Book IV
Page 15
“A good friend of mine is a docent at the Cradle of Aviation Museum in Farmingdale, Long Island. He’s going to give us a private walk-through of the museum this afternoon. It has almost any aircraft you can name. Sound good?”
Both Amelia and Fred answered yes in unison.
Two hours later they got out of Bill’s black SUV. Amelia and Noonan stood looking at the car.
“My Lord,” she said, “what an age . . . and what traffic! Lord, a person would have to leave their house hours before their flight leaves.”
Fred had the same look of astonishment and just shook his head as they went into the old Grumman hangar that had been transformed into one of the greatest aerospace museums in the world.
Docent Jim Ruggiero was standing by the front desk and waved them over. John shook hands and introduced them calling Amelia, Amy Visionaire, and Fred, Fred McMann.
Jim looked at Amelia and said, “Wow! Did anyone ever tell you that you look like Amelia Earhart?”
Bill laughed, and before she could answer said, “She tells me she hears that all the time.” Amelia just smiled.
They went in and she was immediately naming all the aircraft they were shown.
It’s almost as though she was on intimate terms with all these aircraft, thought Bill.
She started telling little-known anecdotes about the aircraft, much to Jim’s delight as he took notes now and then.
They got to one aircraft and the docent said, “This aircraft carried the Sperry autopilot, an invention that could only come from the mind of the great visionary, Sperry.”
Amelia shook her head and said, “Sir, I beg to correct you, but Orville Wright received the Collier Trophy in 1913 for the Wrights’ Automatic Stabilization System, which was the forerunner of the auto pilot.”
“Oh,” said Jim, “I better research that and correct my script. Thank you, Amy.” He laughed and said, “You not only look like the famous aviatrix, but sound as she probably sounded, too.”
She was constantly adding small facts to the docent’s remarks. When he got to the JN-4 Curtiss Jenny, he said, “More than 600 Jennys arrived in Europe for World War One to help win the air war.”
Amelia smiled and said, “Actually, the number was 400, which was a lot fewer than the 20,000 they promised General Pershing.”
When they got to the Apollo 11 mission that showed a replica of the Lunar Lander resting on a simulated patch of the moon, she turned to Bill and asked wide eyed, “We, we went to the Moon?”
Jim looked at her with raised eyebrows as Bill steered her away and whispered something in her ear. She was quiet for the rest of the trip, but Jim felt that more than once her giggle told him she wanted to correct him.
Finally, the trip was over and they were back in the car when Bill and John started laughing out loud. “John,” said Bill, “that’s the last time Jim will invite you into the museum.”
“It was a great trip,” said Amelia. “The museum had almost every aircraft made in the U.S. What history!” She put her hand on Bill’s shoulder as he steered through traffic, “Once again, Bill, thanks. It was a real eye-opener. And, now more than ever I know what I want to do.”
“And what’s that?” asked John.
“I do want to go to the future. That is, my future, your past, the 1960s and teach school. I want to fly and teach young children about aviation.”
John said, “There’s a school I went to in Queens, New York. Queens Aviation High School. My dad went to it when it was known as Manhattan High School of Aviation Trades. It’s the best and you’d be perfect for it.”
The last night before the two time travelers were to take Amelia and Fred back to the sixties, they were sitting around the big television sipping hot chocolate when Amelia said, “Bill, John, there’s something on my mind and I have to try to find out the answer before we leave.”
“Go ahead and try us,” said Bill as he took a sip of hot chocolate.
“You say that the way history happened, Fred and I never made it back. But when this probe from the future saw us making it back and the consequences of it was bad, they had to fix it. Correct?”
“Correct,” answered Bill.
“Well,” she continued, “maybe we didn’t really ditch at sea after all. In fact, what if the answer was, we didn’t make it back because you guided us to the other island. Then, by bringing us back to the States in secret, that’s the reason we disappeared. Could that be the reason we never returned?”
“Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” quipped John.
Bill shrugged his shoulders and said, “Amelia, we did what we thought was right. In our time, you two never made it. Now, by us guiding you to the island, did we save you from another fate? I don’t know. Would you prefer we do it again and leave you to your own fate?”
“Not me,” answered Fred sitting forward. “I remember the cold feeling of seeing the gas gauge going on empty, no one giving us directions and us having to come down to 1,000 feet to try to get a glimpse of the ocean. No, thanks! I’ll take this scenario. It definitely got us back.”
Amelia nodded and said, “Fred’s right. This is the one that definitely worked. I’d have to stick with this one, too.” She took a sip of her drink and looked at Bill then continued in a more somber tone, “You said that my husband George has a good life and from what I’ve read in your library, he does and I’m happy about that.”
Bill nodded and said, “Yes, like it said in any book on the subject, he goes on to become an officer in the Army and also very successful in business.”
“Well,” she said with a smile and a wink, “he always wanted to be in the Army, and you never know, maybe I’ll arrange a meeting with him later on.”
They stayed up almost the entire night with Amelia and Fred studying the era they were about to enter.
It was eleven the next morning and Matt had outfitted both Fred and Amelia with clothing for the year 1964, the year they had chosen.
Bill sat at the coffee table with them and said, “Amelia, Fred, it’s been a great pleasure to have met you both. That you understand the consequence of going back to your time is a tribute to your conscience and patriotism.”
He passed them both large manila folders and continued, “We want you to have the best chance of making it and have provided you with certain papers from our extensive historical records division. Inside you’ll find credentials stating that Amelia is a qualified teacher in the field of aviation along with a current pilot’s license.”
He looked at Fred and continued, “Fred, you’ll find instructions in all navigation aids of the period plus some future aids not around yet. Take care that you keep them to yourself, but they will give you the name you deserve when you open your navigation school.”
He then passed them keys and continued, “We set up rooms for you both in the Pennsylvania Hotel on Thirty-second Street and Seventh Avenue, Manhattan, the heart of New York City. Stay there for as long as you need.”
Matt came in and handed Bill two blue books and Bill passed them to Amelia and Fred. “Here’s a bankbook for each of you. Matt went back to 1962 to the Chase Manhattan Bank on Church and Worth streets in downtown New York City and opened accounts in your names. He deposited one million dollars in each account. By the standards of 1964, you both are very rich people. It’s the least we can do for you.”
Amelia and Fred just stared at Bill. Finally, Amelia broke the silence, “Bill, will we ever see any of you again? You all have been so wonderful to us.”
Bill shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know. But let me tell you this, if either of you have any problems, just leave a message at the club with instructions that it not be opened until the date you need me, and when I open it, I’ll go back to the date and help you out. Got it?”
Both nodded with a smile.
“So,” she said, “in a sense you will always be here with us, holding our hand.”
“Exactly. Always. You can count on it.”
/> Finally, it was time to go, and Bill and John walked them down to the garden after dialing up July 4, 1964.
DATELINE: JULY 4, 1964 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB’S GARDEN, NEW YORK CITY
Fred entered the garden dressed in a two-piece lightweight, gray suit, white shirt with button-down collar and black necktie and Worth streets in downtown New York City and opened accounts in your names. He deposited one million dollars in each account. By the standards of 1964, you both are very rich people. It’s the least we can do for you.”
Amelia and Fred just stared at Bill. Finally Amelia broke the silence, “Bill, will we ever see any of you again? You all have been so wonderful to us.”
Bill shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know. But let me tell you this, if either of you have any problems, just leave a message at the club with instructions that it not be opened until the date you need me, and when I open it, I’ll go back to the date and help you out. Got it?”
Both nodded with a smile.
“So,” she said, “in a sense you will always be here with us, holding our hand.”
“Exactly. Always. You can count on it.”
Finally it was time to go, and Bill and John walked them down to the garden after dialing up July 4, 1964.
DATELINE: JULY 4, 1964 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB’S GARDEN, NEW YORK CITY
Fred entered the garden dressed in a two-piece lightweight, gray suit, white shirt with button-down collar and black necktie remember, send a message up if you need anything at all. Good luck.”
They entered the taxi and tears glistened in Amelia’s eyes as she looked back out the taxi window. “Thanks for everything, you two. Goodbye.”
The taxi pulled away from the curb, and Bill and John watched it turn the corner of history.
Bill looked at his watch and said, “Time for lunch. Diamonds?”
John nodded and answered, “Yes, I can go for a tall, cold brew.”
They walked the few city blocks to their favorite watering hole and went in to be greeted by Paddy Diamond.
“Hello, Billy,” said the big jovial man as he pulled a large glass of beer for him, “how’ve you been?”
“Fine, Paddy how’s your dad?”
“Oh, he’s doing just fine. He fishes down at the Rockaway pier every chance he gets. Mom’s after him to paint the apartment, but he’s ducking it as much as he can.” He smiled at John and asked, “Beer?”
John put out his hand and said, “John Brand and yes, I’ll have a tall one.”
“Coming up. Here for lunch?”
Bill nodded and said, “Just a well-done burger for me, fried onions and fries.”
John pointed to Bill and said, “Same as him, Paddy, but medium, please.”
They took the booth by the old-fashioned telephone booth with the accordion door and raised their beers.
Bill said, “Cheers, and thanks for the airplane ride. It was an outstanding trip.” They clinked glasses and each took a drink.
After awhile, Paddy brought them the food and as he set the plates down, the telephone rang. Paddy answered it and said as he put his head out of the booth, “Not sure if he’s here, sir, let me look around. Who’s this?” He put his hand over the mouthpiece and said to Bill, “It’s a fellow named Matt. I told him I’d look to see if you were here. Do you want to talk to him or should I say you’re not here?”
Bill put his napkin down and said as he got up, “Thanks, Paddy, I’ll talk to him.” He went into the phone booth.
“Hello, Matt. What’s up?”
Matt answered, “Sorry to bother you sir, but your grandson stopped by and left a cube for you. I figured you might be at Diamonds and am calling from a candy store a few blocks away. Glad you are there.”
“Darn! I missed him. Thanks, Matt,” Bill said as he looked at his watch, “I’ll be back to the club in thirty minutes.”
“Oh sir, your grandson did say there was another mission coming up. It had to do with General Ulysses S. Grant.”
“You mean, President Ulysses S, Grant?”
“I do believe so, sir.”
Bill nodded to the phone and thought, I met the General once myself. What a great man. I wonder what the problem is? He hung up the phone and went back to finish his beer.
DATELINE: 2011 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY
Later that day, Bill Googled “Amy Visionaire” and read:
“Amy Visionaire, the Amelia Earhart look-alike young woman who seemed to come out of nowhere in the 60s, finished first in the Oshkosh Aerobatics Championships. Her home-built, low-wing aircraft stole the show as she looped and rolled above 67,000 paid viewers at the Oshkosh fly-in of 1971.
“The ‘Flying Schoolteacher’ as she is known, shares her aviation knowledge with the students of Queens Aviation High School in Queens, New York, when she’s not in the air.”
Bill smiled as he then Googled, “Frank McMann’s School of Navigation.” The screen showed: “The United States Air Force has awarded a contract worth $6.5 million dollars to Frank McMann’s School of Navigation in Farmingdale, Long Island. The service decided to downsize its navigation group and use civilian vendors. Mr. McMann won the Collier Trophy in 1974 for the school’s innovative approach to navigation.”
Bill sat back and lit a cigar as he opened the book titled, “He Led The Union To Victory; Ulysses S. Grant.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
The end is usually very apparent in a story, be it a book or movie. However, in this case, though it is the end page-wise, it continues on in the 1800 Club. You see, The 1800 Club does exist in New York City, though, under a different name and address. I, Bill Scott, also exist as President and owner of the club, and the people I wrote of, all exist. Some of their names have been changed, as they do have a life outside of the club, and they, and the club, must be protected.
By now you are thinking, “This is a put-on, there is no club that can travel in time.” But, I ask you to look around. Isn’t history the same as you read it in your history books? Believe me, the club is working to keep it so. You the reader may ask, “Why is he admitting this?” To that I answer, “Why not?” Sometimes the best place to hide something is right out in plain sight. So, while admitting the club exists, the secret is as safe as saying it doesn’t exist.
I intended to continue this narrative and tell you about some of the other missions the club has worked on, however, I have to interrupt this book at this point because I’ve just been alerted that there is a problem going on right now with U.S. General Ulysses S. Grant, the North’s top general. I do intend to document it, and others as they occur, in the next book, ‘Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club. Book 5.’
B.S.
Note from Robert P. McAuley
After each adventure in time, President Bill Scott dictates to me what occurred so I can write them down for posterity. He told me that, at this moment, there are more stories on hand and, as time goes on, who knows how many more there will be after that? He informed me that I might let our readers know that Book 5 will feature two more stories: The Time Travel Adventure to prevent the Union’s Top General of the Civil War, General Ulysses S. Grant from being captured by the South and the 1800 Club seeks to find out why a Civil War Ghost still hangs around after so many years. We both hope you find the time to read them. The following is the opening of The General Ulysses S. Grant Mission.
Regards, Robert McAuley
The General Ulysses S. Grant Mission
The balloon was at two thousand feet and drifting south. It seemed to disappear between white clouds and gray smoke from the cannon fire below. Few gray-uniformed troops looked up as they ran north toward the Union Army, caught unaware by the attack.
If General Grant were conscious, he’d have noticed the noise the wounded balloon was making. The hissing sound of escaping gas would have told him the shell fragments had pierced it.
Finally, in the bottom of the wicker gondola, he stirred and attempted to sit up. Grant grabbed hold of one of the
ropes that tied the gondola to the balloon above, and pulled himself to his feet. As he stood, his eyes opened wide.
“My God! Where in the blazes am I?” He was wobbly and looked down. “Where in tarnation am I?” he said again.
Suddenly he put it all together and looked down as the ground started to come up faster at him. Oh no, he thought, I’m going to hit!
The ground seemed to rush up at an even faster pace as he held on and automatically picked his feet up at impact. The gondola hit the top of a ridge on top of a high rise. The shock threw the general out of the craft. He hit the Earth at a bad angle and heard his leg break before losing consciousness again. The now-lightener balloon bounced back into the air and kept traveling south without its occupant.
Continued in Book V.
Please Feel Free To Critique This Book
Other books by Robert P. McAuley
Sky Ship
Romance in a Ghost Town
Vampire’s Bloodline
Aviation, Facts & Rumors Book 1
Aviation, Facts & Rumors Book II
The Dripping Sands Of Time
A New Jersey Yankee In King Arthur’s Court
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book I FREE!
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book II
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book III
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book IV
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book V
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book VI
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book VII
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book VIII
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book IX
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book X
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book XI
Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book XII