MRS. GUEST RETURNING TO NEW YORK IS MET BY COMMANDER BYRD FROM WHOM SHE PURCHASED THE “FRIENDSHIP”
CHAPTER II
EARLY AVIATION
AT the end of my brief hospital career I became a patient myself. It was a case of too much nursing, perhaps with too long hours, in the pneumonia ward. I picked up an infection and there followed several minor operations and a rather long period of convalescence.
At Toronto I had been put into the dispensary because I knew a little chemistry and because it appeared I was one of the few people who wouldn’t drink the medical supply of whiskey. My brief experiences aroused my interest in medicine, and after the armistice I went to New York with the idea that I might become a physician. At Columbia I took up a very heavy course which included pre-medical work. Scholastically I think I could have qualified, but after a year of study I convinced myself that some of my abilities did not measure up to the requirements which I felt a physician should have.
My mother and father wanted me to come to Los Angeles. Regretfully I left New York and moved west.
Southern California is a country of out-door sports. I was fond of automobiles, tennis, horseback riding, and almost anything else that is active and carried on in the open. It was a short step from such interests to aviation and just then, as now, Southern California was particularly active in air matters.
I remember the first air meet I attended. It was near Long Beach, at Daugherty Field, the ocean side of the broad Los Angeles valley. The sky was blue and flying conditions were perfect, as I remember. As this was the summer of 1920 commercial flying was in its infancy. Even to go to see planes then was considered really sporting by the populace. There were mechanical imperfections of many kinds, but progress is made always through experimentation.
Certainly a great many of the people gathered that day had never before seen an aeroplane. The planes mostly were old war material, Jennys and Canucks. The Army and Navy were represented with the planes available at that time—Standards, D. H.’s, Douglasses, Martins, etc. None of the ships stand out distinctly in my mind as types. I imagine there were some bombing planes and pursuit jobs, but they all seemed to my untrained eye more or less routine two-seaters. Of course at that time I knew somewhat less than I do now.
However, one thing I did know that day. I wanted to fly. I was there with my father, who, I fear, wasn’t having a very good time. As the dust blew in his eyes, and his collar wilted, I think his enthusiasm for aviation, such as it was, waned. He was slightly non-plussed, therefore, when I said:
“Dad, you know, I think I’d like to fly.”