-German sympathies and antisemitic insinuations about Jewish ownership of the media, saying "We must ask who owns and influences the newspaper, the news picture, and the radio station, ... If our people know the truth, our country is not likely to enter the war". After that, Szilard stated to Einstein: "Lindbergh is not our man."[202]^: 475

In October 1939, following the outbreak of hostilities between Britain and Germany, and a month after the Canadian declaration of war on Germany, Lindbergh made another nationwide radio address criticizing Canada for drawing the Western Hemisphere "into a European war simply because they prefer the Crown of England" to the independence of the Americas.[203][204] Lindbergh went on to further state his opinion that the entire continent and its surrounding islands needed to be free from the "dictates of European powers".[203][204]

In November 1939, Lindbergh authored a controversial Reader's Digest article in which he deplored the war, but asserted the need for a German assault on the Soviet Union.[190] Lindbergh wrote: "Our civilization depends on peace among Western nations ... and therefore on united strength, for Peace is a virgin who dare not show her face without Strength, her father, for protection".[205][206]

In late 1940, Lindbergh became the spokesman of the isolationist America First Committee,[207] soon speaking to overflow crowds at Madison Square Garden and Chicago's Soldier Field, with millions listening by radio. He argued emphatically that America had no business attacking Germany. Lindbergh justified this stance in writings that were only published posthumously:

I was deeply concerned that the potentially gigantic power of America, guided by uninformed and impractical idealism, might crusade into Europe to destroy Hitler without realizing that Hitler's destruction would lay Europe open to the rape, loot and barbarism of Soviet Russia's forces, causing possibly the fatal wounding of Western civilization.[208]

Lindbergh speaking at an AFC rally

In April 1941, he argued before 30,000 members of the America First Committee that "the British government has one last desperate plan ... to persuade us to send another American Expeditionary Force to Europe and to share with England militarily, as well as financially, the fiasco of this war."[209]

In his 1941 testimony before the House Committee on Foreign Affairs opposing the Lend-Lease bill, Lindbergh proposed that the United States negotiate a neutrality pact with Germany.[210] President Franklin Roosevelt publicly decried Lindbergh's views as those of a "defeatist and appeaser", comparing him to U.S. Rep. Clement L. Vallandigham, who had led the "Copperhead" movement opposed to the American Civil War. Following this, Lindbergh resigned his colonel's commission in the U.S. Army Air Corps Reserve on April 28, 1941, writing that he saw "no honorable alternative" given that Roosevelt had publicly questioned his loyalty; the next day, The New York Times ran an above the fold, front-page article about his resignation.[7]

At an America First rally in September, Lindbergh accused three groups of "pressing this country toward war; the British, the Jewish, and the Roosevelt Administration":[211]

It is not difficult to understand why Jewish people desire the overthrow of Nazi Germany. The persecution they suffered in Germany would be sufficient to make bitter enemies of any race.

No person with a sense of the dignity of mankind can condone the persecution of the Jewish race in Germany. But no person of honesty and vision can look on their pro-war policy here today without seeing the dangers involved in such a policy both for us and for them. Instead of agitating for war, the Jewish groups in this country should be opposing it in every possible way for they will be among the first to feel its consequences.

Tolerance is a virtue that depends upon peace and strength. History shows that it cannot survive war and devastations. A few far-sighted Jewish people realize this and stand opposed to intervention. But the majority still do not.

Their greatest danger to this country lies in their large ownership and influence in our motion pictures, our press, our radio and our government.

[212]

He continued:

I am not attacking either the Jewish or the British people. Both races, I admire. But I am saying that the leaders of both the British and the Jewish races, for reasons which are as understandable from their viewpoint as they are inadvisable from ours, for reasons which are not American, wish to involve us in the war. We cannot blame them for looking out for what they believe to be their own interests, but we also must look out for ours. We cannot allow the natural passions and prejudices of other peoples to lead our country to destruction.[213]

His message was popular throughout many Northern communities and especially well received in the Midwest, while the American South was anglophilic and supported a pro-British foreign policy.[214] The South was the most pro-British and interventionist part of the country.[215] Responding to criticism of his speech,[216] Anne Lindbergh felt that the speech might tarnish Lindbergh's reputation unjustly; she wrote in her diary:

I have the greatest faith in [Lindbergh] as a person‍—‌in his integrity, his courage, and his essential goodness, fairness, and kindness‍—‌his nobility really ... How then explain my profound feeling of grief about what he is doing? If what he said is the truth (and I am inclined to think it is), why was it wrong to state it? He was naming the groups that were pro-war. No one minds his naming the British or the Administration. But to name "Jew" is un-American‍—‌even if it is done without hate or even criticism. Why?[217]

In his diaries, he wrote, "We must limit to a reasonable amount the Jewish influence ... Whenever the Jewish percentage of total population becomes too high, a reaction seems to invariably occur. It is too bad because a few Jews of the right type are, I believe, an asset to any country."

Beginning in 1957, General Lindbergh engaged in lengthy sexual relationships with three women while remaining married to Anne Morrow. He fathered three children with hatmaker Brigitte Hesshaimer (1926–2001), who had lived in the small Bavarian town of Geretsried. He had two children with her sister Mariette, a painter, living in Grimisuat. Lindbergh also had a son and daughter (born in 1959 and 1961) with Valeska, an East Prussian aristocrat who was his private secretary in Europe and lived in Baden-Baden.[261][262][263][264] All seven children were born between 1958 and 1967.[2]

Ten days before he died, Lindbergh wrote to each of his European mistresses, imploring them to maintain the utmost secrecy about his illicit activities with them even after his death.[265] The three women (none of whom ever married) all managed to keep their affairs secret even from their children, who during his lifetime (and for almost a decade after his death) did not know the true identity of their father, whom they had only known by the alias Careu Kent and seen only when he briefly visited them once or twice a year. However, after reading a magazine article about Lindbergh in the mid-1980s, Brigitte's daughter Astrid deduced the truth; she later discovered photographs and more than 150 love letters from Lindbergh to her mother. After Brigitte and Anne Lindbergh had both died, she made her findings public; in 2003 DNA tests confirmed that Lindbergh had fathered Astrid and her two siblings.[2][266] Reeve Lindbergh, Lindbergh's youngest child with Anne, wrote in her personal journal in 2003, "This story reflects absolutely Byzantine layers of deception on the part of our shared father. These children did not even know who he was! He used a pseudonym with them (To protect them, perhaps? To protect himself, absolutely!)"[267]

Lindbergh with Air Force Maj. Bruce Ware in 1972 in front of a Sikorsky S-61R, following Ware's air rescue of Lindbergh in the Philippines

In later life Lindbergh was heavily involved in conservation movements, and was deeply concerned about the negative impacts of new technologies on the natural world and native peoples, focusing on regions like Hawaii, Africa, and the Philippines.[268][269][253] He campaigned to protect endangered species including the humpback whale, blue whale,[269][253] Philippine eagle, and the tamaraw (a rare dwarf Philippine buffalo), and was instrumental in establishing protections for the Tasaday and Agta people, and various African tribes such as the Maasai.[13][269] Alongside Laurance S. Rockefeller, Lindbergh helped establish the Haleakalā National Park in Hawaii.[270] He also worked to protect Arctic wolves in Alaska, and helped establish Voyageurs National Park in northern Minnesota.[13]

In an essay appearing in the July 1964 Reader's Digest, Lindbergh wrote about a realization he had in Kenya during a trip to see land being considered for a national park.[253] He contrasted his time amid the African landscape with his involvement in a supersonic transport convention in New York, and while "lying under an acacia tree," he realized how the "construction of an airplane" was simple compared to a bird. He wrote "that if I had to choose, I would rather have birds than airplanes."[253][271] In this essay, he questioned his old definition of "progress," and concluded that nature displayed more actual progress than humanity's creations.[253] He wrote several more essays for Reader's Digest and Life, urging people to respect the self-awareness that came from contact with nature, which he called the "wisdom of wildness," and not merely follow science.[253] As David Boocker wrote in 2009, Lindbergh's essays, appearing in popular magazines, "introduced millions of people to the conservation cause," and he made an important "appeal to lead a life less complicated by technology."[253]

On May 14, 1971, Lindbergh received the Philippine Order of the Golden Heart at a formal dinner at Malacañang Palace in Manila.[272] He was described as an aviation pioneer who had symbolized the advance of technology, and who now was a symbol of the drive to protect natural life from technology.[273] Lindbergh actively participated in both conservation and advocacy for tribal minorities in the Philippines, frequently visiting the country and working to protect species including the tamaraw and Philippine eagle, which he described as a "magnificent bird," lending his name to a law against killing or trapping the animal.[274] In August 1971, in Davao City, he ceremonially received a young Philippine eagle kept in captivity after its mother was killed by a hunter, delaying his return to the United States so he could take part in the presentation.[274] Arturo Garcia, a movie theater manager in Davao, had bought the bird for $40 in March 1970 after the hunting incident, and built a large cage for it behind his house. Lindbergh entered the cage with Jesus Alvarez, director of the Philippines park and wildlife commission, received the eagle, and then turned it over to Alvarez, remarking: "Now we have to see if the bird can go back to its natural place."[274] The Associated Press reported on both Lindbergh's reception of the Order of the Golden Heart and the presentation of the eagle.[274][275]

Lindbergh's speeches and writings in later life centered on technology and nature, and his lifelong belief that "all the achievements of mankind have value only to the extent that they preserve and improve the quality of life".[268] In 1972, Lindbergh undertook an expedition with a television news crew to Mindanao, in the Philippines, to investigate reports of a lost tribe.[276][277] The Tasaday, a Philippine indigenous people of the Lake Sebu area, were attracting much media attention at the time. Although both NBC Evening News and National Geographic ran stories about the supposed discovery of the tribe, a controversy emerged over whether the Tasaday were truly uncontacted, or had just been portrayed that way for media attention—particularly by Manuel Elizalde Jr., a Philippine politician who publicized the tribe—and were in reality "not completely isolated."[278] Lindbergh himself cooperated with Elizalde to get a "proclamation from President Ferdinand Marcos to preserve more than 46,000 acres of Tasaday country."[253] For the 70-year-old Lindbergh, however, interest in the Tasaday was soon supplanted by a more immediate concern when his team's support helicopter had mechanical trouble, creating the prospect of a three-day return trek through difficult jungle terrain. On April 2, The New York Times ran a UPI report stating Lindbergh's party had "sent a radio message from the rain forests of the southern Philippines saying their food was nearly gone and they needed help."[279] Henry A. Byroade, U.S. Ambassador to the Philippines, called upon the 31st Aerospace Rescue and Recovery Squadron at Clark Air Base on the island of Luzon to undertake a rescue.[280][281] U.S. Air Force Maj. Bruce Ware and his crew—co-pilot Lt. Col. Dick Smith, flight engineer SSgt Bob Baldwin, and pararescueman Airman 1st Class Kim Robinson—flew their Sikorsky HH-3E Jolly Green Giant over 600 miles (970 km) to rescue Lindbergh and his news crew on April 12, 1972.[282][283][280] Lindbergh and the news team were stranded on a 3,000-foot (910 m) high jungle ridge line, and because of this terrain the Sikorsky "had to hover with the nose wheel on one side of the ridge, and the main wheels on the other, with the boarding steps a few feet over the ridge top."[282] During the operation, the helicopter had to refuel twice, causing Lindbergh to comment that although he had helped develop in-flight refueling, he had never been aboard a helicopter during the procedure, nor on the receiving end of it.[282][280] After more than twelve hours, and a total of eight trips to a nearby drop point, the mission was finally complete, and all 46 individuals stranded on the ridge were extracted. With Lindbergh aboard, the helicopter then flew to Mactan Air Base, on the island of Cebu, where photographers were waiting for him.[282][280] Ware rested in the pilot's seat for several minutes after landing, and Lindbergh was hesitant to disembark before him. He told Ware he was certain he could not have made the "hard" three day journey back.[284][285] Lindbergh, with other passengers, was then loaded on a HC-130 and flown to Manila.[280]

Maj. Ware received the Distinguished Flying Cross for his actions, and the other Sikorsky crew members received the Air Medal.[282] In 2021, Ware described how he received his medal "in less than a week," remarking that it normally "takes several months. But when you've got an international hero, it kind of gains some momentum.”[285] The helicopter involved in the rescue, Sikorsky HH-3E 66-13289 (c/n 61-588),[286] was itself lost in the South China Sea later in 1972, following a rescue from a freighter west of Luzon, when its main transmission cracked and began leaking oil.[287]

Lindbergh also joined with early aviation industrialist, former Pan Am executive vice president, and longtime friend, Samuel F. Pryor Jr., in "efforts by the Nature Conservancy to preserve plants and wildlife in Kipahulu Valley" on the Hawaiian island of Maui.[288][289] Lindbergh chose the Kipahulu Valley for retirement, building an A‐frame cottage there in 1971;[290] Pryor moved there in 1965 with his wife, Mary, after retiring from Pan Am.[289][288][291] Lindbergh's choice of Maui as a retirement home "represented his love of natural places" and his "lifelong commitment to the ideal of simplicity."[292] Commenting on Lindbergh's profound concern with the impact of technology on humanity, Richard Hallion wrote: "He recognized the narrow margin on which society trod in the unstable nuclear era, and his work after World War II confirmed his fear that humanity now had the ability to destroy in minutes what previous generations had taken centuries to create. And so Lindbergh the technologist changed to Lindbergh the philosopher, protector of the Tasaday, preaching a turn from the materialistic, mechanistic society toward a society based on 'simplicity, humiliation, contemplation, prayer.'"[293] In her 1988 book, Charles A. Lindbergh and the American Dilemma, Susan M. Gray wrote that Lindbergh "established his 'middle ground' between technology and human values, embracing both, rejecting neither."[293]

Lindbergh's grave at Palapala Ho'omau Church in Kipahulu, Hawaii, with an epitaph from Psalm 139:9

Lindbergh spent his last years on Maui in his small, rustic seaside home. In 1972, he became sick with cancer and ultimately died of lymphoma[294] on the morning of August 26, 1974, at age 72.[295][269] After his cancer diagnosis, Lindbergh "sketched a simple design for his grave and coffin,"[296] helping to design his grave in the "traditional Hawaiian style."[297] Following “a series of radiation treatments, he spent several months in Maui recuperating,” and also made a 26‐day stay in the Columbia‐Presbyterian Medical Center in New York, but with little improvement.[290][298] After he realized the treatment would not save him, he decided to leave Columbia hospital and made a final return to Kipahulu with his wife Anne, flying to Honolulu on August 17 and then traveling to Maui by small plane, dying a week later.[269][290] He was buried on the grounds of the Palapala Ho'omau Church in Kipahulu, Maui, a Congregational church first established in 1864, which fell into disuse in the 1940s and was restored beginning in 1964 by Samuel F. Pryor Jr., whose family cooperated with the Lindbergh family to set up an endowment for the upkeep of the property.[299][291][289] Lindbergh took part in the church restoration with his old friend Pryor, and both men agreed to make their final resting place in the small cemetery they cleared.[289] Lindbergh was buried eight hours after he died in a eucalyptus casket, and was laid to rest in "simple work clothes."[292] For his funeral service he chose readings from the Bible and Native American poetry, among other selections.[292] On the evening of August 26, President Gerald Ford made a tribute to Lindbergh, saying that the courage and daring of his Atlantic flight would never be forgotten, describing him as a selfless, sincere man, and stating: "For a generation of Americans, and for millions of other people around the world, the 'Lone Eagle' represented all that was best in our country."[290][300] His epitaph, on a simple stone following the words "Charles A. Lindbergh Born Michigan 1902 Died Maui 1974", quotes Psalm 139:9: "If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea ... C.A.L."[301]

The Congressional Gold Medal presented in 1930 to Lindbergh by President Herbert Hoover

Lindbergh receiving the Harmon Trophy on December 13, 1928, at the International Civil Aeronautics Conference in Washington, D.C. He was escorted to the platform by Orville Wright, standing at Lindbergh's left.[311]

Lindbergh received many awards, medals and decorations, most of which were later donated to the Missouri Historical Society and are on display at the Jefferson Memorial, now part of the Missouri History Museum in Forest Park in St. Louis, Missouri.[312]

United States government

• Medal of Honor (1927)
• Distinguished Flying Cross (1927)
• Langley Gold Medal from the Smithsonian Institution (1927)
• Congressional Gold Medal (1930)

Other U.S. awards

• Orteig Prize (1927, see details above)
• Harmon Trophy (1927)
• Hubbard Medal (1927)
• Honorary Scout (Boy Scouts of America, 1927)[313]
• New York State Medal for Valor (June 13, 1927)[113][314]
• Silver Buffalo Award (Boy Scouts of America, 1928)[315]
• Wright Brothers Memorial Trophy (1949)
• Daniel Guggenheim Medal (1953)
• Pulitzer Prize (1954)

Non-U.S. awards

• Knight of the Order of Leopold (Belgium, 1927)
• Air Force Cross (United Kingdom, 1927)
• Commander of the Legion of Honor (France, made Commandeur in 1931, initial award in 1927)[316][5]
• Order of the German Eagle with Star (Nazi Germany, October 19, 1938)[317]
• Order of the Golden Heart (Philippines, May 14, 1971)[272]
• Fédération Aéronautique Internationale FAI Gold Medal (1927)
• ICAO Edward Warner Award (1975)[318]
• Royal Swedish Aero Clubs Gold plaque (1927)[319]

Lindbergh's Medal of Honor

Rank and organization: Captain, U.S. Army Air Corps Reserve. Place and date: From New York City to Paris, France, May 20–21, 1927. Entered service at: Little Falls, Minn. Born: February 4, 1902, Detroit, Mich. G.O. No.: 5, W.D., 1928; Act of Congress December 14, 1927.[320][N 7]

Citation

For displaying heroic courage and skill as a navigator, at the risk of his life, by his nonstop flight in his airplane, the "Spirit of St. Louis", from New York City to Paris, France, 20–21 May 1927, by which Capt. Lindbergh not only achieved the greatest individual triumph of any American citizen but demonstrated that travel across the ocean by aircraft was possible.[324]

• 1934–1939 Trustee of the Carnegie Institution[325]
• 1965 International Aerospace Hall of Fame Inductee[326]
• 1991 Scandinavian-American Hall of Fame Inductee[327]
• Ranked No. 3 on Flying magazine's 51 Heroes of Aviation[328]
• Member of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows[329]

External video
Presentation by A. Scott Berg on Lindbergh at the Miami Book Fair International, November 22, 1998, C-SPAN
Booknotes interview with A. Scott Berg on Lindbergh, December 20, 1998, C-SPAN

In addition to many biographies, such as A. Scott Berg's 1998 award-winning bestseller Lindbergh, Lindbergh also influenced or was the model for characters in a variety of works of fiction.[332] Shortly after he made his famous flight, the Stratemeyer Syndicate began publishing a series of books for juvenile readers called the Ted Scott Flying Stories (1927–1943), which were written by a number of authors all using the nom de plume "Franklin W. Dixon", in which the pilot hero was closely modeled after Lindbergh. Ted Scott duplicated the solo flight to Paris in the series' first volume, entitled Over the Ocean to Paris published in 1927.[333] Another reference to Lindbergh appears in the Agatha Christie novel (1934) and movie Murder on the Orient Express (1974) which begins with a fictionalized depiction of the Lindbergh kidnapping.[334]

There have been several alternate history novels depicting Lindbergh's alleged Nazi-sympathies and non-interventionist views during the first half of World War II. In Daniel Easterman's K is for Killing (1997), a fictional Lindbergh becomes president of a fascist United States. The Philip Roth novel The Plot Against America (2004) explores an alternate history where Franklin Delano Roosevelt is defeated in the 1940 presidential election by Lindbergh, who allies the United States with Nazi Germany.[335] The novel draws heavily on Lindbergh's comments concerning Jews as a catalyst for its plot.[224] The Robert Harris novel Fatherland (1992) explores an alternate history where the Nazis won the war, the United States still defeats Japan, Adolf Hitler and President Joseph Kennedy negotiate peace terms, and Lindbergh is the US Ambassador to Germany. The Jo Walton novel Farthing (2006) explores an alternate history where the United Kingdom made peace with Nazi Germany in 1941, Japan never attacked Pearl Harbor, thus the United States never got involved with the war, and Lindbergh is president and is seeking closer economic ties with the Greater East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere.

• Lindbergh has been the subject of numerous documentary films, including Charles A. Lindbergh (1927), a UK documentary by De Forest Phonofilm; 40,000 Miles with Lindbergh (1928), featuring Lindbergh himself; and The American Experience‍—‌Lindbergh: The Shocking, Turbulent Life of America's Lone Eagle (1988).[336][337][338]
• The 1942 MGM picture Keeper of the Flame, starring Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, features Hepburn as the widow of a "Lindbergh-like" national hero.[339]
• In the major motion picture The Spirit of St. Louis (1957), directed by Billy Wilder, Lindbergh was played by James Stewart, an admirer of Lindbergh and himself a World War II aviator. The film largely centers around Lindbergh's record-breaking 1927 flight.[340] Prior to the casting of Stewart, John Kerr declined to play the role because of Lindbergh's alleged pro-Nazi beliefs.[341]
• In 1976, Buzz Kulik's TV movie The Lindbergh Kidnapping Case, with Anthony Hopkins as Richard Bruno Hauptmann, premiered on NBC.[342]
• Lindbergh was the theme of prolific director Orson Welles's final living film project in 1984, The Spirit of Charles Lindbergh, where Welles speaks of the human spirit while quoting Lindbergh's journal. Although never intended to be viewed by the public, a brief clip can be seen at the end of Vassili Slovic's 1995 documentary Orson Welles: the One-Man Band.
• The 2020 HBO alternate history miniseries The Plot Against America, based on the Philip Roth book of the same name, features actor Ben Cole as a fictional President Lindbergh following his defeat of Roosevelt in 1940. The series portrays Lindbergh as a xenophobic populist with strong ties to Nazi Germany.
• Charles Lindbergh "Chuck" McGill, a fictional character in the TV series Better Call Saul (2015–2022), was named after Lindbergh.[343]

Within days of the flight, dozens of Tin Pan Alley publishers rushed a variety of popular songs into print celebrating Lindbergh and the Spirit of St. Louis including "Lindbergh (The Eagle of the U.S.A.)" by Howard Johnson and Al Sherman, and "Lucky Lindy!" by L. Wolfe Gilbert and Abel Baer. In the two-year period following Lindbergh's flight, the U.S. Copyright Office recorded three hundred applications for Lindbergh songs.[344][345] Tony Randall revived "Lucky Lindy" in an album of Jazz Age and Depression-era songs that he recorded titled Vo Vo De Oh Doe (1967).[346]

While the exact origin of the name of the Lindy Hop is disputed, it is widely acknowledged that Lindbergh's 1927 flight helped to popularize the dance: soon after "Lucky Lindy" "hopped" the Atlantic, the Lindy Hop became a trendy, fashionable dance, and songs referring to the "Lindbergh Hop" were quickly released.[347][348][349][350]

In 1929, Bertolt Brecht wrote a cantata called Der Lindberghflug (Lindbergh's Flight) with music by Kurt Weill and Paul Hindemith. Because of Lindbergh's apparent Nazi sympathies, in 1950 Brecht removed all direct references to Lindbergh and renamed the piece Der Ozeanflug (The Flight Across the Ocean).[351]

In the early 1940s Woody Guthrie wrote "Lindbergh" or "Mister Charlie Lindbergh"[352] which criticizes Lindbergh's involvement with the America First Committee and his suspected sympathy for Nazi Germany.

"Lindbergh Air Mail" 10¢ issue (C-10) June 11, 1927

Scott C-10 and #1710 with May 20, 1977 First Day of Issue CDS

Lindbergh and the Spirit have been honored by a variety of world postage stamps over the last eight decades, including three issued by the United States. Less than three weeks after the flight the U.S. Post Office Department issued a 10-cent "Lindbergh Air Mail" stamp (Scott C-10) on June 11, 1927, with engraved illustrations of both the Spirit of St. Louis and a map of its route from New York to Paris. This was also the first U.S. stamp to bear the name of a living person.[353] A half-century later, a 13-cent commemorative stamp (Scott #1710) depicting the Spirit flying low over the Atlantic Ocean was issued on May 20, 1977, the 50th anniversary of the flight from Roosevelt Field.[354] On May 28, 1998, a 32¢ stamp with the legend "Lindbergh Flies Atlantic" (Scott #3184m) depicting Lindbergh and the Spirit was issued as part of the Celebrate the Century stamp sheet series.[355]

During World War II, Lindbergh was a frequent target of Dr. Seuss's first political cartoons, published in the New York magazine PM, in which Geisel criticized Lindbergh's isolationism, antisemitism, and supposed Nazi sympathies.[356]

Lindbergh's Spirit of St. Louis is featured in the opening sequence of Star Trek: Enterprise (2001–2005), which aimed to follow the "evolution of exploration" by featuring significant designs throughout history, starting with the frigate HMS Enterprise and Montgolfière balloon, to the Wright Flyer III, Spirit of St. Louis and Bell X-1, up through the Lunar Module Eagle, Space Shuttle Enterprise, Mars rover Sojourner, and International Space Station.[357]

St. Louis area–based GoJet Airlines uses the callsign "Lindbergh" after Charles Lindbergh.

• Thomas, Louisa (July 24, 2016). "America First, for Charles Lindbergh and Donald Trump". The New Yorker.
• Brody, Richard (February 1, 2017). "The Frightening Lessons of Philip Roth's 'The Plot Against America'". The New Yorker.
• Hampton, Dan (May 19, 2017). "The World Over Which Charles Lindbergh Flew". TIME.

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• "Lindbergh: Daredevil". PBS.
• "Lindbergh: The Spirit of St. Louis". PBS.
• "Lindbergh: Transatlantic Flight, New York to Paris". PBS.
• "Lindbergh: The Kidnapping". PBS.
• "Lindbergh: Fallen Hero". PBS.