Red State Feminist Blog:

The Slipstream File: Mildred Hemmon Carter

Red State Feminists wish all of our readers a happy and healthy 2012! Now, we are not going to start the new year by making South Carolina jokes, even though the South Carolina Republicans voted for the biggest joke of them all, Newt Gingrich. All we can say is that the Floridians apparently know a scumbag when they see one, whereas vision is not so clear closer to the Mason-Dixon line.

Anyhow, enough of that. As readers know, Red State Feminists like to rescue important stories from the slipstream of history. Today we pluck from the slipstream Mildred Hemmon Carter. Her name graced the news for one day in connection with the new George Lucas film, Red Tails, about the Tuskegee airmen--black airmen during World War II. The show unsurprisingly focuses on the black men, who with bravery and skill fought not only the enemy, but also those within the military who thought that blacks did not deserve a place in the cockpit. Fortunately, the military higher-ups were willing to disregard traditional discrimination if it meant that new talent could be brought to bear against the Axis. The fight was more important than keeping discrimination in place.

Or was it? What about women who were skilled airmen? Allied women, including American women, were primarily relegated to transporting planes from factories to airbases during World War II. Only the Soviets used women as military pilots (they were called the Night Witches).

Mildred Hemmon Carter was the first black woman in Alabama to earn her pilot's license. We'll let her story, told by her husband, one of the Tuskegee airman, take over (as reported in this article by CNN):

Mildred was well on her way to a successful aviation career. She learned to fly under C. Alfred "Chief" Anderson, the chief instructor at Tuskegee and the man considered the father of black aviation.

With Anderson's help, Mildred became the first female pilot to join the state's Civil Air Patrol Squadron in 1942. But she was never called to go on patrol; racism, she learned, had gotten in the way. Determined to fly for her country, she applied to become a WASP, a member of the groundbreaking Women Airforce Service Pilots who ferried planes from factories to airfields. (Women of any race were barred from flying combat at that time.) By then, Mildred had her business degree and well over 100 hours of flying. She was named "Miss Tuskegee Army Flying School" by the airfield newsletter, and Anderson ranked her among his best pilots.

But the rejection came swiftly. "The U.S. government does not have plans at this time to include colored female pilots in the WASP." Shaken, she called Herbert [soon to be her husband, Herbert Carter].

"Mil, what is it?" he said.

"It's race again," she said.

He rushed to her side. She ripped up the letter. He hugged her.

"Keep the faith, Sweet. We'll get there."

Her rejection made him more determined to succeed. "I thought, 'Well, damn it, I'll show them that we can do it.' "

They held each other's hands.

Mildred entered college at 15 and earned her business degree before she was 20. During that time, she kept seeing all these young men by the dozens apply to become pilots and thought to herself, "I can do that." On February 1, 1941, she entered history, becoming the first black woman in the state to earn her pilot's license. A month later, flying solo, she came in for a landing at Tuskegee. As she set down the plane, she saw a commotion and a throng of photographers. She was told somebody wanted to meet her.

"How's flying?" asked first lady Eleanor Roosevelt, who had come to the airfield to publicly support the project. A photographer captured the young female aviator standing next to the first lady, who towered over the 5-foot-5 pilot. The first lady's visit garnered headlines across the country. Mrs. Roosevelt hopped in a plane with Chief Anderson, and the two flew together for 30 minutes. The first lady's message was unequivocal: Blacks were more than capable of flying.

"Well, you can fly all right," she told Anderson.

Though Mildred never flew for the military, she went on to mentor female African-American fighter pilots. She'd tell audiences to never stop dreaming, to leave the world better than before.

"I'd be an astronaut today," she'd say. Last February, 70 years after she earned her pilot's license, she received a letter from the government. Again she read it with astonishment, but this time she didn't rip it up. She'd been declared a member of the WASPs and given a medal with the inscription: "The First Women in History to Fly America."

"Look, Geno [her nickname for her husband Herbert]," she said. "They sent this to me. Why?"

"Because you're a Tuskegee Airman."

She paused. "Awww, seriously?"

"They've finally come to realize you made contributions, too. Better late than never."

Unfortunately, Mildred died before the screening of the film Red Tails. But her courage and her fortitude in the face of discrimination against women and against women of color, is inspiring. We Red State Feminists salute Mildred Hemmon Carter! Let her name not be forgotten by we who come after!

January 29, 2012 by Red State Gal