My husband’s uncle, J.H. Longino, is 89 years young and he loves to fly. He was a pilot for Delta Airlines and when he and his wife, Bobby, visited Paris in the ’70s, Uncle J.H. wanted to visit the Musee Air + Space while Aunt Bobby was more interested in “that other museum.” The Louvre? “Yea, that one.”
Rollin likes to fly…so much so that he would like to be a commercial pilot. No surprise, then, that the air and space museum was on his list of things to do in Paris. This morning the Longino men (save Trevor who was at the apartment with Eleanor recovering from having his two “little” brothers jump on him for a piggy back ride gone bad a couple of days ago. Trevor is now limping around Paris with the help of a cane. Need I elaborate more?) and I visited the museum.
The visit was a timely one for me as I have just finished reading “The Aviator’s Wife,” a fictional, historical novel about the marriage of Charles Lindbergh to Anne Morrow. Lucky Lindy made it from Long Island, NY across the Atlantic Ocean and all the way to Paris in what amounted to an airplane in 1927. The Musee Air + Space is housed in an old airport, probably the first one built in Paris, on a road named after Lindbergh. Once the Nazis took control of Paris, they used the airport for the Luftwaffe to keep the Brits at bay over the English Channel.
The Longinos descended in a mild rain which didn’t stop us from enjoying the tour both inside and out. Walking through a couple of Concords was interesting and seeing the Arianespace rocket took me back to my AT&T days in the ’90s watching one of the Telstar satellites launch from Cape Canaveral. And the old German V1 rockets that tore London apart in WWII look surprisingly like today’s drones….
My favorite part of the museum was a very creative rendering of early aviation — before the wars…even before the Spirit of St. Louis. Flying was much more romantic then…man wanting to soar like a bird, rising above his troubles on the ground. I loved this particular early aircraft because it so looked like a giant, white bird.
Graceful and elegant…quietly riding the wind — or at least trying to!