"The tactics of the Feminists"

CLXXXVIII

The accolades poured in. 

She won the Harmon Trophy --- the first of three successive times --- as America’s Outstanding Airwoman for 1932. She was first given an honorary membership in the all-male National Aeronautical Association, and then named its Vice President, opening it to females. She was awarded the Legion of Honor by the French government. She lunched with the Pope. She dined with the Prince of Wales. The National Geographic Society awarded her a gold medal, presented by President Herbert Hoover, and Congress awarded her the Distinguished Flying Cross — both firsts for any woman.

Amelia’s already-busy schedule was so packed with appearances, luncheons, trips, flights, and other events that she had to schedule a friend who wanted to take her to lunch on her birthday in July on Christmas Eve, a full six months later to the day.

The Belvidere Daily Republican shouted the news from the rooftops. In other aviation news, the clumsy 12-engined Dornier X flying boat was lumbering its way across the mid-Atlantic

She loved the fan letters and basked in the positive Press. She also deeply appreciated Elinor Smith’s congratulatory visit. “You don’t know how much it means,” Amelia said honestly, “coming from you.”

Amelia arrived in Ireland with the clothes on her back, $20, and 50 first day covers so prized by philatelists

She had her detractors. The editors of The Aeroplane, a British periodical, teed off on her:

Mrs. G.P. Putnam, known professionally or for purposes of publicity as Miss Amelia Earhart . . . proves that in 1932 . . . a woman is capable of doing what a mere man did . . .   

The Aeroplane might have mocked Amelia in 1932, but more recently the editors have not been immune to the strange hold she keeps on the public imagination

A French aviation periodical praised her fulsomely, but ended their article with, 

“But can she bake cakes?” 

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Amelia laughed.

Amelia’s 1932 ticker-tape parade down New York’s “Canyon of Heroes.” The heroics were one thing, the boon to aviation another, but most of all, Amelia’s triumph gave people hope. It was 1932, and the depth of the Great Depression

The New York World bleated:

Amelia has given us a magnificent display of useless courage.

A Letter To The Editor from “Anon.” in a different periodical stated:

Only an average flyer, she has pushed herself to the forefront of women’s aviation by following the tactics of the Feminists . . . by flying a man-made machine kept in perfect mechanical order by men, she being trained by men and following a course laid out for her by men . . . she just barely managed to make the hop. 

Amelia, it is said, greatly appreciated this last jab, since she never considered herself a “feminist.” In fact, she rather disliked the term. When queried on her views she said without fuss, “It is my firm belief that a woman can do anything a man can do.” She called it, “modern thinking.”

It’s hard to imagine Charles Lindbergh receiving such letters.