Le Bourget with Lindberg and Raymond

I volunteered my services to Sylvie and offered to pick up her husband Raymond who was flying via corporate jet to Le Bourget. Why he was flying in there and not De Gaulle, I don't know nor do I know why his law firm would not have had a private limo waiting for arrival. Maybe I'm just asking too many questions. I get that way sometimes. I mean after all, like that line from the movie "what do I know, I'm just a cook" and I guess you can add chauffeur to that now as well. I've have a little bit of down time here at the Auberge since we discovered a problem with the temperature control system of our wine cellar. It's not a crisis yet. I've a got a Monsieur who was recommended to me by a friend at very good restaurant in Paris. This person knows his métier and recognizes the urgency of this situation. It will be a closely supervised operation. I have over 2000 bottles and I've worked hard on the collection. Anyway, so I volunteered to drive out to Le Bourget; it will be interesting and maybe even a bit evocative as so many places and things and sounds are want to do to me in Paris.

The Aéroport de Paris - Le Bourget, is partially located in Bonneuil-en-France and Dugny and both are communes in the northeastern suburbs of Paris about 6-7 miles from the city I would say. Le Bourget, (LBG, for you flying hounds) is now used only for general aviation (discrete business jets in other words ) as well as air shows. The airport started commercial operations back in 1919 and for the longest time was the only airport until Orly Airport in 1932 which is the first airport I can remember using (and it was not in '32 either.) 

So what do we know about Le Bourget - some people might confuse the name with a spreadable French cheese but that's not it either. Quick history, because I can't help and probably should have been a professor somewhere tucked away with my tweeds and guiding young minds rather than creating masterpieces (thank you) on fine bone china in Paris. Either way c'est la guerre. Le Bourget is most famous as the landing site for Charles Lindbergh's historic solo transatlantic crossing in 1927. Lindberg (who was nicknamed "Slim","Lucky Lindy" and "The Lone Eagle") a 25-year old U.S. Air Mail pilot, emerged from virtual obscurity to almost instantaneous world fame as the result of his Prize-winning solo non-stop flight on May 20?21, 1927. That flight took off from Roosevelt Field in Garden City Long Island and landed at Le Bourget Field in Paris, France some 33.5 hours later; all in a single-seat, single-engine monoplane Spirit of St. Louis. To put it all in perspective think of his plane as being little more than the size of a snowboard equipped with a gas can, steering wheel and some paper mache wings. "Slim" was later awarded the nation's highest military decoration, the Medal of Honor, for his historic exploit.

Driving over to pick up Raymond, I got to thinking about my grandparents who, as you may remember from one of my earlier dispatches about Harry's New York Bar, had been present at Le Bourget and witnessed that historic moment in aviation history. It must have been something to see Lindberg and the "Spirit"breaking through the clouds and finally touching down on French soil at 10:22 PM on May 21. By that time, a crowd estimated at around 150,000, some of whom had apparently been there for over seven hours) stormed the field, charging towards this little single engine plane, dragged Lindberg out of the cockpit, and literally carried him around above their heads for nearly half an hour. According to several newspapers covering the story, two companies of soldiers with fixed bayonets (can you picture that?) and the Le Bourget field police, reinforced by a number of Paris agents, had apparently held the crowd in good order - I think that would have been sufficient to keep me "in good order." But as soon as the lights showed the plane had landed, all hell broke loose and there was this mad rush to the plane. United States Ambassador Herrick was among the first to welcome and congratulate Lindberg but he was not the first to reach the plane. That honor belonged to two workmen from Le Bourget and half a dozen Frenchmen (sprinters I believe). The workman leaned into the cockpit with thumbs up and said "cette fois, ca va!" (this time it's good) and Lindberg, ever the master of understatement replied: "Well, I made it." Gotta love it, mes amis! That's history for you.

I took the Autoroute du Nord (or the A1) and then the A86 finally taking the exit for Le Bourget. Timing was good. I arrived and immediately saw Raymond on the curb waving me down as if I was a cab. He turned to a well dressed older gentlement next to him  handing him a manila envelope and both quickly shook hands. Raymond hopped in threw his bags in the back and off we went Direction A1 for Paris. As it turned out Raymond had taken a flight from Algiers to London then made a connection from Gatwick to Le Bourget via a private charter. I  remarked that a direct flight from Algiers to DeGaulle would seem to have been a lot easier. Well apparently it didn't work out that way for some reason, according to Raymond. End of conversation. Some things you know when to end. I suggested lunch which was immediately greeted with enthusiasm.