Two Men. Two Planes. One Race to Conquer the World.

In the golden age of aviation, a one-eyed Oklahoma farm boy and a handsome Hollywood stunt pilot embark on a historic and daring round-the-world rivalry.

Illustration image courtesy of Retrographik; collage by Chelsea Stahl

Jimmie Mattern returned to Coney Island’s Halfmoon Hotel at seven p.m., a pack of querulous reporters trailing him through the lobby and all the way to his room. He ordered a room service dinner, which the newshounds treated as a solemn occasion, although a few cracked “last supper” jokes under their breaths.

It was June 2, 1933, the night before the twenty-eight-year-old pilot would attempt to fly around the world, alone. If successful, he’d be the first; an inspiring story for a nation reeling from the Great Depression. Mattern tried to clear the room, but the reporters insisted on “just one more” question as photographers’ flashbulbs popped, etching electric blue tracers on the backs of his eyelids every time he blinked.

Six years earlier Charles A. Lindbergh had soared over the Atlantic in “The Spirit of St. Louis,” and single-handedly ushered in the era of aerial conquest. For pilots like Mattern, setting new aeri…