I was researching another writing project in 1999 when I came across the story of Gertrude Tompkins Silver. Digging into her story, I grew to like and admire a woman who has been presumed dead since 1944. She haunts every page of this book.
Hers is the amazing story of a woman overcoming a lifelong handicap during a few magical minutes in the sky. It is also a uniquely American story, resonating with our desire for fair play and our cheers for the underdog. We want Gertrude’s stutter to be cured, and we also want the WASPs to be recognized and honored for their unique contribution. These intrepid fliers were overlooked and discriminated against for too many years, yet there is no question that they changed America’s attitude about women pilots.
Gertrude’s sister, Elizabeth Tompkins Whittall, lived in Vero Beach, Florida. When I began my interviews and correspondence with her in 2002 she was 93. In conversations and subsequent correspondence, she proved to be full of life and very open about the family history. Her memoir, From There to Here, provides many insights into her family and into Gertrude’s life. Elizabeth died in 2010 at 101.
My interviews with Elizabeth and with Ken and Laura Whittall-Scherfee were the basis for this book. Ken and Laura live in California, and it was my pleasure to spend time with them recording their memories, the family history, and the speculation as to what may have happened to Gertrude. Over the years we exchanged frequent communication by phone and mail. They read this manuscript for accuracy in 2015, as did some of Laura’s family, all relatives of Gertrude.
Henry Silver, Gertrude’s widower husband and Vreeland Tompkins’s “second son,” succeeded Vreeland as president of Smooth-On Inc. in 1950 and continued in that capacity until his death in 1964, at age 61. Henry never remarried, and his daughter, Ann Vreeland Wood, says he mourned Gertrude until the day he died.
Ann Vreeland Wood never met her stepmother. Henry adopted her as a baby, and she was raised by him in the MacDougal Street apartments until his death. She dropped the Silver from her name and goes by Ann Vreeland Wood.
Ann said there were “so many stories, including one that Gertrude was on her way home to take care of me when she crashed.” She said many of them were designed to protect her from the knowledge of the circumstances surrounding her birth. Ann lives in New Mexico with her husband. She’s an avid birdwatcher.
Vreeland Tompkins, Gertrude’s father, died in 1957, and her mother, Laura, lived to be 91 and died in 1977. Gertrude’s sister Margaret Tompkins Wade died in 1976.
I was fortunate to have begun this project when some of the original WASPs were still attending reunions and staying in communication with one another. As I interviewed them, they referred me to others who knew Gertrude Tompkins, creating a network of informants.
I interviewed Duncan Miller, Gertrude’s fellow pilot in Brownsville, by telephone at his home in Vacaville, California, where he owned six planes, including a fully restored BT-13 Vibrator, one of the planes Gertrude flew and disliked during basic training.
Many of the tales of Gertrude’s life as a WASP came from women who flew with her or knew her while in the WASPs, including Mickey Axton and Winifred Wood. Their interviews were a delight, casting light on a unique period when women reached for the sky. After the WASP era, it would be several decades before women pilots would once again be in cockpits and at the controls in a military setting. Mickey Axton lived in Arizona and died in 2010. Win Wood lived near Palm Springs and died in 2009.
Gertrude’s WASP training, service, and search are also supported by military documents.
Fewer than 100 WASPs are still living at the time of this writing, but the memories of those who have passed are kept alive by their children, grandchildren, and by institutions dedicated to WASP history. The WASPs were finally recognized by Congress in 1977 and were granted benefits similar to those of other World War II veterans. In 2002 the first WASP was allowed interment in Arlington National Cemetery, although in 2015 these privileges were withdrawn by the secretary of the army. After pressure from families of WASPs as well as current female military pilots, WASP Elaine D. Harmon was allowed burial in Arlington on September 5, 2016.
In 2010 Laura Whittall-Scherfee was the recipient of the Congressional Gold Medal on behalf of Gertrude. This gathering of several hundred family members and WASPs provided long-overdue recognition to the WASPs for their service during World War II. The two-day event began with a memorial service for the 38 WASPs who died in service to their country. A family member for each of the missing sat on the front row. One by one as each name was read aloud, a family representative placed a red rose on a pedestal. Laura Whittall-Scherfee was proud to be the family representative for Gertrude. “It was an experience I will never forget,” she said. The memorial service occurred at the Air Force Memorial in Arlington, Virginia, and culminated with the air force “missing man” formation flying overhead. The Congressional Gold Medal was awarded the next day in a ceremony in the Rotunda of the US Capitol.
On December 3, 2015, the US secretary of defense, Ash Carter, for the first time authorized American women for combat. It was recognition that the thousands of women who served in Iraq and Afghanistan—many of whom were killed or wounded—were in combat whether designated for it or not.
Regarding Stanley Michael “Mike” Kolendorski, Gertrude’s first love: Originally from New Jersey, he was an American pilot who flew for the Royal Air Force. He fought the Germans in England’s Eagle Squadron 71 before America got into the war. During the war, 244 Americans flew in RAF Eagle Squadrons, and 71 were killed. I tried to learn more about him from the Royal Air Force but was told that only family members could have access to pilots’ casualty information. Eventually I found Mike’s surviving nephew living in New Jersey. He had never met his late uncle but had been named for him. He graciously contacted the RAF and was able to get confirmation of Pilot Officer Kolendorski’s death. He conveyed to me the information used in this book.
Elizabeth Whittall was not certain this was the man her sister had loved. I reviewed the information from the RAF records with her, and she thought it sounded right, but … She had heard the man’s name, but by the time I asked her to recall it she could only say she thought “it started with a C.” More than 75 years later, we can never be absolutely certain who Gertrude’s first love was, but Kolendorski is the likeliest candidate to fit the information and the time frame. He was born in New Jersey, left on a motorcycle for California during the Depression, and had married and divorced in California before joining the RAF. I am grateful to his namesake and nephew, Stanley Michael Kolendorski, for accessing the RAF files as a next of kin and sharing them with me.