I suppose some people are just born to fly.  How else would you explain the fascination of airplanes that Anderson possessed as a child and was adamant that he would one day, not only fly, but actually pilot his own plane?  The problem, however, was that Anderson was black and no one would teach a young black man to fly.  Anderson had saved enough money for flying lessons, undeterred, he attended aviation ground school, learned airplane mechanics, and hung around airports just to pick up information from the pilots when possible.  Anderson concluded that the only way he was going to be able to fly was by owning his own plane.  So he bought one—a Velie Monocoupe.  He was permitted to join a flying club, but instruction was not part of the deal, so the best he could do was taxi his plane around the field.  He would periodically gun the engine, which gave him a little lift, and it was not long before this novice pilot was taking off and landing safely.  He was teaching himself how to fly.  From there, Anderson began to amass hours and gain valuable cross country experience by accompanying a club member on weekend flights to Atlantic City to visit the member’s mother.  The club member had the experience, but no plane.  Anderson had a plane, but no experience.  So the two got together and spent the weekends in Atlantic City.  Thus, Anderson was able to earn his pilots license in 1929... 

Read the article in its entirety in the April 2015 

Bevil newsletter, which accompanies the cover.