Lindy at Lunken
The Arrival, 1927
This
publicity photo of Lindbergh with the Spirit of St. Louis is
probably one of
hundreds handed out by Army recruiters to
Cincinnatians just before the 1927
visit. Photo courtesy of the
Cincinnati Aviation Heritage Society.
Eighty-five years ago, the most revered man on the planet climbed out of the Spirit of St. Louis at Turkey Bottoms to the unbridled adoration of a large crowd. Charles Lindbergh's post cross-Atlantic visit to Cincinnati provided the final push for the birth of Lunken Airport, motivating the public that fall to approve a bond issue that would make Lunken one of the world's larger airports. The August 6, 1927, stop was part of
his official 75-city tour to promote aviation and the creation of municipal
airports across the nation. In an advance story, the Cincinnati Enquirer
endorsed the popular sentiment that Lindbergh be treated as a genuine hero.
“Hero worship, after all, is a fine thing,” an uncredited reporter wrote. “It
stimulates the spirit. It inspires the soul. It plants in the hearts of men the
seeds of aspiration and emulation.”
Even the weather welcomed the Lone
Eagle on August 6. Just an hour before he was scheduled to land, rain clouds
threatened to drench the estimated 200,000 onlookers around the city who waited
in sweltering heat. At the last minute, the wind swept away the clouds and
the sun emerged.
Above Lunken, Lindbergh did a quick sideslip stunt, racing
the motor, then cutting if off, allowing the plane to briefly slip sideways. At
precisely 2 p.m., he touched down “amid a clatter of automobile horns and lusty
cheers from the crowd.”
Lindbergh’s solo crossing of the
Atlantic that May had been not only a momentous boon for aviation, but a morale
boost for a world beset by terror, a precarious economy, and political unrest.
His visit shared Cincinnati newspapers’ front pages with news that Nicola Sacco
and Bartolomeo Vanzetti’s long-contested murder convictions had been upheld by
the governor of Massachusetts. The Associated Press reported that police around
the nation and the world were on alert to prevent retaliatory attacks by the
alleged anarchists’s supporters. New York City subways had already suffered two
bombings attributed to sympathizers.
A more immediate threat to Cincinnatians that
summer were the pickpockets who worked the dense crowds that lined Lindbergh’s
parade from Lunken to Redlands Field. At least six street thefts were reported
that day and two arrests were made.
To Americans everywhere, Lindbergh
was seen a symbol of a wholesome, courageous, innovative nation that could
triumph over Bolsheviks, economic collapse, and petty criminals. He did not
disappoint. Speaking at Redland baseball field to an audience that included
many children, he predicted that within a decade airmail service would connect
all major cities in the country.
“If America is to become a flying country, the
movement must have the cooperation of the citizens,” Lindbergh said. “Unless
they back the movement, commercial aviation will not attain its natural growth
in the shortest possible time.” The public’s duty in this new era was to use
air mail whenever possible, begin to travel on commercial flights, and –most
importantly—support tax issues to build sufficient municipal airports
throughout the country.
Plans were already solidly underway in Cincinnati
to make Lunken the region’s major airport. The Lunken Airport Company (LAC) had
formed in the early 1920s with that goal in mind. Led by Eshelby F. Lunken, his
father, Edmund H. Lunken, John Sage, and John W. Pattison, LAC had 126
stockholders. The organization worked closely with the Cincinnati Chamber of
Commerce, former city manager C.O. Sherrill, and former mayor Murray Seasongood
on plans for what was then called Lunken Field.
This
plaque inside the terminal lobby commemorates the
Lunken family’s initial step
in starting the airport.
Photo by Candi Johnson.
Lindberg’s August visit helped to seal public
approval for the project. The public and city officials could not do enough for
the visiting hero. He was given the key to the city. Rookwood Pottery, then one of the world’s premier art potteries,
presented the flier with a tall, dark green vase. A troop of Boy Scouts at
Redland Field gave him an Indian headdress, which he gamely wore for
photographers. At the Hotel Gibson, where 1,300 people attended an evening
banquet in his honor, the pastry chef crafted a model of the Spirit of St.
Louis out of sugar.
The press analyzed every aspect of Lindbergh’s
demeanor as though he were the newest Hollywood heartthrob. His features were
“refined but sturdy.” He was not a “ fashion plate,” although his dark, striped
suit and nondescript tie were deemed appropriate for the occasion. Several
women at the evening banquet were surprised to see him smoking cigarettes. His
mood was somber and quiet, and when he rose to speak, he was forceful and
quick, suggesting a man who would much rather be high in the sky alone rather
than being examined by hordes of curious onlookers. One reporter did note with
satisfaction that Lindberg carried his signature heavy leather jacket with him
when he landed at Lunken.
While Lindbergh’s August 6, 1927, appearance was
the most publicized, it was not his only time in Cincinnati, or at Lunken. Most
of his visits at Lunken were routine stops for refueling or checking equipment.
It’s likely that he was much more at ease on those occasions when he was just
another pilot making a routine flight.
The Enquirer wrote about a refueling stop Lindbergh
made at Lunken in March 1928. He and his five traveling companions visited with
Paul Riddle, vice-president of the fledgling Embry-Riddle Company, which was
poised to help put Lunken into the national spotlight. Their meeting took place
“in the rickety brick house that stands at the end of Davis lane,” the Enquirer
reported. “In the simple surroundings, Colonel Lindbergh forgot he was the idol
of America and again became the rollicking air mail pilot and spoke warmly of
the future of air mail and the future of the aircraft industry.”
On that same visit, he visited Thomas Halpin’s new
factory where the very first Flamingo airplane was just nearing completion. The
flier expressed keen interest in the craft, which became one of the first
all-metal planes built in the U.S.
Elmer Schmidt, who with his brother Melville
operated the Cincinnati Aircraft Service at Lunken’s Hangar 2 for many years,
snapped a photograph of Lindbergh having his Curtiss plane serviced on April
28, 1928. In that snapshot he is wearing a suit and tie. He looks much more
relaxed than he probably was at the Hotel Gibson nine months earlier.
Lindbergh was just one of many pioneering
fliers—male and female—who used Lunken during the formulative years of
commercial aviation. While the famous pilots shone a spotlight on the airport,
it was the everyday mechanics, manufacturers, fliers, passengers, business
owners and airmail users who ultimately made Lunken a long-term success. Just
as Cincinnati’s location at the Miami and Ohio Rivers made it the gateway to
the West in the 19th century, Lunken would propel the region into
the age of air travel in the 20th century.
Sources
“Bomb Menace Alarms World;
Judge Thayer to Hear Motion for New Sacco-Vanzetti Trial,” Cincinnati
Commerical Tribune, August 7, 1927.
“Colonel Lindbergh Queen
City’s Guest at Dinner,” Cincinnati Enquirer, August 7, 1927.
“Col. Lindbergh Urges
Cincinnatians to Keep the City on Air Maps,” Cincinnati Commerical Tribune,
August 7, 1927.
“Howdy! Lindbergh is Guest
of Cincinnati Airport in His Flight to St. Louis,” Cincinnati Enquirer, March
19, 1928.
“ ‘Lindy’ Coming,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, July 20, 1927.
“Pickpockets Fly Trade
Among Crowds Awaiting Arrival of Lindbergh,” Cincinnati Commerical Tribune,
August 7, 1927.
“Sacco and Vanzetti Are
Guilty! Trial Fair! Fuller is Told; Bomb Precautions Taken,” Cincinnati
Enquirer, August 7, 1927.
Schwartz, Isaac H. “Thousands Cheer Lindbergh As He Lands in
Cincinnati,” Cincinnati Commerical Tribune, August 7, 1927.
