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BIPLANE RACE, TELLS OF FLIGHT [[image]] [[caption]] Lieut Milling. [[/caption]] Winning the biplane race today gave me great pleasure, but no more than did the reception I got from the people along the route. It was splendid. Ovington made a great flight, and although I only had a biplane I tried to catch him but I lost my way. When I flew I used a map, for I never was a good hand at using a compass. When I reached a place called Burlington I followed the railroad to the west side and it seems that I struck a branch line to Concord. The first thing I realized I was going back toward Boston. It was then I landed in Concord and inquired where I was and got my direction. Like Mr Ovington I suffered bitterly from the cold and at Providence I was forced to borrow a raincoat in an effort to keep the life in me. It seems as if I had the ague from the time I left Nashua until I reached Boston. I did my flying high. On the road to Nashua I flew about 2000 feet in the air and was about the same hight when I passed from there to Worcester. I went 1000 higher down the valley to Providence, but on the trip to Atlantic I dropped back to 2000. I guided myself by the Blue Hill observatory. Strange to say I did not locate the bonfire, but the fire bombs gave me the road to the field. The flash in the air showed me the road. The arrangements were perfect everywhere except in Providence, where the lines were not drawn tight enough to hold the populace. If my engine had not worked beautifully there might have been a slaughter. That Mr. Atwood met with an accident, which prevented his continuing I am very sorry. He is a great aviator and I would liked to have had him go through without trouble of any kind. T.D. Milling MRS OVINGTON DELIGHTED WHERE ATWOOD AND STONE LANDED BEDFORD. Top Picture Shows Stone's Monoplane, Lower one Wood's Biplane Two of the aviators who engaged in the interstate flight yesterday landed in Medford within a short time of their leaving the starting point at Squantum. They were Arthur R. Stone and Harry N. Atwood. They came down on the marsh near the old Mystic turnpike within 15 minutes of each other and they lay for several hours about half a mile apart. Stone alighted first. While over the Charlestown navy yard a pipe from the gasoline tank burst. He realized at once that he was bound to descend so he manouvred for a good place to come to the ground. He found it on the marsh just in the rear of the racing track and came gently to the grass at about 11:40. About 15 minutes later Atwood came circling to the ground just inside the old mile track of the Mystic driving park. Atwood had his father as a passenger in his biplane. Stone was alone, hurried to a telephone and called up the aviation field at Squantum. He called for George Frank Lawson of the Burgess-Wright company and told him of his landing. W. Starling Burgess [[?]] the company was also at Squantum [[?and]] he accompanied Lawson at once [[?to]] Medford to inspect the machine. Atwood stated that he was forced to make a landing because he could not maintain altitude. This was due to the additional weight which the biplane had to support because of the presence of the elder Atwood. After leaving the aviation field, the machine rose to a fairly good height. Lawson, after talking with Atwood, estimated that the machine must have obtained an elevation of 1000 feet when passing over Boston and Charlestown. Then it began gradually to descend. Atwood made every effort to keep in the air, but he finally saw that his efforts were useless and he looked for a good place to land. People who saw him approach the ground say that he came down gracefully. He circled two or three times about the old Mystic park and then settled down on dry and hard land. A curious crowd collected as soon as the machine was on the ground. They got so close about Atwood and the [[?biplane]] to make an inspection. He went to telephone again, and therefore, called up the Medford police. He asked if he could not have a detail of men to keep the crowd back, and half a dozen officers with ropes and stakes were sent to the scene. They drove back the crowd, which had reached the proportions of 1000 or more, drove the stakes in the ground and roped the aviator and his machine in. When Messrs Burgess and Lawson reached the scene a thorough examination of the engine and the machine itself was made. Lawson said that the engine was all right. Owing to the delay, however, Atwood decided he would withdraw from the race, as he could not hope to finish in any sort of time. It was different with Stone's monoplane. While it lay within 100 yards of the Mystic turnpike, there is a deep ditch in the marsh over which it could not be hauled to the road itself, so it had to be dismantled on the marsh and taken piece by piece to the roadway. It was then carted to the aviation field. When Stone in his monoplane was first noticed by the people at Medford, he was well over towards the Glenwood Station. Then he [[?reled]] to the south and [[?]] marsh toward [[?]] he dropped in a plot of soft [[?]] the machine was in no way [[?]]. OVINGTON'S OWN STORY Continued From the First Page me. Rarely is it possible for a man to gain honors at home. Invariably he must go abroad. I was fortunate, however, for here in Boston I have had my greatest success. The only regret I have on the day's flying was that Stone met with an accident. One likes to win, but I would much prefer to have had to fight all the way with Stone and then lose, than have a game and willing little chap like Stone meet with such a simple accident and be unable to proceed. He actually thought that he would win and, being without fear as regards the dangerous course, it is a pity that he had such tough luck. I wish him better luck next time FOUND PROVIDENCE CROWD "CRAZY WITH JOY." The flight was a hard one and there is no question but what if a man had trouble in some spots he might have been worried before he got a landing place, but if a man is to fly cross country he must expect to take his chances. You cannot always have a lawn of a 10-acre size to land upon. One objection I had to the management of the affair, and that was the way the crowd overran the field at Providence. There it was positively dangerous. Thousands swooped upon the field the moment I landed, but the real trouble was when I tried to start from there to Boston. The field was packed with people and when I started the crowds were within 15 feet of my wings and about 50 yards in front. Fortunately I knew that my engine was working like a charm or I would not have dared to leave the field. If it had stopped after it once left the ground, God only knows what injury it might have caused. However, one cannot blame the people for running over the field. They simply went crazy with joy, and I must say that the reception they gave me will be long remembered. At Nashua and Worcester, and of course at Atlantic, where it [[?]] expected, the conditions were excellent. At Nashua the only ones inside the horse track where I came down were a handful of officials and a few newspaper men as well as two photographers. I had all the room I wanted and I must say that the police at Nashua, Manchester and other New Hampshire cities who were on the job are entitled to great credit for the masterly manner in which they handled the thousands of spectators. I was told it was the greatest crowd that ever attended the fair, being estimated at 50,000, and I believe it. When I arrived at Worcester the same excellent policing ruled, but in that city it was even more strict as regards persons on the field. About the only man I saw was Mr L. J. Sweeney, a Globe reporter. He stole a march on the other newspaper men, for he gave me a message to deliver to Mr Philpott, the Globe aviation editor at Atlantic. I carried it all the way in my pocket, and when I reached the field at Squantum the first Massachusetts aeroplane mail delivery was completed. My congratuations to Worcester [[incomplete]] [[?]] and turned for miles without a [[?]]. After being in the air about 40 minutes I decided that I must be somewhere in the neighborhood of Nashua and began to keep a sharp lookout. After a time I saw a little hollow with a ring of people packed solid. Everything appeared to be lilliputian, but I decided that it must be the place, otherwise so many persons would never be congregated there. I began to gradually point the machine toward the ground, and soon was convinced that I had reached the first control. The air was clear as a bell and one could see for miles. When I got down to within a few hundred feet of the ground I saw that not only had I found the place, but had approached it at a perfect angle to cross the tape. In fact, I barely shut off my engine and [[?glided]] across the finish line, being [[?]] the time, I believe, not more than a yard or so from the turf. I was fortunate in making such a perfect landing, for the machine was not [[?red]] in the least. Wife Wants to Hear His Voice. The officials were very kind and considerate and offered to do anything for [[?my]] comfort, after which they brought me up in the stand used in the trotting races and from there introduced me to the big crowd that packed the grandstand and homestretch of the half-mile track. From there I tried to 'phone my wife to let her know I was safe, but had to compromise on a telegram. There is a little story attached me telephoning my wife, for now I [[?just]] always do it. At Chicago I fell into lake Michigan and some well intentioned person said I made a beautiful landing on a vast lawn. Now she [[?must]] hear my voice to be satisfied that all is well. After complying with the rules of flying one hour at the control I again climbed into my machine, prepared to [[?]] the route that was pronounced dangerous; and to be candid it was not by any means one that could be considered perfect. Still, as I remarked before, the bitter must be taken with the sweet, when all make a whole. Luckily I did not have to try and determine for my own or any other person's satisfaction if it would have been hazardous [[incomplete]] [[?]] was no harm done–in fact, it only being not so gentle as the previous one–I had no complaint to make. As in Nashau the [[?committee]] [[?]] [[incomplete]] half freezing me. The motor, however, was of the greatest consideration and when I passed over what I [[?]] [[incomplete]] [[advertisement]] [[advertisement]] [[incomplete]] Ovington Swooping Down Upon The Field at Atlantic at [[image]]
