It Happened Here -- The Daredevil from Hammondsport

Three days had passed since he announced he would begin his flight from Van Rensselaer's Island, just south of the Albany city line. On the first day the plane was not ready. The emergency flotation device, five inflated airbags of "balloon cloth" mounted above a "planing board" had yet to be installed and every nut and turnbuckle on the plane needed to be checked and varnished to prevent them from vibrating loose.  The wind Friday morning was gusty and though it settled down later in the day, unpredictable gusts that nearly upset the "Hudson Flier" convincing the pilot to cancel the takeoff. On Saturday at 8AM everything was in readiness.  The New York Central locomotive that was to shadow the flight with its four carloads of reporters and dignitaries and the inventor's wife had built up a head of steam (for the third time) and was easing down the tracks when a last check of the weather from New York revealed a storm was working it way up the Hudson. The pilot and inventor. Glenn H. Curtiss threw himself on the ground in utter frustration. 

 Events seemed all too much like a sequel to events of late September, half a year before, during the 1909 Hudson-Fulton Celebration.  At that time both Curtiss and the Wright Brothers had been contracted to make demonstration flights with their machines and invited to participate in a challenge to be the first to fly between New York and Albany (with no more than two refueling stops along the way). An intense rivalry had developed between the Wright Brothers and Glen Curtiss. The Wrights jealously guarded their innovations and at the time were suing Curtiss for patent infringement. 1

Wilbur Wright revealed he had no intention of hazarding his plane on such a long flight, at this time, but arriving at Governor's Island before Curtiss he had been able make a flight across New York Harbor, circle the Statue of Liberty and return to adoring crowds, before five days of bad weather set in. During the bad weather two airships set out to win the $10,000 prize put forward by editor Joseph Pulitzer of the New York World .  One airship was forced down into the Hudson, a few miles north of the City, while the other gas bag limped back to Governor's Island, with wind damaged gear. Pulitizer extended the challenge for another year, and Curtiss, pressed by other commitments, had been obliged to leave.

Port Administration Bld., Port of Albany

Finally, on the fourth day on Van Rensselaer Island the weather turned calm and mild. At 7:02 Curtiss lifted off and the trip proceeded without incident to his scheduled refueling stop south of Poughkeepsie.  Landing there he discovered no gas or oil had been delivered. (Apparently his fuel supplier refused to "break the Sabbath".)  But an enthusiastic crowd of motorist-onlookers were thrilled at the opportunity to give him gas and oil from their vehicles' reserve tanks to send him on his way. The Hudson Highlands were Curtiss' biggest obstacle.  Climbing to 2000 feet to get over Storm King Mountain a gust of air drove the little plane downward while thrusting it on its side. Curtiss on the open seat was nearly tossed from the plane as Lena, his wife  and the other passengers watched in horror from the train below. Seeking calmer air,  Curtiss descended to 40 feet above the water until another gust of wind nearly plunged one wing into the water. Somehow Curtiss survived this second near-crash and emerged into the broad expanse above the Tappan Zee.  As he flew over Yonkers Curtiss noticed his oil gauge showed he was getting low on oil. The eight cylinder engine, of his own design, was oiled manually by operating a hand pump every ten minutes.  Had he used too much oil?  He waited until the engineer on the escorting train below layed a steady blast on his horn, announcing Curtiss' arrival into New York City, then he began to search for a place to make an emergency landing.  Fortunately, at that time there were a few large estates in the upper Bronx. Curtiss settled his plane down on the grassy slope of the Isham estate. The estate's owner came running from his veranda, having just read about Curtiss' flight in his Sunday paper. Curtiss accepted his congratulations then once again had to beg for oil and gasoline. The take off was tricky: down the grassy slope, over the cliff edge, steering between the sides of the Spuyten Duyvil gorge, but once he accomplished this he was on his way, down the length of Riverside drive accompanied by a cacophony of car horns, and whistles, bells and sirens of boats and ships of every size and description celebrating his arrival.  Passing the end of Manhattan, he crossed New York harbor to circle around the Statute of Liberty before setting down in triumph on Governor's Island. 

The Glenn Curtiss Museum, Hammondsport

Glenn Hammond Curtiss was born in the little town of Hammondsport at the southern end of Keuka Lake in the Finger Lakes wine country. Curtiss began his adult life working at George Eastman's photographic plant.  Bored with the confining factory production work he got a job as a Western Union Bicycle messenger, and homesick, began regularly making the 70 mile trek home on his bicycle, on weekends.  In Hammondsport he came to the attention of a local bicycle racing club. He started racing with them and soon was able to return home, supporting himself on prize moneys and by repairing bicycles. Realizing the mark-up on bicycles, he began to manufacture his own bicycles under the trade name Hercules, and soon had a second shop repairing bikes and selling his own brand. Fascinated by speed, the Hammondsport bike manufacturer ordered a mail order gasoline engine. What he got was a crude engine block with no carburetor and no instructions, but instead of returning it, he taught himself how to build an engine and was soon ordering from them the biggest engine they made. Convinced he could make better, lighter engines himself, he began manufacturing his own engines and mounting them on bigger, stronger frames. The Curtiss motorcycle was born and Glenn Curtiss began competing against the best motorcycle racers and the best motorcycles of their day, Harley Davidsons and Indians. His desire for greater and greater speed eventually led him to the construction of an 8 cylinder monster motorcycle that he raced at Ormond Beach, Florida, making him "the fastest man in the world"at 136.3 mph--a record that would stand for five years.  

8 cylinder Curtiss Motorcycle at the Curtiss Museum

His successes brought him in contact with Thomas Baldwin who was looking for a better, lighter engines for the dirigibles he was developing. At first Curtiss was not impressed by "these aviation cranks" but he realized he could get twice as much for an aviation engine as for a complete motorcycle and eventually he became intrigued. Baldwin introduced him to a group of aviation enthusiasts, led by the famous (and wealthy) Alexander Graham Bell. who were pooling their talents to build a machine that could achieve practical sustained flight. Curtis became the engine man for the Aerial Experiment Association.  While Bell and others in the group focused on developing a tetrahedral kite design created by Bell,  Curtiss, inspired by the Wright's early successes, employed the biplane glider configuration first used by German air pioneers. A series of early planes were developed culminating in the "June Bug" produced at his shop, which won a Scientific American prize for first aeroplane to fly one kilometer.  The airplane's development, and confidence in what airplanes could do leaped ahead for in only a year's time a Frenchman, Louis Bleriot had flown the English channel and Curtiss was contemplating the New York to Albany flight.

The June Bug at the Glenn Curtis Museum

In years to come, following Curtiss' Hudson 
river flight he would build the first successful seaplane and make many developments in that field. In 1917 his company would produce the JN4 "Jenny" widely used as a WWI trainer and the mainstay of the U.S. Mails for many years. And in WWII the Curtiss Company would produce transports and the rugged P40 fighter, used in every war theater.

 

 Early Curtiss hydroplanes

                                                               A "Jenny"

A   P-40 "Flying Tiger"
 

1The Wrights asserted in their patent suit that they had patented a solution for the problem of aeroplanes tending to roll as a bi-product engine torque by modifying the shape of the wing. Their technique was to modify the flow of air over the wing by flexing or “warping” the rear of the wing-tips up or down. Curtiss (and others) modified the flow of air over the wings by using a hinged flap (aileron) but the Wrights asserted the principle was the same. The suits dragged on until, eventually, with the demands of WWI pressing, the government set up a "patent pool" open to all U.S aircraft manufactures in which the manufacturers would pay a small royalty to the government for any patented ideas they used and the government would pay the manufacturer who had patented the idea.