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Soaring (not WAR...ing) in 1940's  Page 12     Hattie Meyers Junkin 

As soon as I felt like I was on a macadam road, my foot stopped jiggling. I was Soaring. I was 2000ft. higher than the 500 ft. take off point. There lay beautiful Chemung Valley like a green and yellow patchwork quilt with a silver thread, the river running thru the fertile fields. The "peanut vendors" whistle was the proper pitch. God was in Heaven. Crabbing a little sideways I did a routine over Charlie Gale the official timekeeper, could feel the lessening push on the wing tips. I kinda took a look behind me, to be sure "Buck" wasn't flying me..visibly.. My little "buck age 12, was now down at the airport waiting to supervise my good landing..and be proud of me. charlie Gale waved me to goin and land..How I wished to "hog" the glider for some more time..So, I earned my FAI License No. 37 and the First for Women in the U.S.A. at 10.17 a.m August 12, 1931. I always had trouble getting down as a little gust could boost my 107 lb. to a landing in a cabbage patch. So I learned to cut my altitude by diving little dips. "How do you stay up?" the constant query by the non air minded. This day I wondered if I could get down where I should. I waltzed the glider thru some 360's, a couple of 180's (yes, to the right and left]) made a good landing near Earl Southee dear friend and referee. Wot a flight! I was strong again, so was l ttle [[little]] "Buck". As I climbed out, and squealed for joy, "Kiddie" Ralph Barrows our Massachusetts WACO dealer flew over me, revved his motor in pilot's language kicked over his rudder and headed on his journey. WA.A.A.Ko!! My loved ones were all there with me.