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[[two pseudo-clips of newspaper articles superimposed over a background of national newspaper headlines]]

[[1st article]]
It's Life of Luxury 10,000 Ft. Over Ocean
Russel Sabor, 4850 Harriet avenue, wrote the following story for The Journal 10,000 feet above the rolling Atlantic aboard the Dixie Clipper on Pan American Airways first regular passenger flight to Europe.

By RUSSEL SABOR 

Aboard Dixie Clipper (via Horta, Azores) June 29th.- I played a game of bridge last night high over the Atlantic ocean.
 Moonlight streamed through the ports of the Dixie Clipper. We talked in ordinary voice, the hum of the big flying boat's engines hardly noticeable in the sound-proofed cabins.
Life aboard the clipper is the luxurious life of a crack Atlantic liner.
Other pioneers have borne hardship and discomfort. We ate a dinner of five courses served on creamy linen with a service of glittering silver.
 Yet we 22 men and women are the first paid passengers to fly the Atlantic on regular schedule.
 Five thousand persons watched us board the clipper yesterday at Port Washington, Long Island. There was little ceremony. Little more excitement than attends the regular departure of an Atlantic liner.
 Aboard ship we made ourselves comfortable. Outside, the roar of the big clipper's engines was like a blasting storm. Inside the cabins, they were subdued to a deep hum. The ship rose from Southbay in a clean, level takeoff and we nosed gradually into the sky.
We picked up a light tailwind, rode it to the east. An hour later we passed over Nantucket light and headed out to sea.
It seemed a leisurely drifting —
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like riding a magic carpet laid inside a comfortable clubroom peopled with gay though unexcitable friends.
 We talked and exchanged autographs. Some of us wrote letters — one or two took care of business matters. A game of chess was in slow progress in one corner of the salon. 
 We were almost unaware of lifting through the overcast and riding above it in clear, crisp air.
 At 7 p.m. there spread beneath us a convoluted prairie of white cloudland. It was like a vast arctic waste tinted as the sun set behind us with a deepening scarlet and purple.
 I couldn't shake the impression of leisurely drifting. I checked with Captain Rod Sullivan, Pan-American's senior master.
We were hurtling at 160 miles an hour. On course and on time.
 All the clipper's passengers are veteran air travelers. They took this first voyage in their stride. By 9 p.m. some were retiring. By midnight the cabins darkened and most of us were fast asleep. The clipper shot through a clear sky in which a brilliant moon and sharp pointed stars shone brightly.
 I retired to my cabin to sleep on a deep soft mattress as the clipper flew on at 10,000 feet, 160 miles an hour.
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[[/1st article]]

[[2nd article]]
From New World To Old in 24 Hours
It's Painless Pioneering Aboard Atlantic Clipper-Plane Lands at Marseilles

The Dixie clipper landed at Marseille, France, today.  Last night passengers stopped at Lisbon, Portugal.  Among the 22 passengers on the first regular flight of the big Pan American Airways flying liner is Russell Sabor, 4950 Harriet avenue, who wrote this, his third story of the epochal passage, for The Journal.

By RUSSELL SABOR

Marseilles, June 30.-Skimming over the blue Mediterranean and under a cloudless sky in Pan American Airways' Dixie Clipper, I landed today at this famed southern port of France.

[[column 1]]
 Twenty-two passengers had spanned the Atlantic, stopped once at the Azores and again at Lisbon, Portugal, skirted the coast of wartorn Spain and dropped to the bay.
This morning we left the dazzling rooftops of Lisbon behind.  This afternoon the Republic of France greeted the American passengers on the first regular scheduled flight from America to Europe.
 I will be back in America on Independence day!
 In a day less than a week I will have spanned the Atlantic twice by air, transacted necessary business in Paris and have had a luxurious ride in Pan-American's latest airchild.
 I bade bon voyage to two of my fellow passengers, who leaving Marseilles on a globe circling tour.  I am about to board a special plane for Paris.
 Twenty-three hours after the big 41-ton Dixie rose from the waters of Southbay, we sighted the blue, hazy line of the horizon that was Europe.
 Forty minutes later we dropped toward the rooftops of Lisbon, and to the Tagus river where the Pan-Amercan docks teemed with a welcoming throng.
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 Lisbon was dazzling white in the late afternoon sun.  Domed churches are massed in the city, their spires like carelessly grouped alabaster beehives.
 We stepped onto dry land
 There was something unreal about the landing — a quality we could not quite grasp as of this world.  Here we 22 were, standing on old world soil, in eight minutes less than 24 hours after leaving America.
 We left the luxury of the clipper's cabins to go to a hotel for the night.
Most of us saw Lisbon last night.  Its broad plazas filled with a quiet, orderly people, whose most striking characteristic is their small stature and their quiet dignity.
 Turned in at midnight for a 5 a.m. departure for Marseilles.
 The two hours we spent at Horta, the Azores, were filled with greetings and congratulations in a celebration that made electric the key city of the islands.
 We left Horta, lifting into a clear sky, to fly eastward toward the coast of Europe.  Seven thousand feet above the waters of the Atlantic, we cut through light, lacey clouds.
 This is painless pioneering.
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[[/2nd article]]