Across New York's Floyd Bennett Field at 8 o'clock one morning last week walked a nervous little man wearing a dinner jacket with grey slacks and a tennis sweater. Struggling into a heavy flying suit on top of that, he stepped into a green and orange monoplane, soared away. "Where's that fellow going?" asked a workman. "To London," replied a bystander. Grunted the workman: "The guy must be nuts."
"The guy" was Captain James A. Mollison, Britain's No. 1 flyer, off on his fourth transatlantic flight. To explain his costume he smirked: "I don't...
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