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safe and bolster the courage of Mrs. Studenski who was to make her first flight the same day.

There were no concrete runways on the field, no guiding lights, no instructions from a tower. And there were no instruments to help push the plane skyward.

The field was small and grass covered, a bit smaller than Studenski liked. The Ferris Wheel loomed dangerously on one side. Next to it the Roller Coaster appeared to be taking up a lot of ground badly needed for take-offs and landings.

A grove of pine trees and a line of telegraph polls stretching high in the sky lined the other side of the field.

Paul felt a little uneasy. He wasn't sure the plane would rise fast enough and high enough to clear the grove and telegraph wires ahead. But he was willing to risk it.

After all, hadn't he taken off in puny country baseball fields, bumpy pastures and even dusty roads in his aero circus stunting across the United States?

Paul settled in his seat, fastened his belt and signaled the mechanic to turn the propeller. The engine roared. Huge puffs of black smoke snorted out of the exhaust.

Studenski looked back at his wife, adjusted his goggles and signaled the two men holding the plane to release their hold.

The plane pushed forward slowly, then picked up speed and rose sluggishly into the air. It was headed straight for the wires, then turned sharply to the left and banked steeply.

It lost speed on the turn, slid sideways and crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust and splinters, crushing the left wing and a part of the landing gear. 

The crowd gasped. For a few minutes nothing stirred in the wreckage. Then a figure crawled out, limping.

Studenski hobbled around the plane, looking over the wreckage. He seemed more concerned about the condition of the craft than injuries to his own body.

Mrs. Studenski had expected the worst. "She was more shaken up than I was," Paul recalls.

For a month, Studenski was confined to a bed in his Cuyahoga Falls home, nursing torn ligaments. His wife made a decision. It was going to be either Mrs. Studenski or Mrs. Aviation. She insisted that Paul make up his mind.

"I chose Mrs. Studenski," he says.

The June 16, 1913 edition of the Akron Beacon Journal carried this account of the crash:

The headline read:

Academy guest lecturer Walter Hoadley, Treasurer of Armstrong Cork talks with Dr. Studenski, Dean Collins, Martin Gainsbrugh.

[[image - Walter Hoadley, Paul Studenski, Dan Collins, Martin Gainsbrugh]]

[[image - Paul Studenski, lecturing to students]]

Paul Studenski, makes his point in course on Government Fiscal Policies. He's a hard man to argue with-he wrote the book.

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