The skill that carried Charles Lindbergh across the Atlantic was knowing exactly where he was with no landmark in sight. When he landed in Paris in May 1927, at twenty-five, he lost the ability to control where anyone else thought he was, and he never got it back. He was a congressman's son who watched his father get called disloyal for opposing a war. He was a college dropout who bought a surplus airplane before he had ever flown one alone, an Army cadet who finished first in a class that washed out almost everyone, and an airmail pilot who bailed out of four airplanes in two years. Then came thirty-three and a half hours alone over the ocean in a plane with no radio and no forward windshield, and a fame so sudden that within days his own account of the flight belonged to a newspaper. He had forty-seven years left. They brought a marriage to the writer and pilot Anne Morrow, the kidnapping and murder of their first son, tours of Nazi Germany's air force, a German medal he kept, an antisemitic speech he never took back, dozens of combat missions flown as a civilian, a Pulitzer Prize, a second life campaigning for endangered species, and families in Europe that the public learned about only after his death. For readers ages 13 to 17.