KENT Messenger Group chairman Edwin Boorman, accompanied by his wife Janine, was among the passengers on one of the last-ever flights of Concorde. Here he recalls the experience

– Bertrand Russell 1910.

WE LOVE Concorde’s style. It is Britain’s best, even though we must admit the French had something to do with it. Now she has retired. What have we left?

As a 20-year wedding celebration, I took my wife last Thursday on BA 001, Concorde’s last London to New York flight. The secret had been well kept.

The surprise lasted through the Concorde waiting room celebrations but gave way to concern when we strapped ourselves in. “Edwin, I hope this is not going to be the Titanic in reverse!” my wife said.

Altogether there were 100 fare-paying passengers on the flight, F1 boss Bernie Eccleston among them. Some Americans had booked their routine return journey and had not realised this was to be Concorde’s last outward flight. “Why?” they asked, as we all do.

By 7.30pm, it had grown dark when Captain Adrian Thompson took GB-OAG off from the northern runway, dipped the wing in salute to the hundreds of ground crew and firefighters who had ringed the perimeter track, and turned towards the USA.

Half an hour later, clear of the Bristol Channel, the First Officer, Les Evans, pressed the four Rolls Royce Olympic engines into supersonic power.

For the rest of the 2,000 mile journey, almost until we reached New York for the last time on scheduled flight, Concorde climbed to the rim of space (60,000 feet, 11 miles high), flew faster than a rifle bullet (1,350 mph, Mach 2) and caught up with the sun. An historic but daily achievement unlikely to be repeated by any passenger airliner in our lifetime.

Our fellow passengers moved around, photographing everything. Captain Thompson posed in the cabin entrance for over an hour.

For some of the time an 80-year-old American lady seeking publicity stood beside him, until she was politely removed.

All duty free memorabilia vanished (one person spending £3,000) and all magazines and menus bearing the word “Concorde” were taken. By the time we reached New York, she looked bare.

On the ground once more, Flight Engineer Michael Hollyer's voice commanded over the intercom: “For the last time on BA001 and in my career, crew, doors to manual and cross-check, please.”

There was a lump in all our throats.

Concorde has quit while she is ahead.