Eddie Stinson, that colorful and beloved figure of American aviation,
has gone West. But the many stories that cluster around his almost
legendary name, live on.
Dick Blythe, the man who handled Lindbergh's publicity just after
Lindbergh's return from Paris, tells me this one about Eddie. Eddie told
it to him.
Eddie was working with a crowd that was representing the German Junkers
plane in America. One of the things they were trying to do was sell it
to the Post Office Department for use on the air-mail lines.
To attract attention to the superior performance of the ship Eddie
decided to make a non-stop flight from Chicago to New York. He decided
to fly straight over the Alleghanies.
Flying the Alleghanies is common nowadays, what with modern equipment,
lighted airways, blind flying instruments and radio. But in those days
it was a feat.
Eddie was delayed in taking off and didn't get over the mountains until
after dark. Then his imagination began to work overtime.
That happens to a great many of us many times. A motor can be running
along perfectly until you get over a spot where you can't afford to have
it quit. Then you begin worrying about it and can invariably find
something wrong. If all the motors quit under the conditions that all
pilots fear, there would be as many wrecked ships scattered over the
country as there are signboards.
Anyway, Eddie got to thinking his motor was rough. But he was prepared
for the situation. He reached down under his seat and pulled out a
bottle of gin. He took a long swig and listened to his motor again. It
had smoothed right out.
Every once in a while the motor would get rough again, and Eddie would
reach down and take another swig. He said it took him the whole quart of
gin to smooth that motor out and get the ship over the mountains and
onto Curtiss Field.