First Flight

"As soon as he cut the line the balloon began to make the escape he had sought as it drifted north out of bullet range. It was then that the strange thing happened - the balloon after an initial descent began to rise - he could hear the whoosh of the hot air escaping, but how could that be - he was drifting away from the beach, over the bay and was being enveloped by the clouds."

Professor Robert Elkins sat in the library reading. Reading, researching, analyzing, and investigating historical events was his calling. That's what he had been doing for over 40 years. Occasionally he discovered answers to historic cunundrums. Most of the time, he simply shared his discoveries and insights with his students. That's what professors are supposed to do and Robert Elkins loved the pursuit of knowledge.

He was interested in the Spanish-American War, that "splendid little war" that had propelled Teddy Roosevelt into a hero's seat and eventually into the Presidency. He had a lecture to give and wanted to present a graphic picture of what it must have been like - different from the politics and diplomacy that is generally recorded in history texts and discussed "ad nauseum" in lectures.

He was reading about the 1st Balloon Corps and their deployment to Cuba after the sinking of the USS Maine. Sergeant Ivy Baldwin was an early innovator and in fact made the hot air balloon that was used at the Battle of Santiago. Professor Elkins read on and wondered about the character of Sergeant Baldwin. Baldwin had been a 27 year-old, newly married soldier who had built and experimented with a balloon that could hoist a soldier over a battlefield and be used for reconnaissance. His wife Catherine had just borne their first child when war with Spain was declared. Elkins drifted into a semi-comatose state as he was prone to do when imagining events that might have taken place.

* * * *

"Baldwin, will that thing fly," yelled Major Walters.
"Yes sir", answered the Sergeant, "can be ready to go in two hours."
"Well get it ready." "We need some help in figuring out where those bastards are."
Baldwin and his team prepared the balloon, tethered it with 300 feet of hemp and after receiving instructions about possible enemy emplacements, Baldwin began his ascent. To the southeast was a small ridge and at 300 feet he could easily observe any movement of the Spanish and report. The view was magnificent. A few clouds rolled by several hundred feet overhead and the jungle lushness of the island in July contrasted with the mountainous splendor he had so often seen in his past ascents in Colorado. After his momentary fascination with the spectacular landscape had passed, Sergeant Baldwin gathered his binoculars and peered toward the southeast. A light breeze blew from that direction and felt refreshing after his escape from the stagnant air of the jungle environment below.

At the top of the ridge about a half-mile away he could see movement. Suddenly, he heard the cacophony of rifle fire and bullets began to pierce the sky about him. Baldwin knew he had the information that was required. At the same moment several bullets penetrated Baldwin's basket and he felt a sharp pain in his upper leg. His pant leg became soaked with blood and the pain became more searing. Oh God, he thought as he sunk into the bottom of the basket and yanked open his trousers. Fear caused him to fumble with the trouser buttons as he struggled to examine the severity of the wound - a sigh of relief escaped his lips as he discovered that the bullet had only grazed his thigh - his manhood was intact! But boy! That thing sure hurt and blood was soaking the basket floor.

On the ground, the crew wrestled with the tether line in a futile attempt to pull Baldwin back to earth. The wind had picked up and the balloon was almost impossible to retrieve. Baldwin peered quickly over the side of the basket and recognized the difficulty that the ground team was having - meanwhile the intensity of the gunfire increased and several more rounds hit the balloon. The whooshing sound of hot air escaping was more frightening than the burning sensation in his leg. He knew the crew would not be able to pull him down before more rounds struck the balloon and his fate would be sealed. A mass of cloth, a shattered basket and a broken man would be all that was left. He decided to cut the tether and take his chance with the wind - maybe he would be blown to the north and with the balloon not too badly damaged at this point, he might make a survivable landing on the beach or just off shore.

As soon as he cut the line the balloon began to make the escape he had sought as it drifted north out of bullet range. It was then that the strange thing happened - the balloon after an initial descent began to rise - he could hear the whoosh of the hot air escaping, but how could that be - he was drifting away from the beach, over the bay and was being enveloped by the clouds. Sergeant Baldwin, weak from loss of blood and the fear of what awaited him slumped in the bottom of the basket to await his fate.

* * * *

Sergeant Baldwin looked up and found himself surrounded by light and bright metal surroundings - he could hear voices but couldn't make out words - probably Spanish he thought. He closed his eyes.

* * * *

Elkins recovered from his day dreaming as he contemplated the fate of Sergeant Baldwin. The dispatches from the field simply said that the balloon had been shot down by the Spanish and had drifted toward the open ocean.

Baldwin was believed to have been killed by either Spanish bullets or drowned at sea. Elkins wondered how the event had been reported in Baldwin's hometown newspaper. He searched through the records of the Rocky Mountain News to see if there were any reports about the fate of Baldwin. He could find nothing. The only bit of news that was reported during the month of July concerned the fate of a woman and child whose home had been demolished by a sudden twister. The story caught his eye as he read about Catherine Baldwin and her infant son that had been caught up in the winds after their small cabin had been destroyed. There was no record of the bodies being recovered.

* * * *

Sergeant Baldwin lay silently - listening. He didn't dare open his eyes - but it certainly wasn't Spanish that was being spoken. He'd heard enough since his arrival in Cuba to be able to recognize the sound even if he did not understand the meanings. He opened his eyes slowly and standing at his side was Catherine holding his infant son.

"Is that you honey?" he asked.
"Yes dear, I'm here."
"Why are you here - where are we?"
"You need to rest dear, it's a long story, but we are safe." Baldwin gazed out a nearby window and watched a small globe slowly fade in the distance.

* * * *

Elkins contemplated the coincidences he had discovered. It would make a great lecture - but what could one make of it - just a story discovered by a professor with nothing better to do. He decided that he'd use the material to discuss the fate of an innovator in a long since forgotten war. History has many twists and turns he mused and drifted once again into that state of semi-conscious thinking when he contemplated the mysteries of the past. He was aware of the library fan blowing gently on his cheek when he saw the bright light and shiny metal surfaces that surrounded him. As he gazed toward the bright lights he could barely discern the figures, but he could make out the silhouettes of a man and a woman holding a small child approaching him.

* * * *

The front page of the Rocky Mountain News carried the story of a freak twister that had destroyed the Denver library and resulted in the unexplained disappearance of Professor Robert Elkins.