PARIS, May 21, 1927 (UP) -- A crowd of 500 persons awaited Capt. Charles Lindbergh at Le Bourget Field at 3:10 p.m. today. The meteorological service and pilots of London-to-Paris planes arriving here reported a 45-mile and wind from west to east which would act as a powerful pusher to Lindbergh's plane if he were within its scope.
Parisians, men, women and children, took advantage of the Saturday holiday to go to the vicinity of La Bourget in droves. Hundreds of them rode bicycles. Aviation experts suggested this afternoon that because Lindbergh is not a skilled navigator he might be far from his course and might miss France altogether, arriving in some other European country.
United States Ambassador Myron T. Herrick and Director Fortant of the French aeronautic service will greet Lindbergh if he arrives.
Betting on the airman was increasing today as the hour of his scheduled arrival approached. Odds were 10 to 1 against the lonely airman.
Having recovered from the first shock of amazement that any man would attempt what Lindbergh was expected to achieve today, American residents in Paris from Gen. John J. Pershing and Ambassador Herrick down to the flapper tournists were rooting for him to win.
"Four sandwiches in his plane and only a couple hours sleep before he started," exclaimed a youth of unmistakably American environment last night. "My Gawd!"
That more or less suggests the attitude of Paris in general toward the unassuming daring of Lindbergh.
Did anyone want to bet that Lindbergh wouldn't sleep in Paris tonight? Then, the bet was made. Did anyone want to drink a toast to the lonely airman and to his success? Then the toast was drunk. Did anyone think that guy didn't have all the nerve in the world? Then the thinker of such profane thoughts was cursed with abysmal misunderstanding of men.
And would the Americans celebrate his victory?
They would.
Cables of congratulations to Lindbergh began arriving early today at LeBourget Field. They came from the United States.
