The Man Who Thanked the Sea Gulls-Eddie Rickenbacker-Truth! But Inaccurate Details! Summary of eRumor: The Truth:
The Man Who Thanked the Sea Gulls-Eddie Rickenbacker-Truth! But Inaccurate Details!
Summary of eRumor:The story of a man who would routinely take a bucket of shrimp to the end of a pier and fed them to sea gulls. He would say “thank you” to them as he did. It turned out to be World War I military hero Eddie Rickenbacker who regarded a sea gull as the beginning of a series of events that saved his life while drifting for 24 days in a raft after a plane crash into the Pacific.
The story about the plane crash and the seagull landing on the head of Eddie Rickebacker is true, according to the autobiography of Eddie Rickenbacker.
The story of the man feeding the seagulls in the eRumor came from excerpt from a book by popular minister and inspirational author Max Lucado. The version circulating on the Internet contains details that did not appear in Lucado’s book titled “In the Eye of the Storm.”
Rickenbacker was a pilot and a hero during WW I who became an ace and was presented with The Medal of Honor. The crash at sea took place in 1942 when he was sent by the U.S. government on a tour of the Pacific theater. The four-engine B-17 bomber on which he was a passenger went off course and ran out of fuel at sea.
He went on to be a race car driver, an aviation consultant, and airline executive. Rickenbacker was not the founder of Eastern Airlines but was very influential in the General Motors acquisition of Eastern Air Transport, a compilation of North American Aviation and Pitcairn Aviation Company that was owned by Clement Keys. When General Motors acquired the company from Keys they renamed it to Eastern Air Lines. In January of 1934 Rickenbacker began his term general manager for Eastern Air Lines and later served also as the company’s president.
Old Eddie Ed stands there tossing shrimp to the hungry birds. As he does, if you listen closely, you can hear him say with a smile, ‘Thank you. Thank you.’ That afternoon they had a simple devotional service and prayed for a miracle. They tried to nap. Eddie leaned back and pulled his military cap over his nose. Time dragged. All he could hear was the slap of the waves against the raft.
It happens every Friday evening, almost without fail, when the sun resembles a giant orange and is starting to dip into the blue ocean. Old Ed comes strolling along the beach to his favorite pier. Clutched in his bony hand is a bucket of shrimp.
Ed walks out to the end of the pier, where it seems he almost has the world to himself. The glow of the sun is a golden bronze now. Everybody’s gone, except for a few joggers on the beach. Standing out on the end of the pier, Ed is alone with his thoughts….and his bucket of shrimp.
Before long, however, he is no longer alone. Up in the sky a thousand white dots come screeching and squawking, winging their way toward that lanky frame standing there on the end of the pier. Before long, dozens of seagulls have enveloped him, their wings fluttering and flapping wildly.
In a few short minutes the bucket is empty. But Ed doesn’t leave. He stands there lost in thought, as though transported to another time and place. Invariably, one of the gulls lands on his sea-bleached, weather-beaten hat – an old military hat he’s been wearing for years. When he finally turns around and begins to walk back toward the beach, a few of the birds hop along the pier with him until he gets to the stairs, and then they, too, fly away. And old Ed quietly makes his way down to the end of the beach and on home.
If you were sitting there on the pier with your fishing line in the water, Ed might seem like ‘a funny old duck,’ as my dad used to say. Or, ‘a guy that’s a sandwich shy of a picnic,’ as my kids might say. To onlookers, he’s just another old codger, lost in his own weird world, feeding the seagulls with a bucket full of shrimp.
To the onlooker, rituals can look either very strange or very empty. They can seem altogether unimportant….maybe even a lot of nonsense. Old folks often do strange things, at least in the eyes of Boomers and Busters. Most of them would probably write Old Ed off, down there in Florida.
That’s too bad. They’d do well to know him better. His full name: Eddie Rickenbacker. He was a famous hero back in World War II. On one of his flying missions across the Pacific, he and his seven-member crew went down. Miraculously, all of the men survived, crawled out of their plane, and climbed into a life raft. Captain Rickenbacker and his crew floated for days on the rough waters of the Pacific. They fought the sun. They fought sharks. Most of all, they fought hunger. By the eighth day their rations ran out. No food. No water. They were hundreds of miles from land and no one knew where they were. They needed a miracle.
Suddenly, Eddie felt something land on the top of his cap. It was a seagull! Old Ed would later describe how he sat perfectly still, planning his next move. With a flash of his hand and a squawk from the gull, he managed to grab it and wring its neck. He tore the feathers off, and he and his starving crew made a meal – a very slight meal for eight men – of it. Then they used the intestines for bait. With it, they caught fish, which gave them food and more bait……and the cycle continued.
With that simple survival technique, they were able to endure the rigors of the sea until they were found and rescued. (after 24 days at sea…)
Eddie Rickenbacker lived many years beyond that ordeal, but he never forgot the sacrifice of that first lifesaving seagull. And he never stopped
saying, ‘Thank you.’ That’s why almost every Friday night he would walk to the end of the pier with a bucket full of shrimp and a heart full of
(Max Lucado, In The Eye of the Storm, pp.221, 225-226)
PS: Eddie was also an Ace in WW I and started Eastern Airlines.
Ed stands there tossing shrimp to the hungry birds. As he does, if you listen closely, you can hear him say with a smile, ‘Thank you. Thank you.’
That afternoon they had a simple devotional service and prayed for a miracle. They tried to nap. Eddie leaned back and pulled his military cap over his nose. Time dragged. All he could hear was the slap of the waves against the raft.