I barely had time to react before the plane had righted itself again—but in that brief moment, my engine had filled with gasoline and started to sputter.
If the fuel didn’t burn off the engine in time, I would go down.
Panic seized me as I tried to keep control of the aeroplane.
My mind raced with possibilities as the engine continued to sputter and the plane lost altitude. What would I do if I hit the water? The waves were treacherous. Would anyone find me before I succumbed to drowning or hypothermia?
It all happened in seconds, but it felt like an eternity as I said a prayer under my breath, trying to remain calm. My only hope was to try to land on the water and use my aeroplane as a buoy until I could be rescued.
As I watched the oncoming water and my engine continued to sputter, disappointment gripped me like a vice, sucking the air from my lungs. All I could think about was the money and time we had wasted. How would I tell Mama and Daddy that we couldn’t save their orphanage? How would I pay back Luc? Or Mr. Blériot?
With no choice left, I looked over the edge of the plane, trying to find a smooth patch of water.
Seconds before my wheels touched the first wave, the gasoline burned off the engine, it stopped sputtering, and my plane started to rise again. I was so close to the waves that a spray of water hit my face, but relief overwhelmed me as I threw my head back and yelled with excitement.
Perhaps I wouldn’t fail, after all.
I climbed the Blériot higher. I was so close to reaching my goal, I could feel the anticipation growing.
The aeroplane was now at about two thousand feet, and the clouds finally parted, allowing me to see the white, sandy shores of France.
My heart soared, and I briefly closed my eyes to offer a prayer of thanksgiving. I never felt closer to God than when I was in an aeroplane. Here, it didn’t matter which religion was right or wrong—it was just me, God, and the sky. No one to answer to. Nothing to analyze or explain. Just a weightless peace and an assurance that I was doing what I was created to do.
And right now, I needed to find the field in Calais where Grace and Luc were waiting.
It didn’t take long. There were hundreds of people waiting for my arrival. Photographers, movie cameras, reporters, and curious citizens. Louis Blériot had made the first successful flight across the English Channel just three years ago, and many other men had followed. I was the first woman to attempt the flight—and I had made it.
Joy filled my heart to bursting.
Thankfully, there was a clear path for me to land the plane. I did it with ease—almost second nature.
The first person I saw was Luc. He was grinning as he sprinted toward me. He had never looked more handsome or attractive. The sunshine made his eyes sparkle.
I removed my gloves and canvas jacket and started to climbout of the aeroplane, but Luc reached up and put his hands around my waist, lifting me out. When he set me on my feet, we were face to face.
He shook his head and continued to grin. “Félicitations,Hope. You will be the most famous woman in the world when news gets out about your amazing feat.” He motioned to the surging crowd. “This is just the beginning.”
I couldn’t contain my excitement—so I threw my arms around Luc and kissed him.
When I pulled back, I hoped to see surprise or wonder on his face—but all I saw was his unadulterated excitement.
He hadn’t realized my kiss was romantic.
I didn’t have time to contemplate his reaction or dwell on my disappointment because I was swarmed by cheering Frenchmen who lifted me onto their shoulders, chanting, “Courageux! Courageux!” Laughing, I tried to keep my balance and look over the heads of the crowd to find Grace.
She was there in the distance, behind her camera. When she saw me looking at her, she lowered the camera and ran across the field, a brilliant smile on her face.
“Let me down,” I said to the men holding me. “Please!”
The second my feet hit the grass, I started to run toward Grace. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t remember being this happy before. The force of our hug took my breath away, and I felt like we were one, sharing this moment.
“Hope!” Grace cried as she held me tight. “You made it! You’re alive!”
I laughed as I squeezed her back.
I had made it—and this was just the beginning.
The second part of our plan would start when we boarded theTitanic.
