“No,” I said. “I felt you.”
“It is a good thing you didn’t see me,” Lindbergh said, “because if you had seen me you would have pulled up, too, and we would have hit head on.”
[WINGS OVER AKRON]
Tom was flying in front of me to my left. We both had PW-8s. We were heading toward Uniontown, Pa. They were opening a field there. We were going to stunt for them. We were flying 7,000 feet high in a milky autumn haze. The rolling Ohio country beneath us was visible only straight down and out to an angle of about 45 degrees. Beyond that the earth mingled with the haze and was invisible.
I saw a town over the leading edge of my lower right wing. I recognized it as Akron, O. I pushed my stick forward and opened my throttle. I had always wanted to jazz the fraternity house in a high-powered fast ship.
Down I came. Roaring louder and louder. I couldn’t see a soul in the yard of the fraternity house.
I missed the house by inches as I pulled sharply out of my dive and zoomed almost vertically up for altitude. I looked back as I shot up into the sky. The yard was full of fellows.
I kicked over and nosed down at the house again. I came as close to it as I could without hitting it as I pulled back and thundered up into the air.
I nosed over into a third dive at the house. As I pulled up this time I kicked the ship into a double snap roll as I climbed. I didn’t look back. I just kept on climbing, heading for Uniontown. I overtook Tom a little while later.