John H. Whitney’s work for Glenn Curtiss

Working the air show circuit

I was delayed in Los Angeles on account of the bankruptcy of the Herring Curtiss Company but early in the spring of 1910, I finally got a telegram saying I was to join Curtiss’ outfit at Memphis. Curtiss was heading his staff of pilots in exhibition flying, which was almost the only way he could make money to continue his aeronautical research. After we finished in Memphis, we traveled to San Antonio, Texas. We were down in Texas Ranger country as we discovered in a few days.

The public looked upon us in active aviation then, as queer freaks. Since, they reasoned, no sane person would monkey around with “them there airships,” which anyone knows can't fly. I know, since then, just how the wild animals in the zoo cages feel. People don't want to get too near; you never can tell what such a being might do.

Chief interest naturally centered on the great Curtiss but we helpers; assistant pilots, mechanics, photographer and all, got our minor share. I would find people gazing at me with an expression which clearly said "Well, now, he looks fairly normal but you never can tell. Lets keep an eye on him and play safe." Exactly the same attitude one would take with a recently liberated but none too well cured inmate of an insane asylum. That was the helpful atmosphere in which early aeronautical researchers labored.

One day, we had the usual paying crowd at the fairgrounds in San Antonio. Fairgrounds were our usual place to fly exhibitions and we almost always used them. They had the grandstand and bleachers and plenty of room. That day was very windy. Curtiss was very careful with his flying and would not go up if the air was wrong, too turbulent, too rough, etc. He would not allow flying that day. The crowd of course, knowing less than nothing of flying, began to protest. I was with the ticket selling crew in the little shed-like ticket booth. A few men came to the window and demanded their money back. Sutton, Curtiss' assistant business manager, hesitated. He did not dare authorize money return. These men began to give us hard looks, then we felt the little building begin to rock. They had got hold of it and were tilting it a little to show us they meant business. Someone with sense told Sutton, "See here Sutton, you don't seem to realize where your are. You are not in the East where people, crowds, will take any thing and merely grumble about it. These men are the Texas Ranger type and they mean business. You'd better give them their money back."

Sutton's last hesitation vanished when a more severe tilt came and he realized that very soon they would completely over turn the little shack with us in it and then … So he hastily told the ticket takers to return the money. Several of us stationed ourselves outside and in loud voices told them it was for their own safety that Curtiss refused to fly. "We don't want to kill you," we told them. To the most truculent we said, "Stop! Will you listen to me? We know flying, you don't. If we go up now there is a good chance the pilot won't come back alive and he might take you with him. Do you really want to be killed? Do you?" This word was passed around and when we told them we would honor their ticket the first day the air was safe to fly they were satisfied. We had to return very little money.

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