Read Online Unlocking the Sky by Seth Shulman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Seth Shulman
Ads: Link
periodicals in the field, ran a lengthy article by a prominent patent attorney analyzing the basis of the Wright lawsuit and claiming that their case was overblown. A close reading of the Wright claims, the lawyer asserted, showed that they “do not cover supplementary surfaces,” namely the separate, adjustable wing flaps called ailerons. The interpretation surely influenced the attitude of flyers toward the case even if it did not ultimately sway the courts.
As another outspoken editorial noted, Orville Wright “will never suffer for want of this world’s goods. His name and fame will suffer, however, if, instead of contributing his future interest and enthusiasm to the further conquest of the air, he sulks in his tent and blocks the game of other people on account of his parsimonious concern for an old patent.”
With the fate of an emerging industry literally in the balance, and with the prospect of a high-stakes spectacle, the aerodrome case soon drew front-page headlines in the press, moving to center stage in the bitter, ongoing drama over the control of the emerging aviation industry. The appearance of a conflict of interest on the part of Curtiss and the Smithsonian team, not to mention the existence of the bitter lawsuit with Orville Wright, soon led to a full-blown imbroglio.
Unfortunately, the posturing and name calling obscured an underlying issue of historical significance. After all, at its heart, the aerodrome restoration raised profound issues of precedence and posterity. About how technological change occurs and how historyremembers it. As a New York Times editorial observed, the Wright suit “was won upon the fact that no other aeroplane had ever maintained itself in air with human freight, and inferentially could not. What effect Mr. Curtiss’s aerodrome restoration project might have in modifying the recent decision of the circuit Court in favor of the Wrights’ connection no one can now tell.”
THREE
AMERICA OR BUST
The Atlantic Ocean, one of these days, will be no more difficult to cross by air than a fish pond.
—G LENN H. C URTISS
O n a warm spring evening in 1914, several days after the arrival of Langley’s aerodrome, Glenn Curtiss waits on the open-air platform of the Hammondsport station beside scenic Lake Keuka. From his perch there at the edge of town, he can see the familiar and sparsely populated wooded hills that slope down to the Lake’s distant bank. All is quiet. He hears only the murmur of crickets and occasional wafting voices from far across the water until the raucous clatter and roar of the approaching train rises to drown them out.
As the train shatters the evening’s tranquillity, so will its arriving passenger presage jarring changes for Hammondsport in the spring and summer to come. On board is Albert Zahm, a dapper man in a carefully pressed suit and straw boater hat. Zahm, the liaison fromthe Smithsonian Institution, is coming to town to oversee the particulars of the aerodrome’s reconstruction.
Zahm’s arrival will mark the start of a swirl of activity unlike anything the residents of Hammondsport have ever seen. Aviation luminary Charles Manly, Langley’s former assistant, will soon join the restoration effort as will Charles Walcott, head of the Smithsonian Institution. Many others with no connection to the aerodrome project will descend upon Hammondsport as well. Elmer Sperry Jr., for instance, comes to town to perfect the automatic airplane stabilizer Glenn Curtiss helped him develop. Earlier in the year, Sperry stunned crowds in Paris with the invention, as he left his airplane’s controls in mid-flight over the Seine while his mechanic climbed out onto its wing. Like many others interested in aviation, Sperry chooses Hammondsport as the best place to advance his aeronautical work.
In the months to come, interest in the Curtiss Aeroplane Company will reach new heights. Curtiss is hamstrung by his lawsuit with the Wrights, but he has managed to
As another outspoken editorial noted, Orville Wright “will never suffer for want of this world’s goods. His name and fame will suffer, however, if, instead of contributing his future interest and enthusiasm to the further conquest of the air, he sulks in his tent and blocks the game of other people on account of his parsimonious concern for an old patent.”
With the fate of an emerging industry literally in the balance, and with the prospect of a high-stakes spectacle, the aerodrome case soon drew front-page headlines in the press, moving to center stage in the bitter, ongoing drama over the control of the emerging aviation industry. The appearance of a conflict of interest on the part of Curtiss and the Smithsonian team, not to mention the existence of the bitter lawsuit with Orville Wright, soon led to a full-blown imbroglio.
Unfortunately, the posturing and name calling obscured an underlying issue of historical significance. After all, at its heart, the aerodrome restoration raised profound issues of precedence and posterity. About how technological change occurs and how historyremembers it. As a New York Times editorial observed, the Wright suit “was won upon the fact that no other aeroplane had ever maintained itself in air with human freight, and inferentially could not. What effect Mr. Curtiss’s aerodrome restoration project might have in modifying the recent decision of the circuit Court in favor of the Wrights’ connection no one can now tell.”
THREE
AMERICA OR BUST
The Atlantic Ocean, one of these days, will be no more difficult to cross by air than a fish pond.
—G LENN H. C URTISS
O n a warm spring evening in 1914, several days after the arrival of Langley’s aerodrome, Glenn Curtiss waits on the open-air platform of the Hammondsport station beside scenic Lake Keuka. From his perch there at the edge of town, he can see the familiar and sparsely populated wooded hills that slope down to the Lake’s distant bank. All is quiet. He hears only the murmur of crickets and occasional wafting voices from far across the water until the raucous clatter and roar of the approaching train rises to drown them out.
As the train shatters the evening’s tranquillity, so will its arriving passenger presage jarring changes for Hammondsport in the spring and summer to come. On board is Albert Zahm, a dapper man in a carefully pressed suit and straw boater hat. Zahm, the liaison fromthe Smithsonian Institution, is coming to town to oversee the particulars of the aerodrome’s reconstruction.
Zahm’s arrival will mark the start of a swirl of activity unlike anything the residents of Hammondsport have ever seen. Aviation luminary Charles Manly, Langley’s former assistant, will soon join the restoration effort as will Charles Walcott, head of the Smithsonian Institution. Many others with no connection to the aerodrome project will descend upon Hammondsport as well. Elmer Sperry Jr., for instance, comes to town to perfect the automatic airplane stabilizer Glenn Curtiss helped him develop. Earlier in the year, Sperry stunned crowds in Paris with the invention, as he left his airplane’s controls in mid-flight over the Seine while his mechanic climbed out onto its wing. Like many others interested in aviation, Sperry chooses Hammondsport as the best place to advance his aeronautical work.
In the months to come, interest in the Curtiss Aeroplane Company will reach new heights. Curtiss is hamstrung by his lawsuit with the Wrights, but he has managed to
Similar Books
