ようこそ、｢空へ、未来へ｣。

このブログは母（きよこ）と息子(ダニエル)の二人で共同作成しています。きよこは、弁護士、ダニエルはパイロット志望の七歳です。

飛行に関することを読んだり調べたりするのが、私達の共通の趣味です。リンドバーグの飛行回想録、｢翼よ、あれがパリの灯だ」は、二人の愛読書となりました。

インタビューを通じての二人の自己紹介は、一番最初の記事、「ようこそ、ぼくたちのブログへ」をご覧下さい。

このブログでは、飛行にこだわることなく、日常の些細な出来事なども含め、多彩なテーマについて書いていきたいと思います。

日本語が第二国語であるダニエルにとって、日本語でのブログ作成に取り組む事は、良い勉強になるでしょう。

尚、英語版も立ち上げました。www.lovelindy.wordpress.com　こちらの方も、どうぞ宜しく。

 きよこは専門自体は法律ですが、副業としてライターもつとめ、雑誌や新聞等に記事を掲載してきました。　

http://blog.livedoor.jp/sayakakandajp/ (新聞のコラムに掲載されたエッセイを収録）

どんな契機で、日英両語のブログを立ち上げることになったか、多くを語る代わりに、過去に書いたエッセイ二本を下で御紹介します。(双方とも、既にブログの記事内で紹介しました。）

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　碧空に投げ放つ恋文

地上に足を下ろした瞬間、波が押し寄せてきた。幾千もの群集が一目散に疾走してくる。「人の海に溺れる」、彼はそう錯覚した。パリの灯りの中、半時間もの間、彼は肩車でかつぎ廻された。英雄の誕生を全世界が狂喜して迎えた。ベルギーの国王からミズーリの酒場で賭けをする男達まで、誰もが息を殺し勝利の瞬間を待ち構えていたのだ。

チャールズ・リンドバーグは、ニューヨークからパリまで単独無着陸飛行に成功した。1927年、飛行自体が危険だった時代に多くの冒険家が大西洋横断に挑み命を落とした。飛行に費やしたのは33時間半。「一人で飛ぶとは無謀だよ」。人は彼の愚かさを危ぶんだ。だが無名の航空郵便士は睡魔との格闘を続けながら単独で操縦を続け、遂にエッフェル塔を目のあたりにしたのだ。

「翼よ、あれがパリの灯だ」。リンドバーグ自身が著したこの飛行回想録に11 歳の少女は没頭した。それから長い歳月を経て母となった私とパイロットを志す息子、二人にとってリンドバーグは英雄となった。息子のクラスでは生徒各自が希望の職業についてリサーチを重ね研究発表を行った。 それを契機に息子はリンドバーグ家と縁の深いパイロット、スペンス・キャンベル氏を訪ね、彼と共にシュミレーターでの飛行操縦を体験する機会にも恵まれた。

「歴史は一夜にして創られた」。一挙に有名人となったリンドバーグの偉業について多くの人がそう語る。だが息子と私はかぶりを振る。翼が空に舞う瞬間よりもずっと前に歴史は幕を開けていたのだ。飛行の資金集めに奔走した時。飛行機の機体構造を細かく指定した時。25歳の青年は緻密で完璧な計画を立て飛行に挑んだ。成功とはプロセスの段階で始まるものなのだ。

リンドバーグは「チェックリストの人」として知られる。飛行のみならず5 人の子供の育児においても重要事項を書き出し幾度も慎重に見直すのが彼の方針だった。いや、それが彼の生き方そのものだったのかも知れない。「リンドバーグのチェックリストを忘れないで！」バイオリンを弾き始める息子に私が声を投げかける。「小指は硬くない？」「肘は上がっていない？」リストの一つ一つを再確認させる。「離陸！」6 歳の飛行家は空に舞い上がる。

母子で空を仰ぐ時、パリの灯を浴びたシルバーの小型飛行機、スピリット・オブ・セントルイス号が眩しく映る。そして、それを操る青年飛行士の澄んだ瞳も。ああリンドバーグ、息子と私はこれからも貴方へのラブレターを大空へと飛ばし続けることだろう。

                                   SOARING SKYWARD WITH DANIEL 

The lights of Paris cast a glow on the silver monoplane.  No sooner had one foot touched the ground, a human sea swept toward the lone flier.  More than 150,000 spectators were running toward him.   Countless hands seized him —his legs, his arms, his body— and ardently carried him around.  Thousands of voices mingled, filling the air. 

 It was a defining moment in aviation history.  In May 1927, Charles Lindbergh made the first nonstop solo flight from New York to Paris in the Spirit of St. Louis.  It was a death-defying voyage.  In the days when air travel was still in its infancy, the race to fly across the Atlantic Ocean had claimed the lives of multiple adventurers.  But the fearless “Lone Eagle” donned helmets and goggles, climbed into the cockpit, and soared into the air.  Flying through storms and battling unrelenting fatigue, the twenty-five-year-old aviator conquered the journey spanning 3,610 miles.  The flight took thirty-three hours and twenty-nine minutes.   After circling the Eiffel Tower, Lindbergh triumphantly flew into the glow of lights at Le Bourget Airfield.  More than 150,000 Parisians had congregated to greet the American hero. 

Lindbergh entered my life when I was a fifth grader in my native Japan.  I immersed myself in Tusbasa-yo Are-ga Pari-no-Hi-da (“Wings, Those are the Lights of Paris”) –the Japanese version of The Spirit of St. Louis, the aviation pioneer’s memoir depicting his conquest of the air.  As I traced the legendary flight, that extraordinary night would come alive in my mind, with the sights and smells of Le Bourget Airfield.  Not understanding a word of English, I never dreamed that I would one day live in Lindbergh’s homeland and reacquaint myself with his memoir in the original language.

Imagine my surprise and joy when the aviation world captured Daniel, my seven-year-old son.  Sharing the longing for the sky, Daniel and I spent a whole summer devouring every book we could find about our hero.  We were especially thrilled to discover a rare book illustrating Lindbergh’s 1931 visit to Japan, including my hometown, Osaka.  Daniel and I also labored for weeks to put together a book titled Lindbergh’s Adventures and presented it at the summer project exhibition at his Japanese school.  Shortly afterward, my bilingual son plunged into another “Lindbergh project,” this time at his American school.  He and his classmates conducted research on their individually chosen careers and gave presentations.  Sporting a makeshift pilot uniform for his presentation, Daniel answered questions about the flying career and proudly displayed his Japanese book.  During the course of his research, Daniel had the privilege of interviewing Spence Campbell, a pilot and flight instructor.  Spence had trained Erik Lindbergh, an aviator known for his own 2002 transatlantic flight recreating his grandfather ’s epic voyage.  Finding a connection to his hero, however remote, enthralled Daniel.

Working on these school projects taught us more about life than aviation.  From beyond the sky, Lindbergh continues to speak, stirring deep emotions within us and giving us a fresh appreciation of the timeless lesson: hard work and determination lays the foundation for success — and ultimately, for a meaningful contribution to mankind.  History was made overnight, proclaim some authors, referring to the span of thirty-three and one-half hours that gave worldwide acclaim to an obscure airmail pilot.   No, no, no —Daniel and I shake our heads.   The legend began long before the pilot’s ascent into the air.  When he visited one investor after another, persuading them to support his venture.   When he painstakingly helped design an ideal plane, with a keen eye for detail.  When he cut out redundant pages from his books of maps, discarding every ounce of extra weight so that the plane could carry additional fuel.   Lindbergh toiled tirelessly and meticulously as if to perfect the art of planning. 

Going through checklists remained vital part of Lindbergh’s life.  Portraying how “methodical and exacting” her father was, Reeve Lindbergh, Charles’ daughter, even devotes one whole chapter of her memoir to his embrace of checklists.  Embodying the aviator’s quest for perfection, checklist has become a key word in our life as well.   “Remember Lindbergh’s checklist!”   I exclaim each time my son embarks on his daily violin practice.  Remember what he must have done before the take-off?  Daniel and I go through all the items on the list, one by one: Is your pinky smiling?  Is your elbow low enough?  “Ready?  Take off!”  My little pilot soars in the air.  Daniel may never set a world record and bask in the spotlight of fame. Nonetheless, I hope he will pursue excellence in even seemingly mundane tasks, whether it be practicing the violin or doing homework, so he can smile serenely to himself, deriving quiet joys from little victories.  After all, how can he brace himself for all his hardships and struggles without first taking up life’s small challenges?  

 “I’ll be a pilot, no matter what,” declares Daniel, beaming a smile.  During our bedtime ritual of reading, he and I once again trace our hero’s journey in The Spirit of St. Louis.  One of the parenthood joys is helping our children mold their dreams into reality as they lift their way into the future; and that process reenergizes and rejuvenates us, fueling a desire to live more intensely and purposefully.  Replete with the engine’s roar, the vast expanse of water, a radiant sky, a rich chorus of voices, Lindbergh’s story of courage and triumph resonates powerfully for us, propelling us to new heights. 

 I pore over a mother-and-son photo in Lindbergh’s biography.  Posing for the press shortly before the legendary flight, the pilot and his mother stand side-by-side and smile faintly in front of the Spirit of St. Louis.  Evangeline Lindbergh must have been acutely aware that her son was risking his life.  But she patted him on the shoulder, wished him well, and returned to her teaching job.  “My heart and soul is with my boy on his perilous journey,” she commented to the press.  Indeed, she stayed airborne; in her mind, she traversed the endless stretch of sea with her son.  I, too, will explore the far reaches of the sky with you, Daniel.  You may not hear thousands of feverish Parisians rooting for your success; but a mother’s internal cheerleading voice could be just as fiercely powerful.  Even more so. 

 Looking up, Daniel and I see a gray sky transform itself into a transparent blue sky.  And in the midst of that sky flies a gray-white monoplane that once glistened in the lights of Paris.  In the tiny cockpit, embracing the solitude that envelops him, sits an earnest young flier, his eyes fixed on his goal.  Daniel and I squint into the light.  Oh Lindbergh, we will keep crafting our letters and sending them skyward.

 

Charles Lindbergh