Wright Defeats Gale, Thousands Applaud

1909

Flies 21 Miles Up Hudson River and Returns

NEW YORK, Oct. 7. — Over a tumbling sea of air waves that swept from the walls of skyscrapers Wilbur Wright made a sensational flight in his aeroplane from Governor's Island north above the Hudson River, around the British cruiser Drake, and anchored 1,000 feet north of Grant's tomb, and back to the starting point again without mishap.

Wright was in the air 33 minutes and 33 seconds and flew approximately twenty-one miles, including the turn over the warships, an average speed of thirty-seven miles an hour. At no time was he more than 500 feet above the waters of the river. The average height at which the machine traveled was 200 feet. A part of the way it went as low as twenty feet.

To use the bird man's own words: "It was a rough but exhilarating flight, and everything worked beautifully."

Hundreds of thousands of eager men and women massed in the towers and on the roofs of all the tall buildings, crowded in the streets close to the river and spread over the entire riverside section, gazed in wonder at the flying man as he deftly manipulated his slender machine in the changing currents of the upper air. Cheering that he never heard greeted him throughout his majestic flight.

Flying at a forth-mile clip at an elevation of 100 feet, Wright quickly passed the Battery, which was black with humanity and encountered for the first time rough air waves flung from the roofs of the down town skyscrapers. The tall Singer tower, standing between the aviator and the rushing wind, was responsible for an angry swirl of currents, and Wright was quick to see that it was ticklish going. The aeroplane bobbed and fretted at this point, but the master hand at the levers overcame the attack of the almost baffling air waves, the airship literally riding over them, now dipping, now rising sharply, like a steamer in a tumble of waters.

The machine passed the foot of Fulton street at 10 o'clock, 200 feet in the air. Finally he turned off toward the Jersey shore and settled down to an altitude of about 150 feet. The machine appeared to behave better after this maneuver and traveled at a fast clip.

In a wide-sweeping curve to the right, the plane dipping slightly and gracefully, the biplane circled the British cruiser and headed down stream again.

After the aviator had made his turn, he glided swiftly toward the Jersey shore and when the machine was about 1,000 yards out he turned sharply to the left again and began his triumphal journey back to Governor's Island.

From a height of 150 feet off the Battery the great bird began the descent where a little group of patient men, that included Major General Wood and James M. Beck, chairman of the aeronautic committee of the Hudson-Fulton celebration, had been waiting since the start. Finally it glided to earth only a few feet from the starting point with scarcely a jar.

Henri Farman Builds New Aeroplane

1908

Frenchman to Contest for $10,000 Prize

Paris. — Henri Farman, the Frenchman, who recently achieved so successful a flight in his aeroplane, has formally entered to contest with Santos-Dumont for the Deutsch-Archdeacon Grand Aviation Prize. In order to win the prize, which is valued at about $10,000, the amateur must arise free from the ground and in clear flight from the line of departure determined by two posts about 166 feet apart, fly around a post erected at a distance of about 1,650 feet, returning to the point of departure.

On the first attempt made by M. Farman to gain the prize In the presence of the official commission of the Aero club of France he made several ineffectual trials to arise, but finally appeared to be in clear flight. Unfortunately some of the ropes connected with his aeroplane grazed the soil, and the commission found it impossible to make the award.

Another attempt was made after Santos-Dumont had a trial, when M. Farman succeeded in making numerous flights of from about 1,000 feet to about half a mile. However, on each occasion he failed to achieve the prize because he did not succeed in coming back to the point of departure. The consistency of his results, however, has been regarded as remarkable, putting him at once in the front rank of the few who have obtained even creditable flights with aeroplanes.

In order to dispute the prize with M. Farman, M. Santos-Dumont has constructed a new aeroplane, numbered 19, for in this way he distinguishes his airships and at the same time confesses his enormous interest in the sport, for probably no person before the time of Santos-Dumont has built so many aerial machines.

With this machine he succeeded in covering about 650 feet, or less than half the required distance, to say nothing of the demand that the contestant shall return to the point of departure. As the case now stands it is generally believed that Henri Farman has the better chance of winning the grand prize, which really means more than the acquisition of $10,000, for it will be an achievement which may have far reaching effects on the problem of aerial flight.

Orville Wright Is Aeroplane King

Printed Aug. 1909

Dayton Aviator Sets New Record for Endurance

Washington. — Flying 50 miles, which is more than double the distance across the English channel, Orville Wright, the American "king of the air," Tuesday at Fort Myer, broke the aeroplane endurance record, with Lieut. Frank P. Lahm, as a passenger. The machine was in the air one hour, 12 minutes and 40 seconds.

The former record was made last year by his brother Wilbur, joint inventor with him of the machine in which both achievements were performed, at Le Mans, France, with Prof. Painleve of the French institute as passenger. That flight was one hour, nine minutes and 31 seconds.

The cheering which heralded the setting of a new mark in the conquest of the air was led by President Taft in person, who was an intensely interested spectator throughout the flight, and who insisted at its conclusion upon personally congratulating the brothers upon their success. This success was all-important to the Wrights in that it completed the first of two crucial tests of their machine imposed upon them by the United States government — the so-called "endurance test," which required them to remain one hour continuously in the air with one passenger.


Attempt to Fly Across English Channel Fails

Dover, England. — Hubert Latham's second attempt to fly across the English channel ended disastrously Tuesday. Almost in the moment of victory his monoplane fluttered down into the sea two miles beyond the Admiralty pier, like a bird with a broken wing. Thousands of persons crowding the water front saw the fall and feared Latham was dead.

A flock of large and small craft raced to the scene of the disaster, and a pinnace from the British battleship Russell picked up the unlucky flyer and put him aboard the French torpedo boat destroyer Escopette. After a surgeon had attended to his injuries the destroyer brought Latham ashore and he was taken to the Lord Warden hotel. His face was bandaged and bleeding and his nose was broken. The machine, badly wrecked, was hoisted from the boat to the dock.

Biplane Pilots Lose Lives at San Diego

San Diego, 1913

FLYERS MEET DEATH LIEUTS. KELLY AND ELLINGTON LOSE THEIR LIVES AT SAN DIEGO, CAL.

FALL 80 FEET TO GROUND

Both Men Are Instantly Killed, the Motor Crushing Their Chests— Total Fatalities in Navy and Army Service Numbers Fifteen.

San Diego, Cal.—Two intrepid navigators of the air, Lieuts. Hugh M. Kelly and Eric L. Ellington, U. S. A., attached to the camp of the first aero corps, were instantly killed at North island, when they fell from an altitude of eighty or more feet in a dual controlled biplane.

Within eight minutes after Lieut. Ellington had waved his hand as a signal to the mechanicians to let go the biplane the army aviator and his brother officer were lying crushed and mangled corpses, a mile away from the hangars whence the two had ascended.

Lieut. Ellington, a skillful pilot, occupied the instructor's seat in the biplane, with Lieut. Kelly at his side. The latter, a comparative novice at the flying game, was receiving instructions in the handling of the control levers. Owing to the general arrangements of the controlling wires, Lieut. Ellington could be at all times absolute master of the machine.

The engine, one of six cylinders and sixty horsepower, was working perfectly, and the two officers ascended to a height of 300 feet, circled and then began a volplane which was to have brought them back to the hangars. According to Capt. Cowan, in command of the aviation post, the biplane glided at a normal angle for a distance of about 220 feet. Then the engine, which was throttled at the beginning of the volplane, was thrown open.

Whether at this instant the unfortunate aeronauts temporarily lost control of the machine or the initial impetus of the revolving propeller, when the biplane was at so low an altitude, caused the machine to tip forward, can only be conjectured. But the spectators of the flight say the biplane suddenly pitched forward, nose downward, and shot to the earth. The impact probably killed both men, but the motor made death doubly sure by crushing their chests.

—The Correctionville Argus, Correctionville, Iowa, November 28, 1913, page 6.