Lady Bartlett? That's right. She's an honest-to-goodness knight, atitle bestowed by the Liberian government.
Johnnee Bartlett, 90, lives quietly in a modest apartment in SouthCharleston. Age has softened her deep voice and stooped her statelyframe. No one would guess the adventurous, whirlwind life thatpreceded her move to West Virginia.
She grew up in British Columbia, flew her own plane at 18 andworked later as a public health nurse, flying into Alaskan villagesto treat the natives.
She married Pan American executive Stanley Bartlett and lived allover the world. 'I stopped counting the countries,' she said.
Charles Lindbergh was a close friend.
In the early 1970s, oil lured her retired husband to Spencer, thento Kellys Creek.
Oh, yes. She had her first heart attack at 36, a minor detail inher eventful 90-year biography.
'I was born in Vancouver, British Columbia. My father was apoliceman from Scotland. I did the highland fling, the sword dance,all the Scottish dances.
'My mother was Irish, a Murphy. She was deaf. Most people didn'trealize it, because she lip-read perfectly. My mother had theheartiest laugh. It was contagious.
'I got my adventuresomeness from my father. I had two sisters. Iwas my father's boy. I was 5 foot 8. He taught me how to wrestle andbox. Anything a boy could do, I could do, practically. He took memany places with him. If he'd had a son, it would have been a sonhe'd taken.
'Amelia Earhart disappeared during the time I was first startingto fly. I learned when I was 18. My father saw that I got lessons. Iliked doing things everyone else didn't do. Women pilots were anoddity.
'I wore pants to fly, and there weren't many women wearing pantsin those days. I was flying in pretty rugged country. I realized thatif anything happened and I had to land out some place, I should bedressed suitably.
'I went to St. Anne's Academy in Vancouver, then to the Universityof British Columbia, then to Columbia in New York for my master's inpublic health and psychiatry.
'I went to Alaska as a public health nurse, flew to the villagesand delivered babies and looked after people. The Eskimos were verygrateful for every little thing you did for them. In Gnome, we had anawful time with measles. If I remember rightly, we lost 10 people tomeasles. That was before the vaccine. They had a great deal ofsickness because of poor food and poor living conditions. There wasonly so much the Bureau of Indian Affairs could do.
'I was there when they started allowing Eskimos to have liquor.That was their ruination. They couldn't tolerate it. One drink andthey were drunk, and of course, they didn't stop at one drink. So wehad quite a bit of trouble with them getting intoxicated.
'One time, this Eskimo man came and said everyone in his villagewas sick and I had to come. I discovered that he wanted a ride homein an airplane and there wasn't a lot of sickness there at all. AfterI took off, I found this little boy crouched down in the plane, astowaway. I had to circle around and get him out of there.
'I got married in Gnome. My husband managed airports for PanAmerican World Airways. He used to say that when there was a hole inthe dike, he put his finger in it.
'My daughter was born in Seattle. I had her out of the hospitaltwo hours when I got on the plane headed for Gnome. My son was bornfour years earlier in Fairbanks.
'We went down to southeastern Alaska on Annette Island and fromthere to California. After California, we went to the Pacific. Wewent west in the Pacific until it became the East.
'We were among the first 100 people in Tokyo after the war. Myhusband set up a Pan American station there. Pan American flew infood for us. Food supplies were quite limited. It was really quitegrim. We had a housekeeper who had been a high school teacher beforethe war. A lot of people who were doing ordinary work had beeneducated people.
'We lived on Wake Island. It was very isolated, but we had a veryactive social life. There were two airlines there beside PanAmerican, and Pan American ran the island.
'When we were on Wake Island, Charles Lindbergh spent a week withus. He was with Pan American. When we went back to Annette for 10days, doing relief work, Charles visited us again. And he visited uswhen we were in Africa.
'He could ask more questions. He asked about where I flew and whyI flew and how. He was very interested in everything, especially mychildren. He would sit with them and ask one question after another,and they were delighted with him.
'He was very quiet. He didn't want people to know he was on theisland, didn't ever want any kind of fuss. He consented to us havinga party with Pan American employees, and we had several of the topisland people in. He was very gracious, but you could see that wasn'this forte.
'He was going up to Juneau one time when we were living onAnnette. The planes used to stop at Annette and offload passengers.Someone on Annette found out he was coming through, so photographerscame over. My husband went on board and told Charles there werenewspaper people there, and he stayed on board.
'He was such a humble person in so many ways. He did his ownlaundry. At night, he would wash his underpants and undershirt andhang them in the bathroom.
'From Wake Island, we went to Guam. Later, I was in China. Then wecame back this way and lived in West Africa for seven years. We livedin Liberia. You see it quite often in the news these days. When wewere there, it was a very peaceful, very wonderful country. It wassettled by the freed U.S. Negroes who went back there.
'Children used to sell vegetables in front of the store where weshopped. At Christmas, they would say, 'Where's my tip?' Except thisone boy came over and said, 'Here, Missy, here's your Christmas.' Itwas bananas. He used to come to our house and bring vegetables andthings, and he would always say he wanted to go to school. He wasabout 9 or 10 then.
'I finally said to my husband, 'Let's find out about this boy.' Sowe went to the village to see the chief. He said, 'If there's any boywho will do well with an education, it's this one.' His mother wasvery elderly. His father was dead. His older sister said it would befine if we would send him to school. So we sent him to boardingschool, and when school was out, he would stay with us. Even after weleft there, we continued his education and brought him to the States.He's an American citizen. So we have an adopted son, a wonderful man.He lives in Baltimore.
'We were knighted by the Liberian government, both my husband andI. I started three orphanages while we were in Liberia. We were bothvery active in doing things for the people of the country. It wasalmost too much of a social life though. It was nothing to go outfive or six nights a week to social things.
'My husband retired after we left Africa, in 1971. We came back tothe States, bought an Airstream and became trailerists. We came toWest Virginia for a matter of days. My husband became interested inoil mining, so we bought into that, and stayed in West Virginia.
'We came first to Spencer. People in Spencer are among thefriendliest in the world. We came there as absolute strangers, and ina matter of weeks, we were part of the community. Then we moved toKellys Creek, where he had oil wells.
'I had my first heart attack in Gnome when I was 36, and I've hadseveral since. I didn't let anything hold me back. I still don't.Here I am, at age 90. Four years ago, I got a pacemaker. I live withmy nitroglycerin.
'I have no regrets about anything. I was married to a wonderfulman. We had two terrific children. I've had a very interesting life.'
To contact staff writer Sandy Wells, call 348-5173 or e-mailsandyw@wvgazette.com.
