After I learned to read, I became a voracious reader, particularly if the book had anything to do with aviation. Those books had a formative influence on my choice of careers in both military and commercial aviation. Just as importantly, they helped shape my perception of character. Courage, honor, solid work ethic and initiative were traits exhibited in stories of the Wright brothers, Charles Lindbergh, Joseph McConnell and John Glenn. I wanted to be like those pilots. Young boys should imitate men who inspire virtuosity.
Now, I have the advantage of time and experience to reflect on childhood dreams and follow the mosaic of my life from a few loose threads to the tightly woven tapestry that now unfolds. For instance, I ask how do I reconcile my youthful propensity to pattern my life after someone I really respected when I discover that person had some serious skeletons in his closet?
I wrestled with two such discoveries recently. I read a lot about Charles Lindbergh, the first pilot to fly solo across the Atlantic. If fact, when I gave other pilots at Southwest Airlines their annual evaluations, I often quoted Lucky Lindy, “I’m not a big believer in luck. I believe what people call luck is where prior preparation meets opportunity.” As pilots, we prepare for the unexpected, and Lindbergh epitomized that axiom.
However, my wife is reading “The Aviator’s Wife,” a novel based on Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s reflection on her life with her celebrity husband. In our discussion of the book, I discovered Mrs. Lindbergh came to view Charles as an obnoxious, power-seeking, Nazi-loving, anti-Semitic, arrogant, philandering narcissist. Thinking that could not be based on facts, I did more research.
It is true. Three books verify the character flaws: “Against Wind and Tide,” based on the diaries of Anne Morrow Lindbergh; “Forward From Here” by Reeve Lindbergh, Charles and Anne’s daughter; and “The Double Life of Charles Lindbergh,” published in German in 2005 by Rudolf Schrock. Schrock’s book includes personal interviews with three of Lindbergh’s seven illegitimate children, 150 love letters to his three German mistresses, and results of a DNA test by Munich University proving the infidelities. Apparently my hero, dubbed the “Lone Eagle,” wasn’t so “lone” after all.
The second incident is more personal. When I was a child, my family had lots of issues. It was tough. However, a special family in my neighborhood liked me and gave me opportunities I would never have had otherwise. They provided insight into a family who knew how to laugh, love and view life with optimism. It was a template for how I hoped members of my own family would function as adults, and it has. Recently, though, I discovered the parents of that ideal family, now in advanced age, are miserable. The husband admitted to a long-term adulterous affair that happened decades ago. The wife, suffering a terminal illness, refuses to forgive him, sending her husband into the depths of depression.
Coupling these revelations with the misinformation, conspiracy theories, blatant lies, and political mudslinging I hear daily about the coronavirus, I wonder if truth exists anywhere in the world. And then, I read those soothing words from the Gospel of John, Chapter 8, “If you abide in my word … you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.”
Though we attempt, we never discover “freedom” through hard work, little boys’ dreams, illicit adult relationships, political banter, or biased news reports – only in his word, the Bible. Only there do we confront the truth about both our sinful selves and the grace, forgiveness and freedom that await us.
Roger Smith, a local author, is a frequent contributor to the Times Free Press.