Wednesday, December 29, 2021

1903


__________ 

Kitty Hawk: Success. Four flights Thursday morning. All against 21-mile wind. Started from level with engine power alone. Average speed through air 31 miles. Longest 59 seconds. Inform press. Home Christmas. 

Telegram from the Wright Brothers to their parents, December 17, 1903

__________



In my class this was the watchword.

Terrance was an ancient Roman thinker.


Massachusetts is the first state to require license plates, as automobiles multiply. Across the United States, 32,900 cars and trucks are now on the roads. With an estimated U.S. population of 80,632,000, that meant there was 1 car or truck for every 2,451 people.

 

That would compare with the 283.8 million cars and trucks owned by Americans in 2021.

 

The U.S. population, according to the 2020 census stood at 331,449,281, meaning we have 1 car or truck for every 1.17 persons.

 

If we eliminate persons too young to drive, there are more vehicles than there are drivers in this country.  

NOTE TO TEACHERS: It might be an interesting question to put to students: How have cars and trucks changed life, and made it better or worse for Americans? What future do they see for the automobile, c. 2050?


 

*

 

July 26: Horatio Nelson Jackson and Sewall K. Crocker, team up to become the first to ever drive an automobile across the United States. They manage to make the trip in only 52 days! The trip began in San Francisco on May 23, and was the result of a $50 bet. An argument over drinks, four days earlier, whether or not the automobile was a novelty, too unreliable to ever replace the horse, led Jackson to accept a bet: that he could reach New York City within 90 days.

 

Crocker, a mechanic recommended a used 20-horsepower Winston, a cherry-red auto. As the History Channel notes, “American roads were extremely primitive – fewer than 150 miles nationwide were even paved. There were no road signs, road numbers or gas stations, and automobiles were extremely prone to breakdowns.” Only fifteen miles out of town, the travelers had their first flat tire, one of many which would follow.

 

When their car broke down in Oregon, and they were stranded for eight hours, they finally got a tow from a cowboy who lassoed the Winston and pulled it along. In Idaho they bought a dog, a bull Terrier they named “Bud,” and took him along. They even fitted Bud with a pair of goggles to keep dust out of his eyes. They got stuck in mud later and a team of horses had to pull them out. Bud got sick drinking bad water. The men went hungry for 36 hours at one stretch in Wyoming. Jackson later joked that he and Crocker started eying Bud as they “tightened their belts.”

 

All kinds of breakdowns slowed their progress and by the time they left Cheyenne, Wyoming, on July 7, 46 days had already passed.

 

Wherever they went, people crowded around, because many Americans had never seen an automobile.

 

They picked up speed from there, averaging 150 miles per day, reaching Chicago on July 17. There was a stop in Cleveland, where the Winston had been built, an accident near Buffalo, New York that tossed the two men out of the car, in an era when seat belts were unknown. On July 26, after 4,500 miles and 63 days, the men finally reached New York City. They were hailed as heroes in the newspapers and their feat was noted in Winston Automobile advertisement in years ahead.



The famous auto. Author's collection.

 


*

 

October 13: The Boston Americans beat the Pittsburgh Pirates to win the first World Series, a best-of-nine affair, five games to three. The longest game, the sixth, took only two hours and two minutes to complete. Game 7, in Boston, drew the largest crowd, 17,038.

 

Cy Young did good work for Boston. Honus Wagner, star shortstop for the Pirates, had a bad series, batting .222 and committing six errors. The fact that Deacon Phillippe started five of eight games for the Pirates, went for 44 innings, and wore out his arm, didn’t help their cause.

 

Baseball was a different game in that era, with only three homeruns hit in the series, two by Boston’s Patsy Dougherty.

 

The Pirates committed 19 errors, the Americans 14.

 

In 2018, one of only three programs known to exist from that World Series was put up for auction. Expected selling price: $150,000 to $250,000.

 


 


*

 

December 17: The Wright Brothers make four successful flights at Kitty Hawk. Most newspapers ignore the story or barely notice. (See: Year 1900, for first mention of the brothers.)

 

In a reading for my students, I described what happened this way. During the winter of 1902-03, after a summer of successful tests at Kitty Hawk in 1902, Orville and Wilbur worked harder than ever.

 

For they expected to fly – not glide – the next summer. Assisted by Charles Taylor, a Dayton mechanic, they calculated that they would need a gasoline engine with at least eight horsepower. Taylor, a wizard in a machine shop, set to work to make one. In six weeks he completed his task:  producing a twelve horsepower model, fueled by a one gallon tank. Meanwhile, Orville and Wilbur devoted three months to testing hundreds of propellers, looking for the best design. Notebook after notebook filled with careful measurements and formulas.

 

By summer 1903, they were ready. By now they realized that other inventors were copying their ideas. Indeed, they were far from certain that they would be the first to fly. They did know they were close to manned, powered, and controlled flight. But they did not realize how far ahead of their competition they were. They were particularly worried by the efforts of Professor Samuel Langley, one of America’s most respected scientists.

 

After more than ten years of study Langley appeared ready to launch his first plane. News reports indicated he might test his craft at any moment. Fearing defeat, the Wrights rushed ahead. Once more they returned to Kitty Hawk in the fall of 1903, and tested their newest model as a glider, planning to add the engine later. On October 3, Orville had another brush with death. During a test flight a gust of wind threw him from his pilot’s cradle and rolled him along the wing. He barely managed to regain his position in time to avoid a smashup. Another day a sudden down-draft brought the glider close to the sand. A wing tip struck Wilbur hard in the head, as he stood watching.

 

Despite such troubles, Orville and Wilbur pushed ahead, always fearful that Langley might defeat them. A series of maddening delays blocked their path. Weather along the coast proved unusually bad. Plans for flying were put on hold. The brothers placed their engine in position on the lower wing and ran their first tests. The results were a disaster. The engine sputtered badly, the propellers broke loose, and the drive shafts were badly damaged.

 

Langley had his chance: and he made his launch on October 7, 1903.  Something went wrong and his craft (called Aerodrome) snagged on its catapult launcher at the end of the rail. Since Langley worked from the roof of a barge on the Potomac River pilot Charles Manly ended up swimming rather than flying!

 

Meantime, the Wrights had their damaged drive shafts repaired. Again they tested their engines. This time a shaft cracked. On November 30, Orville found himself returning to Dayton for another round of repairs. Winter was settling down on the North Carolina coast, and the surfaces of small ponds near camp froze each night. Biting winds blew off the ocean. Temperatures fell. There were times the brothers’ hands were too numb to work. By December it appeared as if Orville and Wilbur had missed their chance.

 

Working overtime, Langley and his team were ready again on December 8. Once more Aerodrome headed down the runway. For a brief moment she rose into the sky. Then, with engines churning hopelessly, the tail broke off and the machine tumbled into the river. Once again Manly barely escaped drowning. Newspapers across the nation tore into the professor the next day. The New York Times labeled the whole affair a “ridiculous fiasco.”  Editors predicted that “the flying machine which will really fly” would not be ready for “one to 10 million years.”

 

* 

After a near miss and minor damage to their plane on December 14, the Wrights were prepared to launch again, three days later. Rising early on December 17, 1903 they set to work preparing for the test. Several times the cold drove them back to their work shed to warm themselves by the stove. By 10:30 a. m. all was ready. The two brothers shook hands and Orville took the controls. The engine was started. A restraining wire was dropped and the plane began moving down a launch rail in the sand. Wilbur ran alongside steadying the right wing. Then, with five other men as witnesses, the machine gave a sudden jerk and rose into the air.

 

On its own power. From a flat surface.

 

All controlled by Orville Wright!

 

The first man to fly.

 

This “flight” lasted only twelve seconds, and covered a mere 120 feet. Then the plane (now renamed The Flyer) skidded back to the sand. Still, it was a giant’s step.  One excited witness took off to spread the news. At the Kitty Hawk post office he shouted,  “They have done it!  They have done it!  D---ed if they ain’t flew!”

 

On that famous day at Kitty Hawk the brothers made three more flights, each longer than the last. On the fourth Wilbur traveled 852 feet and stayed in the air 59 seconds.

 

Man had taken his place beside the birds, and pointed himself to the stars.


NOTE TO TEACHERS: In readings for my seventh and eighth grade students, I highlighted words in bold I thought many might not know.

 

In a footnote, regarding events of December 17, I added this: 

Later that day, as the brothers discussed their success, the wind sprang to life. Their craft was caught and flipped with a sickening crash. An assistant named John Daniels tried to grab hold of the wings but became tangled in the wires. Soon Daniels and The Flyer were tumbling end-over-end across the sand. Before anyone could stop the craft it was a complete wreck.

 

Daniels was badly shaken but unhurt. Later he laughingly called this his “first – and God help me – my last flight.”

 


 

 

* 

“Slime siphoned upon us from the Continental mud tanks.” 

Stephen Miller’s great grandfather, a Jew fleeing pogroms and abuse in Russia, and speaking Yiddish, arrives in this country. Under rules implemented in 2018, at the urging of his great grandson, an advisor to President Trump, he would have been barred from entry. Sam Glosser was his name and he passed beneath Lady Liberty’s torch around 1903. Most East European Jews went straight to work in the sweatshops of the New York City garment industry, low-skilled workers, earning low pay. 

Virulent anti-Semitism was common in America at the time. A New York newspaper referred to people like Glosser as “slime” being “siphoned upon us from the Continental mud tanks.”

 

* 

The song “The Eyes of Texas” debuts at a student-organized minstrel show. The composer is John Lang Sinclair. More than a century later, controversy continues to roil the campus of the University of Texas. For many years the song has been the fight song of the university, and many students would like it banned, because of its roots. On the surface, it does not seem to be problematic: 

The Eyes of Texas are upon you,
All the livelong day.
The Eyes of Texas are upon you,
You cannot get away.
Do not think you can escape them
At night or early in the morn – 
The Eyes of Texas are upon you
Til Gabriel blows his horn.

 


Wikipedia explains in part: 

The lyrics are set to the tune of “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” It is common practice that the last line, “Til Gabriel blows his horn,” is sung and played to a slightly slower tempo than the rest of the song. Students, faculty, staff, athletes, and alumni punctuate each beat of the last line with a small chopping motion of their right raised arm and “Hook ‘Em” hand sign.

 

It doesn’t help to know that no African Americans were enrolled at the school until 1956, or that white students continued to play the song at minstrel shows until the mid-1960s, when such shows – if not the sentiment behind them – fell out of favor. In 1986, a graduate of the university and a donor, complained about attempts to ban the song. He or she wrote, “It is sad that it is offending blacks,” the donor wrote. “As I said before the blacks are free and it’s time for them to move on to another state where everything is in their favor.” 

Ugh. 

That’s a modern variant of the “Go back to Africa” brand of thought.


* 

A comparison of sorts: In April 2021, a law student at Rutgers causes anger to erupt after quoting a legal opinion from 1993, which included the word “nigger.” This was during a Zoom call with her professor and other students. A group of black students has now called for the student and professor to apologize. Or another student uses the word in a discussion of racism, language, and freedom of expression. (A fifteen-second clip of his words goes viral.) 

I have never been one to say it’s difficult to uncover racism; but you do have to wonder. An example: calling your football team the “Redskins?” Clearly racist. But which of these sports logos are racist?




 

 

Of course, the racists (and other brands of haters) always walk among us. Attacks on Asian Americans increase dramatically during the COVID-19 pandemic, in part, many believe, after President Trump insistently calls the virus the “Kung Flu,” the “Wuhan flu,” and stresses it came from China. 

Time magazine publishes this cover:

  

Asian Americans feel a need in May 2021 to organize anti-hate groups of their own, and create this poster, which I love: 


December 30: An appalling disaster unfolds in Chicago, as related by Edward Ellis:

 

On the afternoon of December 30, 1903, at a matinee performance of the Iroquois Theater, Chicago, a structure with all modern appliances and believed to be fire proof, a small blaze started in the stage draperies, supposed to have been caused by calcium or arc light, and spread with terrifying swiftness. The immense audience was thrown into a wild panic, and fought and trampled on one another in the frenzied struggle to reach the outer air. Nearly all the exits were found locked and the asbestos curtain would not work. Penned in, the miserable children, women and men succumbed by the score to the most horrible of deaths. More than six hundred persons were offered up as a sacrifice to the greed and criminal neglect of men. (33/2202)

 


 

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