A little-remembered, early twentieth-century female pilot strives for the privilege of being the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean but was ultimately edged out by a much more famous name that’s made its way into practically every classroom history book, despite her competition’s better aerial maneuvering skills and experience…
Clear blue skies. Crisp air. A gentle, pleasant breeze. Perfect conditions for any experienced aviator. It was a gorgeous autumn day in New York City, the colorful leaves already changing in late October of 1928, the 21st day to be exact. Hundreds of people had eagerly gathered, and not for a typical reason, like a fun fall festival. Thousands more would soon join to watch one of the greatest spectacles of their time, to witness a stunt so daring, no one had succeeded in doing it before.
In fact, the closest attempt nearly took the life of one brave young barnstormer pilot, who narrowly avoided a fatal collision. That particular incident caused local government officials to enact a temporary moratorium on such aerial antics. After all, modern aeronautics was still in its infancy. Regardless, much was yet to be understood about its complex mechanics and atmospheric logistics. There was no official authority or infrastructure in place, which is precisely what made this harrowing feat so dangerous.
But, none of that scared a feisty seventeen-year-old girl who earned her pilot’s license at the early age of sixteen, the first person in worldwide history to do so. It was a challenge, rumored to be born out of taunts by her male counterparts, that prompted the fearless flapper to attempt such an astonishing flying trick. A bit of acrobatics that few people around the globe could truly appreciate. Still, she wouldn’t back down.
Instead, the youngster casually went about checking her personal equipment and aircraft, a small plane by even those days’ standards. She had to do it all alone, without any guidance, as preflight checklists wouldn’t become a reality until 1935, still seven years away. So, any safety precautions were left entirely to the novice teen flyer, something quite unthinkable today.
She checked her fuel level and controls, thinking about the dangerous route, without any flight plan to follow. It was all pure instinct and keen eyes at this point in aviation, as the first instrument flight wouldn’t occur until September 29th, 1929, when Lieutenant James H. Doolittle of the U.S. Army Air Corps would successfully take off and land blind. Still, without a map or instruments, she settled into the cockpit, pulling her aviator hat down over her head and cinching the chin strap tight, before situating her goggles over her eyes.
“Are you sure you really want to do this Elinor?”
“Yes; I’m sure!”
“Then, the best of luck to you!”
“Thank you, I’ll see you soon!”
Elinor cranked the engine, the propeller began twirling inconsistently, before the biplane’s motor rumbled, then buzzed loudly as the blade turned so fast, that the fuselage started to shake and rattle, causing the young woman to check her harness and pull it tight. An instant later, the wheels began to slowly turn, the engine generating so much power, the entire aircraft started to roll, inch by inch. There was no turning back now as thousands occupied every nook and cranny of open space along the East River, waiting with bated breath for the plane to take off.
Elinor grabbed the controls, thinking the runway never looked so short or narrow, as she began to steer the biplane down the pavement toward the water. The tail swayed from side to side before the craft hit its stride, rolling down the middle of a strip lined with spectators – people who hoped to catch a glimpse of avionic history and tell their first-hand accounts of what they witnessed to future generations to come.
The runaway shortened and shortened as the plane neared the water, she could see the waves of the river rolling back and forth as the plane started to gain its first bit of altitude off the pavement. Just as the winged craft floated into the air, totally off the ground, the strip under abruptly ended, leaving the safety of land behind.
Hundreds of onlookers simultaneously gasped, as aspiring photographers and journalists attempted to capture the moment in pictures. Their heads turned in nearly perfect unison as the small aircraft whizzed up into the sky, climbing higher and higher. Twenty feet. Thirty feet. Forty feet. Fifty feet. It rose and rose until Elinor leveled it out, about one-hundred feet above the East River, gliding far over the flowing current below.
But, it was only the beginning. In a very short time, the most audacious stunt in flight to that day would challenge every little bit of her brief experience – putting her undeveloped skills to the ultimate test – even though the entire route was less than ten miles and about as many minutes. Still, she couldn’t afford one mistake, not even a small one. Any error, no matter how slight, could take her life in an instant. Vigilance was of the utmost importance now.
Regardless, no matter how outlandish, how incredible this intrepid feat seemed, it wasn’t the first time little Elinor had defied the odds. In fact, she had been pushing the envelope for many years, starting at the tender age of six.
“I don’t care how safe it’s supposedto be, it’s just too dangerous Tom!”
“Now, now, Agnes, I’ve been relying on planes to fly me from one city to another for years. You know how much I dislike trains and I’ve always found the trips more convenient and better yet, a whole lot more invigorating.”
“But, I’m certainly not in a hurry to put our daughter in an early grave.”
“I understand your trepidation, Agnes. However, the fact of the matter is that it is safe. The Farman pusher is a fine piece of aircraft and I know she’ll just love the feel of the wind rushing through her hair and the thrill of the takeoff!”
“Tom, it’s not that I don’t want Elinor to have fun. It’s just that I’m afraid she’ll get hurt – or worse. I’d like her to make it to her seventh birthday and well beyond.”
“Don’t worry, she’ll be just fine…I’ll see to it, dear!”
The Farman pusher biplane was indeed one of the most popular crafts of the day. It was a favorite among pilots for its design, reliability, and ease of use. Although, it wasn’t perfect by any means. The planes were heavy, a bit awkward compared to single-winged aircraft, created more drag because of their configuration, and top speeds were limited. What’s more, being open meant having to brave the elements – excessive, loud wind, cold, heat, snow, rain – whatever Mother Nature conjured up.
Still, this generation of biplanes was a huge improvement over their predecessors. The first ones built were made almost entirely of wood and canvas. So, rain, snow, and ice bogged them down. Plus, any spark could ignite just about any part, causing fire to erupt suddenly and spread quickly, consuming the fuel of dry lumber and stretched cloth. Accidents World War I pilots greatly feared, almost as much as having no means of escape – the tiny cockpits were too small for them to wear parachutes.
But, flying through the air on a bright sunny day, seeing so far out into the distance, and eyeing details of the terrain never seen before was an exciting proposition for the six-year-old. And that’s precisely what little Elinor got. Up in the air, she could see the majestic Atlantic Ocean, Long Island Sound, and got a whole new perspective of otherwise familiar fields. It was something she’d never forget and the occasion inspired her to become a pilot.
From the moment the Farman pusher took flight, she was hooked. It gave her an indescribable feeling of being free as a bird, the realization that the sky was truly the limit, and the recognition she could do anything she wanted – if she put her mind to the task, whatever challenge she faced.
“How was it, dear? Did you like going up in the plane, Elinor?”
“It was great! I loved every minute of it, mom!”
“The pilot told me he’s never seen someone take such great interest in so short a time, Agnes. He said our daughter is a ‘natural’ for being a pilot someday!”
“Is that so, Elinor?”
“Yes! The pilot let me set in his seat. He showed me the controls and told me I could take flying lessons whenever I was ready! I want to go back next weekend!”
“That’s my girl!”
“Now, Tom, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Flying isn’t for such small children, especially, six-year-old little girls.”
“Agnes, we shouldn’t put artificial limits on her aspirations. Still, Elinor, your mother is right – you’re still too young to pilot a plane.”
But Elinor had already fallen in love. It was the most exciting thing she’d ever experienced and growing up in Freeport, Long Island gave her ample opportunity to visit a number of flying fields, as well as some of the most famous pilots in the country.
Elinor would spend every moment she could reading about aviation and take advantage of every single opportunity to be around, in, or up in planes. When she was eight years old, she got her first flying lesson – through very unusual means.
Her father sat her down at the family’s kitchen table, pre-staged with utensils meant to imitate the controls on a plane. Being a vaudeville song-and-dance man, her father Tom intimately knew the impact of a good show and how big an impression a hands-on demonstration could make. Hating trains, he traveled all the time by plane from place to place and gained quite a bit of knowledge about how it worked.
He walked Elinor through an entire takeoff, flight, and landing scenario several times until she could repeat the process on her own. This helped her to imagine what it was like to fly a plane and not just be a passenger.
Over the coming years, she’d take full advantage of her proximity to pilots, airfields, and more, and would sneak in flights – courtesy of her doting father – whenever she could. It was during this time that she met an aircraft engineer who was also an experimental pilot.
“Elinor, I’d like you to meet Mr. Waller!”
“Hello, Elinor! How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine, Mr. Waller. My dad told me you design aeroplanes – is that right?”
“That’s correct, little lady!”
“I’m going to be a pilot someday!”
“You are? Well, just how old are you?”
“I’m fourteen years old…I took my first flight when I was six and I’ve been up at least two dozen times since!”
“Is that so? That certainly qualifies you as a future pilot, I’d say! Tom, if you don’t mind, I think I have the perfect treat for your daughter!”
“Sure, Ralph! Now, Elinor, you go with Mr. Waller here and I’ll be back soon.”
Ralph Waller was at the forefront of flight during its golden era in the 1920s. Formally educated in mechanical engineering and mathematics, he worked for a large manufacturer producing aircraft and related items in the relatively new field of aviation. His ideas and innovations gave him almost total carte blanche by his employer.
For several months, Ralph had been working on a new plane that would catapult the industry forward into the next phase. Being the head of the design and build team, he wanted to show off the creation with someone so enthusiastic who he saw as an embodiment of the future generation of pilots.
“Here it is! What do you think about it, Elinor?”
“Woah! It’s beautiful!”
“Thank you!”
“Did you design this plane, Mr. Waller?”
“Well, I’m one of the engineers, little lady. This is the latest technology in aviation!”
“What makes it special, Mr. Waller?”
“Quite a bit. Would you like to know?”
“Most certainly!”
Ralph Waller walked around the plane, leading Elinor by the hand, encouraging her to touch various components. He even let her climb up and sit in the cockpit and take the controls into her hands. She delighted in every moment, listening intently to everything he said.
“So, those are the latest in flight controls right in your hands.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely different than what I’ve seen before, Mr. Waller!”
“If my team is correct, this should help to set a new trend, maybe even a new standard for the industry.”
“Can it go far?”
“Yes, Miss Elinor, it can go really far!”
“And, what about power?”
“Yep, more horsepower, too!”
“When can we go up in it, Mr. Waller?”
“Well, not today…sorry about that, Elinor. But we’ll be able to take it up sometime, I promise!”
“I’ll hold you to that promise!”
“I look forward to it. Yes, indeed. Just like I’m looking forward to people traveling all over the US and the world in aeroplanes.”
“What? Are ordinary people going to fly planes or fly in planes, Mr. Waller?”
“That’s what we’re working to achieve, little lady.”
“Wow, that would be something!”
“Sure would, Elinor. You see, one day, people will fly all over the globe and it will only take a few hours to go from the East Coast to the West Coast.”
“A few hours, really?”
“Oh, yes. You know, it once took pioneers four to five months to travel the same distance by wagon, and the railroad, four to five days!”
“I guess so. But how is that going to happen, Mr. Waller?”
He paused and signaled for Elinor to exit the cockpit. She reluctantly climbed down and hopped off the wing onto the ground, swinging her hands back and forth. Then, took her by the hand and lead her to his office, promising to share some very important insider secrets with her. It was a fascinating place, full of all kinds of schematics, pictures, and scaled-down model aircraft. Elinor looked around, carefully examining everything she saw that piqued her interest. But, one item caught her attention over the rest and when she asked about it, Ralph told her something she never heard before.
“That’s a photo of the Wright brother’s Kitty Hawk Flyer. It’s a depiction of the events of December 17th, 1903.”
“Oh, I know! The Wright brothers were the first to fly!”
“Actually, they weren’t the first people to fly – they were the first people to control flight!”
“What do you mean, Mr. Waller?”
“The first known human flight happened a long, long time ago, about, oh, over one thousand years ago.”
“A thousand? A millennium?
“That’s right, Elinor. A man named Abbas Ibn Firnas created wings out of silk, wood, and feathers. He actually climbed way, way up a mountainside, and jumped off a cliff from Yemen’s Jabal Al-Arus. He glided for a whole ten minutes before crashing into the ground. He forgot about having to land – can you believe how silly that is?”
“I’d certainly want to land safely!”
“Me too, little lady!”
“But, he wasn’t the only one. There’s even a legend in Greek mythology about a character named Icarus. He created wings of feathers and wax. You see, Icarus was the son of a master craftsman of the era named Daedalus, the man who created the Labyrinth. Icarus’ father, Daedalus, warned his son not to fly too close to the sun. But, Icarus didn’t listen and flew so close, his wings melted.”
“But, that’s just a story, right? It’s just mythology?”
“That’s right, Elinor. But, it shows mankind’s fascination with flying. In fact, two Chinese philosophers, Mozi and Lu Ban, might have created and flew the first kite – probably around 440 BC.”
“Wow! That is something, Mr. Waller!”
“Yep. Even Leonardo da Vinci, the famous artist, came up with a concept for flying. In fact, he drew over two hundred sketches depicting his theories on flying!”
“Come on!”
“No, it’s true, Elinor. Leonardo da Vinci wasn’t just an artist. He was also a scientist and an inventor. He created something he called the ‘aerial screw.’”
“I didn’t know that, either!”
“Uh-huh. So, people have been trying to fly for a really, really long time. But, it wasn’t until ‘03 that the Wright brothers learned to control flight – that’s very important, you know?”
“Sure is, Mr. Waller!”
“But, the Wright brothers didn’t get us where we are now.”
“They didn’t? Well, then who did?”
“A man named Glenn Curtiss. He was a rival to the Wrights, a motorcycle racer and aviation innovator.”
“What did he improve, Mr. Waller?”
“Oh, a lot. He created the aileron. He even designed the first seaplane.”
“Wow! You sure know a lot about flying!”
“Well, it’s not only my job, it’s my passion. And, I’m thrilled to see you have the same zeal for aviation!”
Elinor took this information to heart. It gave her a deeper appreciation for everything that had to go into creating a flying machine. Until now, she didn’t really understand how long mankind had ventured to take to the air. Or, how incredibly difficult it was to solve all the challenges that come with flight. It was this insatiable appetite that motivated her to devote her entire life to flying.
By the age of fifteen, she piloted her first solo flight. Just a year later, at sixteen, she earned her pilot’s license, the youngest person ever to do so. But, she had trouble gaining respect from other pilots, even those around her own age. It was still a segment of life that was totally dominated by men. And, it was this lopsided representation that lead to a number of confrontations. Some were merely jest, but others were snide derision.
One instance, in particular, raised her ire. It occurred in late October 1928, when Elinor was seventeen, only about a month after earning her pilot’s license. A young, brash male barnstormer had bragged about his attempts at various stunts. One of which nearly cost him his life. Hearing this, she inquired about the failed feat. And, what happened next caused her to take on one of the biggest challenges any pilot would dare take.
“If I couldn’t pull it off, I just don’t know who could! Maybe one of those military pilots? Even with my finely-tuned chops, I barely came out alive – just goes to show how dangerous it is!”
“Maybe your ‘chops’ aren’t so sharp?”
“Listen to this feisty little girl, fellows! She actually thinks I’m not top-notch!”
“Hey, I know you’re a daredevil of a barnstormer. But, if you’re as good as you claim, how is it you couldn’t make under one bridge, huh?”
“Well, well. Elinor wants to show us all how the fanciest of fancy flying is really done. That’s a hoot, isn’t it yous guys?”
“Nope…didn’t say I was fancy. But I am a pretty good pilot and I’ve already done plenty of stunts.”
“Sure, sure you have. Look, I’m in my twenties. I’ve been in the air a lot more hours than you have.”
“Maybe you have. But, I think I could do it – just need the right equipment.”
“Okay then, you can use my plane, little girl!”
“Nah…I’d rather fly my father’s Waco Nine.”
“Are you kiddin’? That piece of junk?”
“That ‘piece of junk’ is one of the best planes in the sky!”
“Is that so? Listen to this malarkey, fellows! Elinor here thinks she can fly under the bridge in that pathetic Waco Nine!”
“No…not a bridge. I’ll fly right under four! The Queensboro. The Williamsburg. The Manhattan. And the Brooklyn!”
The cocky barnstormer could barely believe what he heard. This teen girl just couldn’t be serious. But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to let her find out firsthand how hard such a stunt really was. After all, if he couldn’t make it work, then it would take someone with a lot more time in the sky, a natural skillset, and a big heap of luck. So, they agreed to set a date – October 21st, 1928.
That very Sunday, Elinor looked up in delight to enjoy clear blue skies, crisp air, and a pleasant breeze. It was a gorgeous autumn day throughout New York City and particularly so at Curtiss Air Field, the colorful leaves already changing under a cool 66℉.
Hundreds of people had eagerly gathered, and not for a typical reason, like a fun fall festival. Thousands more would soon join to watch one of the greatest spectacles of their time and the ambitious seventeen-year-old was more than eager to deliver.
As the crowd looked toward the airstrip, she casually went about checking her personal equipment and aircraft – her father’s Waco Nine. She had to do it all alone, without any guidance – all safety precautions were left entirely to the novice teen flyer.
Elinor checked her fuel level and controls, thinking about the dangerous route, without any flight plan to follow. It was all pure instinct and keen eyes but she was ready – ready to prove the cheeky barnstormer wrong. Without a map or instruments, she settled into the cockpit, pulling her aviator hat down over her head and cinching the chin strap tight, before situating her goggles over her eyes.
She cranked the engine, the propeller began twirling inconsistently, before the Waco biplane’s motor rumbled, then buzzed loudly as the blade turned so fast, that the fuselage started to shake and rattle, causing the young woman to check her harness and pull it tight. An instant later, the wheels began to slowly turn, the engine generating so much power, the entire aircraft started to roll, inch by inch.
The East River’s edge came faster than ever before as the aircraft started to lift off the pavement. She reacted quickly, climbing into the air steadily – twenty feet, thirty feet, forty feet, fifty feet. Then, continued up to one-hundred feet, where she leveled out and took direct aim toward the Queensboro Bridge. But, as her approach neared, a yacht blocked the way and she had to take immediate evasive action, gliding in the direction of the Queens-side anchorage, where cables hung low, suspending giant wooden swaying blocks, forcing the daring pilot to drop rapidly, nearly skimming the water, flying just ten feet above the waves.
Next came the Williamsburg Bridge. The route looked clear and she only pulled up slightly, gaining a small bit of altitude, about fifty feet into the air. As she approached the span, she was flying nearly seventy feet above the river. Suddenly, a flock of birds appeared, an unnerving sight indeed for any pilot. Such a flock could easily strike and shut down her only engine or hit her right in the face. But, Elinor quickly shifted her aircraft to the side, avoiding the flock in the nick of time.
Now, the Manhattan Bridge was next. This time, no visual impediments. However, as she began to pass under the bridge, an unexpected updraft hit her plane, shaking it violently, causing her to lose her grasp of the controls momentarily. She recovered hastily and aimed the trusty Waco Nine right at the Brooklyn Bridge.
Out of nowhere, a huge Navy destroyer came into sight. The big warship greatly reduced her passing space between it and an oversized tanker traveling south. So, Elinor swiftly flipped her aircraft sideways, narrowly passing through the middle with not an inch to spare.
She rolled the plane back to its upright position and turned it around back in the opposite direction to head back to Curtiss Air Field – triumphant.
Success!
As she flew back to the airstrip where LaGuardia Airport stands today, cheers erupted from the crowds all along the way. The newspapers recounted the entire harrowing feat in great detail the next day, calling little seventeen-year-old Elinor Smith, The Flying Flapper. But, her skill, luck, and newfound notoriety wouldn’t spare her from being punished.
Fortunately, her penalty was extraordinarily mild – a ten-day grounding during which time she was not allowed to fly. Her father, a friend of NYC Mayor James Walker, asked the official to intercede to prevent her pilot’s license from being suspended by the US Department of Commerce.
Later in the same year, 1928, Elinor Smith went on to set a new light plane altitude record of 11,889 feet. It would be the first of many more accomplishments to come. The next year, in 1929, she set four world records. Then, in 1930, she set the women’s solo endurance record in a Brunner Winkle Bird, an open cockpit aircraft, after flying a full thirteen hours and sixteen minutes in frigid January air over Roosevelt Field. Also in 1930, she set a speed record for women by flying at a neck-breaking 229 mph.
Alongside co-pilot Bobbie Trout in Los Angeles, she flew forty-two hours, setting the first refueling record for a woman. She served as the first woman test pilot for Fairchild Aviation Corporation and Bellanca Corporation. Smith was also a founding member of the Long Island Early Fliers.
But, when it came time to claim the title of the first woman pilot to fly across the Atlantic, Elinor Smith would not get the honor, even though she was named the best female pilot in America in 1929, beating out another woman whose name would go down in history. On May 21st, 1932, Amelia Earhart touched down in Londonderry, Northern Ireland after flying solo for fifteen straight hours.
In 1960, Smith piloted a T-33 jet trainer and would continue to fly for many years to come. In 2001, at the age of 89, she flew an experimental plane known as the C33 Raytheon Agate at Langley Air Force Base. It would be her last flight. Elinor Smith died nine years later at 98 on March 19th, 2010.
