May 21, 1927: Aviator Charles Lindbergh Lands in Paris
On this day in 1927, aviator Charles A. Lindbergh landed in Paris after completing the first solo flight across the Atlantic. He was only 25 years old.
On his flight aboard The Spirit of St. Louis, Lindbergh traveled over 3,600 miles in 33.5 hours. Upon his landing, a new aviation hero was born, and The Spirit of St. Louis attained legendary status. Lindbergh became the most famous private citizen on the earth, but he resisted fame. He hated the press but spent most of his life attracting publicity.
Read how Charles Lindbergh prepared for the flight to Paris with American Experience’s detailed history of The Spirit of St. Louis.
Top Left Photo: Charles Lindbergh with “Spirit of St. Louis” in background. Copyrighted 1927 (Library of Congress). Top Right Photo: Charles Lindbergh working on engine of “The Spirit of St. Louis,” 1927 (Library of Congress). Bottom Photo: Charles Lindbergh in open cockpit of airplane at Lambert Field, St. Louis, Missouri, 1923 (Library of Congress).
The making of a Coca-Cola neon sign for Piccadilly Circus, 1954
Berkowski made the first solar eclipse photograph on July 28, 1851, also using the daguerrotype process, at the Royal Observatory in Königsberg, Prussia (now Kalinigrad in Russia). Berkowski, a local daguerrotypist whose first name was never published, observed at the Royal Observatory. A small 6-cm refracting telescope was attached to the 15.8-cm Fraunhofer heliometer and a 84-second exposure was taken shortly after the beginning of totality.
Old subway sign from early 1900s tucked away between scaffolding.
I started doing this about three months ago. I don’t know what prompted me to start, but I haven’t been able to stop. Hell, I don’t want to stop.
I’ve been making it a point to go up to random women (in the movie theater, at the mall, waiting in line at Chipotle, pushing my cart around the grocery store, or wherever I happen to be) and compliment them on what they’re wearing, their hair, their makeup, their bone structure, or anything else I notice about them.
It started when I was in the bathroom at my local movie theater. I saw this girl washing her hands at the sink, and she was wearing this gorgeous pair of earrings. They really brought out her whole outfit, and I thought to myself, “God, those earrings are awesome.” But I never said so, and I really regretted it, mostly because she looked tired and a compliment probably would’ve made her smile.
The next time I saw something about someone, I didn’t keep it to myself. And I just kept doing it. I’d be in Macys and see a woman with beautiful cheekbones, and I’d have to say something. I’d be like, “Excuse me, this is probably going to sound a bit weird, but I just have to tell you that you have incredible cheekbones. You’re gorgeous!” Or even this morning while I was waiting for my muffin in Dunkin’ Donuts; there was a girl with an incredible haircut, and I leaned around a few people, tapped her on the back, and said, “Hey, sorry, but I just wanted you to know that your haircut? Ah-mazing. It looks SO good on you.” And it did! I was being 100% sincere. It won me a laugh, a bashful thanks, a bit of light conversation, and a wave as she left.
The thing that gets me about giving compliments at random are the reactions: it’s usually either shock, surprise, or desperate gratitude.
I think we, as women, become so used to other women bringing us down that we forget we’re all in this together. All you have to do is look at any comment section for any article about a woman or female character doing something — hell, even Angelina Jolie and her brave decision to have a double mastectomy — to know we have a serious problem when it comes to being kind to other women (or anyone who identifies as such).
So, I just had to share this with y’all. I guess a little act of random kindness and solidarity, even just a kind word, can be just what we need. It’s time to stop tearing each other down—we get enough of that as it is.
I think you’re even more my favourite person now. That is lovely <3 I always feel too shy to say things like that to strangers, I wish I weren’t.
It doesn’t always work. I once complimented a 12-year old on a cute shirt she was wearing. I remembered being 12 and wishing for a kind word (because middle school sucked and everyone was suddenly so awful and petty), and I wanted her to feel good about herself.
Instead, I think I came off sounding like a pedophile. She looked really confused and had a “stranger danger” glint in her eyes.
This is really awesome. I’ve had this happen, and also, done it for other women, and generally it makes people happy and results in a bit of light conversation.
Jason Isaacs: I remember my very first day, I improvised a line. I had my first day, probably my first shot, I had to kind of flounce out of a room when Dumbledore, played by the late, great Richard Harris, put me in my place, and there was no line written, no exit line. And I’d been humiliated, and my plan had come to nothing. And I said to Chris Columbus, “Don’t you think there should be a line?” And he said, “Well, say something. Say whatever you like.” So we did another take, and I hadn’t told anyone what I was going to do. And as I turned to leave, I looked at Daniel, and I said, “Let us hope Mr. Potter will always be around to save the day.” And then Daniel, who was all of 12, stepped right up to me, looked me right in the eye, and said “Don’t worry. I will be.” A chill went down my spine. And as he did it, I thought, “Christ, this kid is good.”
This is the part in the Harry Potter issue of Entertainment Weekly, when Jason tells this story, that I started to cry.
One of the most iconic lines in the whole of the series was improvised. By a 12-year-old boy.
She Wants Revenge - Sister
I see a little silhouetto of a man
Will you do the fandango?
ＴＨＵＮＤＥＲＢＯＬＴＳ ＡＮＤ ＬＩＧＨＴＮＩＮＧ
ＶＥＲＹ ＶＥＲＹ ＦＲＩＧＨＴＥＮＩＮＧ
A scene from Cannes during the International Film Festival, 1962. See more photos here.
(Paul Schutzer—Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images)
I keep listening to this because I think it’s funny, then I realise I love it.
(Top) Librarians organizing card catalogs in front of an Ellamarie & Jackson Woolley enamel and copper mural called, “”Wisdom.”
In 1960, it was a given as a gift to the Whittier Public Library by Mrs. Frank Blake, Mrs. Aubrey Wardman, Mary & Katherine Sorensen.
(Bottom photos) The mural today behind a slightly different setting.