Tingmissartoq is the name given the Lindberghs' plane by an Eskimo boy when
they landed in Greenland; it means "One who flies like a big bird".
Anne Lindbergh wrote about the experience in her book, North to the Orient, which I think is one of the best books ever in the travel by flight genre. In fact, it got me started reading a number of other books about pioneering flight experiences. And that made me realize how many people died in plane crashes, and that made me promise myself I'd never ever ever go up in a small plane, not even if you promised me a chocolate soda afterwards. Not even if the chocolate soda was made of solid gold, because then I couldn't even drink it.
When I was in college, everybody and their grandmother was reading Bring Me a Unicorn, Lindbergh's first volume of her journals, covering her early college years. I tried to read it a couple of times and kept falling asleep. But North to the Orient is a beautiful and honestly written account by a skilled writer of a fascinating and adventurous flight in the early days of aviation. So it was a bit of a thrill to see the actual plane that the Lindberghs flew in.
I will say that, because of North to the Orient, I went back and tried Bring Me a Unicorn one more time and enjoyed it enough to finish it. I also read several other volumes of Lindbergh's journals, including my favorite, War Within and Without, which covers the years before and during World War II, and which, along with North to the Orient, is one of my all-time favorite books. I recommend both.
I also saw The Spirit of St Louis at the museum, which was cool. (And I also read the book, hereby recommended as well.)
*As I was writing this, I learned that Neil Armstrong died today. That made me a little sad.