sport about my flying activities, was ready to back the plan with full enthusiasm. For several reasons it seemed wise not to talk about the proposed flight in advance. After all, there was nothing to talk about until it became an actuality, and from the start I definitely planned that I might abandon it at any time.
It was clear in my mind that I was undertaking the flight because I loved flying. I chose to fly the Atlantic because I wanted to. It was, in a measure, a self-justification—a proving to me, and to anyone else interested, that a woman with adequate experience could do it.
The plane was taken to Teterboro Airport in New Jersey just across the Hudson from New York. There is located the now unused Fokker plant, and close by lived Bernt Balchen, who with his wife are close friends of Mr. Putnam and mine. Bernt of course is one of the very finest flyers living, and also a great technician with rare engineering training. He has the happy characteristic of conservatism and being unhurried in his judgments. At the outset we told Bernt that if at any time he thought I couldn’t do it, or the ship couldn’t do it, I would abandon it, and no harm done. But Bernt never once wavered in his confidence, and that confidence helped immeasurably in sustaining my own.
First Balchen and his helpers strengthened the fuselage of the Lockheed which had had some hard knocks in the three years I have flown it. Then
