National Geographic : 1962 Jul
Posing as sidewalk artists in Paris, Nell Johnson (left), and Lucy Langohr compete with professionals behind the Cathe dral of Notre Dame. Here, with chalk and crayon, they sketch the Madonna and Child. Mite box and multilingual sign in vite contributions. The girls collected a crowd but only 3 francs (60 cents). They used part of the money to buy a newspaper from an Eng lish boy who was earning his way to Italy. They also bought ice cream from a vendor who had been their heaviest contributor. Dazzling Eiffel Tower Seems Poised for a Trip Into Space Girders gilded with light pierce the Paris night to loft a beacon 984 feet. From this height stu dents surveyed the vast pano rama of the French capital. Though a guidebook said they might sight the spires of Chartres Cathedral 55 miles away, poor visibility deprived the visitors of such a view. Trademark of Paris, the tower rose for the Universal Exhibi tion of 1889. Street lamps scatter stars along the Pont d'I6na; Avenue de New York (foreground) runs past the park of the Palais de Chaillot. One day Mary Wohlford left her purse-it held her passport, air tickets, cash, and trav eler's checks-in a car of the Metro, the sub way of the French capital. In three days it came back to her intact. We found Paris an extraordinary epitome of man's achievements-and problems. There was sobering realization, when confronted with the Winged Victory of Samothrace, that as many as 23 centuries ago man was as fac ile in artistic expression as he is today. Even more sobering was a visit to Su preme Headquarters, Allied Powers in Eu rope, where a dapper French officer lectured on what would be the Allied response to "someone pushing the war button." On our last day in Paris, Mike Andes and I paid the price for oversleeping. When we 122 woke, we found our airport bus was long gone. In panic, we dressed, packed, and rushed out to find a cab. "The airport," I told the driver desperately. "Allez tres, tres vite!" The taxi screeched away from the curb, but even 70 miles an hour was not enough. We reached Orly just as our jet lifted off. Discouraged, we went to the ticket office and talked our way onto the next flight. We had no idea how lucky we were. "You actually made it!" our friends ex claimed to us in London. We wondered why they were so surprised. "Haven't you heard? The Algerian gen erals are in revolt, and President De Gaulle has closed all French airports. You got out on the last flight!"