In Belgium as well, I was received with a warmth which reflected more than simply a passing curiosity in a trans-Atlantic flight, but which was rather a demonstration by the people of their interest in a new means of transportation which eventually would bring still closer together the new world and the old. Their welcome, too, will be a cherished memory for all time. In England, I experienced one final unforgettable demonstration of friendship for an American. That spontaneous wonderful reception during my brief visit seemed typical of what I had always heard of the good sportsmanship of the English. My words to all those friends in Europe are inadequate, but my feelings of appreciation are boundless. CONCLUSION When I was contemplating the flight to Paris I looked forward to making a short tour of Europe with especial regard to the various airports and aeronautical activities. After I arrived, however, the necessity for returning to America in the near future became apparent and, after a consultation with Ambassador Houghton, who informed me that President Coolidge was sending the cruiser _Memphis_ to Cherbourg for my return journey to America, I flew the “Spirit of St. Louis” to Gosport early one morning. There it was dismantled and crated, through the courtesy of the Royal Air Force which also placed a Woodcock pursuit plane at my disposal. I returned to London in the Woodcock and a few days later flew to Paris in another R.A.F. machine of the same type. I remained overnight in Paris, and early the next morning flew a French Breguet to Cherbourg where the cruiser _Memphis_ was waiting. Admiral Burrage met me at the dock, and after going aboard the _Memphis_ I became acquainted with Captain Lackey and the officers of the ship. During the trip across they extended every courtesy and did everything within their power to make the voyage a pleasant one. A description of my welcome back to the United States would, in itself, be sufficient to fill a larger volume than this. I am not an author by profession, and my pen could never express the gratitude which I feel towards the American people. The voyage up the Potomac and to the Monument Grounds in Washington; up the Hudson River and along Broadway; over the Mississippi and to St. Louis--to do justice to these occasions would require a far greater writer than myself. Washington, New York, and finally St. Louis and home. Each of these cities has left me with an impression that I shall never forget, and a debt of gratitude which I can never repay. PUBLISHER’S NOTE When Lindbergh came to tell the story of his welcome at Paris, London, Brussels, Washington, New York and St. Louis he found himself up against a tougher problem than flying the Atlantic. He wanted to speak from his heart his appreciation for all the kindness and enthusiasm that had been shown him. But when he began to write he found that fitting words would not come. Somehow it wasn’t a story for him to tell.