Viewing page 20 of 105

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

He Alights at the Fair Grounds.

By LAWRENCE J. SWEENEY.

WORCESTER, Sept 4 - A great crowd poured into this city today to greet the aviators in the Globe's $10,000 contest. And not one of that vast concourse of people who literally swarmed over the grounds of the Worcester county agricultural society on the outskirts of the city, and on every available eminence in the different parts of the city, were disappointed.

They came to see, and they did. 

They saw Earl L. Ovington, an American aviator, who, with Arthur B. Stone, another 
American, were the only birdmen who had the courage to start in monoplanes from the Atlantic aviation field, loom up on the southeastern horizon just above the the hill-surrounded city and later glide gracefully upon the open inclosure surrounding the half mile race track at the fair grounds, the ultimate winner of the Globe's $10,000 tri-state, cross country flight.

They saw, for the first time, a real aeroplane in flight. They observed, and intently, too, the monoplane grow from the merest black speck against the fleece-like clouds that floated, almost at a standstill, fully a mile in the heavens, to a thing of form.

Larger and larger did the dot in the heavens grow until it could be plainly seen to be moving!  Gradually--first slowly, and then more rapidly--the smudge against the snow-white clouds assumed proportions.

Every instant brought the monoplane nearer and every fraction of a second made its contour more pronounced against the background of light vapor and turquoise-blue sky.

Worcester enjoys the distinction of being the home of the inventor of an airship that has been reported to have accomplished wonderful things in the air, but Worcester people, nor the thousands who poured into the city by trolley, motor, animal power or by human locomotion, had ever seen this much-talked-of invention in actual light.

Balloons have passed over this inland country, but never until today has an aeroplane soared over the territory of central Massachusetts.

Too High to See the Captive Balloon.

To attempt to describe the feelings of the 100,000 people who crowded around the rail of the racetrack at the fair

[[See Note - Remainder of column 1 partially obscured by paper fold.]]
[[/column]]
[[column]]
erly end of the landing enclosure, he applied all the warp to his wind, banking at a steep gradient, and then swooped gracefully down over the heads of the crowds and glided on to the field.

Ovington's was not a picturesque nor altogether a graceful alighting.  He did not land as light as the proverbial feather. The reason for his apparent lack of absolute control of his machine is easily explained, however. At the altitude at which Ovington had flown for the greater part of the time after leaving Atlanic and Nashua--5000 feet--the air was rare and cold. Coming suddenly into the warmer air currents from the earth, his glasses became blurred and sweated and his vision was hampered to such and extent that he coud not judge the distance precisely.

Ovington's monoplane stopped on the grassy infield, with not a single person within 500 feet of him, at just 2:09. Almost instantaneously the stifling hush was broken. The stilled voices sent up a shout of acclaim has seldom been heard by aviator.

The Boston aviator could not comprehend the full volume of the reception. His ears were deafened by the continuous roaring of his 70-horse power motor, but he knew that he was the recipient of such a frenzied reception as few could boast. For a few seconds he sat in his seat opposite the wildly exultant grandstand.  Then, before even his chief mechanician could reach him, he hopped out of his racing machine and stood bowing and smiling to the enthusiastic thousands.
                  ________

Congratulations of Thousands.

After Ovington nimbly leaped to the ground he shed his waterproof jacket and removed his heavy leather helmet and smoked goggles. For the first time the assemblage had an opportunity to see what this wonderful aviator, a true American pioneer, looked like. 

With his handkerchief, he removed the oil and grease with which he was pretty generously bespattered, and then strode toward the tent which housed the committee.

Beneath his heavy canvas coat, he wore two heavy gray sweaters, and as he ambled across the field his every movement was noted by the curious admiring crowd. His heavy shoes, his heavy tweed knee breeches and his greenish-gray stocking were scanned and commented upon.

After shaking hands all round with the officials, and acknowledging the congratulations, he was prevailed upon to show himself, at close range, to the thousands in the stands.

Pres Walter D. Ross of the fair association acted in the role of announcer, but his words of introduction never reached the ears of the crowd. It was Ovington, and the crowd knew it was Ovington. That was enough. Homage must be paid and was paid to the hero of the day in no unmistakable manner.

Hurrying from the stage beside the judges' stand, the Newton boy hurried to the headquarters tent, where a bountiful repast was awaiting him. Hot coffee was offered him, but he declined with thanks, preferring a glass of milk with the cream removed.

"I will have stimulation enough before I get back to Boston, without bothering with coffee," was Ovington's remark, as he set about helping himself to some salad and roast beef and bread.
                __________

Message From Mrs Ovington.

All the time Ovington was preparing to eat, he was inquiring about the method of sending a telegram to his wife at the aviation field at Atlantic. While he was about to write a message, a messenger delivered a few words of greeting from Mrs Ovington. She had "beaten him to it."

This is what the genial, happy and daring aviator read to the group of curious officals:

"Ovington, Worcester:

"Hurrah for you! I bet you're hungry. Hope you enjoy your lunch. Just about to have mine. Keep up the good work."

"Dell."

This is what the loving husband and determined airman dictated to Col Samuel E. Winslow, secretary of the fair association, and which was immediately telegraphed to Mrs Ovington:

 "Mrs Ovington, Atlantic Aviation Field: 

"Thanks for your kind message. Am just enjoying lunch. Dragon Fly never working better and myself in best of health and spirits.

Earle."

[[/column 2]]
[[column 3]]
[[image - cartoon]]
LIEUT MILLING'S START FROM ATLANTIC
[[image of a biplane]]

indicated. Just then I saw a stream to westward, which I knew was the Concord river, and toward that I headed, following its course with my eye until I saw Lowell. I knew it was Lowell because it was the biggest city in sight, and toward this I headed, and left it on the right at a hight of 4000 feet.

"After passing Lowell I looked for the Merrimac river and turned to the right. I felt that I was at least five miles to the east of where I ought to have been, and then it dawned upon me that I was lost. I was wondering all the time where I was and where the field at Nashua could be. But I kept going ahead and continued to look for the smoke bombs or gasoline smoke that had been arranged as signals.

"Flying a direct northwest course, I kept the Merrimac river, which I finally located, about five miles to my right, near enough for me to glide to in case of necessity, and the first definite information of my location came when I discovered the flash from a bursting smoke bomb. I at once turned to the northeastward and soon caught sight of the ring of people, and I knew I was flying for the fair grounds at Nashua.

[[/column 3]]

[[column 4]]

joists it was discovered that he had punctured one of his tires.

After partaking of a bite to eat and replenishing his supply of gasoline and oil Lieut Milling was ready for the word. His departure, and the remainder of the journey for that matter was nearly spoiled by the gasoline tank overflowing and the magneto becoming wet. Fortunately, the damage was discovered and remedied before the start was made.

At 4:15 Lieut Milling resumed his flight, running over the ground for the fully 150 yards before he could get the machine into the air because of the punctured tire and a down wind which blew over a hill directly to the northward.

After getting into the air the army aviator soared about the field until he had reached a sufficiently high altitude, and then he started off in an almost due easterly direction. He had intended to pick up lake Quinsigamond and keep that body of water about two miles to the northwestward, but when the white towers of the Worcester union station appeared he headed to the right of those, hoping to locate the Blackstone river.

[[/column 4]]
[[column]]

Ovington Inspects His Monoplane Before Leaving Worchester for Providence

[[image - b/w photo of plane being readied]]

GLOBE CONTEST WINNER AND HIS FLYING CAREER
[[line]]

First to make Flight in Monoplane Over Boston —

[[/column]]
[[column]]

BOSTON SEEMS
TO HAVE CAL

________

Postal Clerks Wan

Transcription Notes:
Starting with [Too High to See Captive Balloon] to the end, about a third of the left side of the first column missing. The bottom of the page is also missing.