Twelve-Inch Time Waits

 

It was around lunchtime September 5, 1936. Two fishermen in a bog on the eastern shores of Nova Scotia were surprised to find a young woman, waist-deep in the muddy water. She was bleeding from a gash on her forehead. Behind her was a single-engine aircraft, sinking nose-first in the peat. “I’m Mrs Markham,” she said, “and I’ve just flown here from England.” Beryl Markham had meant to land in NYC, but had fallen short of her target. As anyone who flies can tell you, it’s easier to cross the ocean going west-to-east than east-to-west, against the wind. That’s why Lindburgh and Earhart both made world records going in the opposite direction. At the age of 33, Mrs. Markham became the first person to fly solo, non-stop, from Europe to North America. September 6, she was treated to a motorcade through New York and a suite at the Ritz-Carlton. “America,” she proclaimed, “is jolly grand.”