Amelia was a modern woman for her time, relied on logic, science and technology while promoting women’s rights, leading and participating with many activist groups. She had gone to university, excelled and followed her passion to became the first female aviator, who was also the first to fly alone across the Atlantic. Speculation on how she was able to achieve all this on her own was the main topic of conversation that surrounded her but she never paid it any mind. She was happily married to George Putnam and that was all she had to say on the matter, ever.
In these last moments she reached into her pocket and produced a small book of psalms. She found comfort in prayer though she never really enjoyed the whole idea of church. Hands shaky, she tried to open the book and say her favorite psalm, one last time. Out from between the pages fell a folded piece of paper.
“My Dearest Amelia,
I can’t get the idea of you and Fred Noonan out of my head. I know you’ve said countless times that you weren’t together but my gut says otherwise. I’ve supported you through your career, I’ve been your lap dog this whole time. I went as far as setting that fire so that we could have the money to move to California and this is the thanks I get! It’s a slap in the face to a faithful man. When we married, you made sure that I knew we were partners, equals and not bound by any conventional ties… I didn’t know you also meant the ties of our hearts and our bed. I hope in your final moments that you think of me, the love we shared and how much you meant to me. Your career and your incessant need to fight for equality has brought you to where you are now. The men you think were colleagues wanted more than anything to be rid of you and so your coordinates were tampered with…You will never find Howland Island, I made sure of it. I hope noonycakes can comfort you during this time and I pray that your corpses are devoured by sharks or never found. I hope one day after you have passed that your spirit will forgive me.
Goodbye dear wife,
The engine began to sputter and the plane began to smoke as the last of the fuel was burning. The alarms were going off, loudly beeping as if this racket would help them in any way at this point. “We are losing altitude” she said to Fred. “You have been a great navigator my love!” she yelled over the wind picking up as they dropped from the sky. “Don’t lose hope!” he shouted back. She carefully lifted her hand with the note over her shoulder. Fred grabbed it and tried to open it “No need! We aren’t going to make it to Howland Island, George knows about us. He changed the coordinates, and we will die here.” there was no need to turn around, she knew the color had drained from Fred’s face. She was sorry that he would meet his end by the hand of a cuckold. Amelia focused on straightening the plane as best as she could but they continued to drop rapidly. “Brace for impact!” she screamed and in a flash, they were in the water.