His 32nd birthday—and what a present for Donald Douglas.
The Douglas World Cruisers, now the four of them assembled at Sandy Point, in Washington State, floated at their moorings on April 4, with fog conspiring to ground them for the day.
The crowd dispersed, only to return the next morning. Would this be it? April 5? But no, that morning, Major F.L. Martin—the flight’s commander—broke the prop on ship number one, the Seattle.
The morning of the 6th held promise, and the promise held as the quartet departed at long last, to the cheers of the crowd.
Donald Douglas and Lt. Eirk Nelson share a candid moment on departure day. [Credit: Douglas/”Sky Master”]
An image of Douglas and Nelson shows the easy stance between them—they’d struck up a friendship during Nelson’s months of duty in stationed in California preparing the ships for the flight. Douglas’ face remains gaunt, perhaps from the illness he’d just come through, or from the stress and worry ahead of the biggest moment of his professional life to that point.
Bets went against the four airplanes making it around the world—or even making it through Alaska. But they launched for Prince Rupert, British Columbia, under the escort of a gaggle of well-wishing aircraft. They would only follow along for a few miles… and then the Cruisers were on their own.
On their way up to Seattle, the Douglas World Cruisers could not make the journey nonstop.
At least not three of them traveling together, the Seattle, the Chicago, and the Boston. The trio landed on March 19, 1924, at the Vancouver Barracks, in Vancouver, Washington, just across the Columbia River from Portland, Oregon.
They attempted to continue northbound, but the weather forced them to return to the Barracks to wait it out.
“The flight arrived at Vancouver, Wash., at 12:05 p.m., time of flight being 1 hour, 5 minutes. Vancouver is directly across the Columbia River from Portland. We were met by the mayor of Portland, the mayor of Vancouver, General Kuhn, the Commanding General of Vancouver Barracks, and many others of prominence in addition to a large crowd from Portland and Vancouver.”
-Major F.L. Martin, Army Air Service, Pilot of the Seattle [courtesy of the National Park Service website: https://www.nps.gov/articles/douglasworldcruiserspearson.htm]
A Douglas World Cruiser being serviced at the Vancouver Barracks on the flight up to Seattle. [Credit: Willard Carroll/National Park Service]
Reflecting this week on the scrum to be the new Boeing CEO—or those distancing themselves from the fray—I’m reminded of one leader whose passing happened earlier this year, Horst Bergmann.
Bergmann was chairman and CEO of Jeppesen when I first joined the company from 1997 to 2000. A German Air Force navigator, he joined Jepp’s German division in 1963 after graduating from business school, rising to lead Jeppesen GmbH from 1977 to 1987, after which he was named president and CEO of the entire enterprise.
Horst Bergmann invested 40 years of his career in Jeppesen and its teams. [Credit: Boeing/Jeppesen]
Horst led with grace and the ability to listen, a trait noted by Mark Van Tine, a mentor and friend who was CEO of Jepp when I returned (a “boomerang” period from January 2012 to April 2014, when I led Aviation Training Solutions).
“Amazingly, I remember the exact moment I met Horst,” said Mark in an email to me. “On October 26, 1989, Jeppesen had just closed on the purchase of Lockheed DataPlan, Inc., and I was called up to the conference room in DataPlan’s Building 90 to have an ‘interview’ with Jim Terpstra [who retired in 2004 as SVP of Aviation Affairs] and Horst. The three of us talked for about 15 minutes (actually, as you might expect, Jim did most of the talking, and Horst and I just listened!).
“I still can vividly remember looking across the table at the German with big, bushy eyebrows and wondering about what was to come. That was the beginning of a relationship that truly had a profound impact on my life.”
Horst led Jepp through the first part of its transformation from a monopoly, a sole source of paper-based navigation into the digital world of integrated aviation services. During my first period there (1997-2000), Jepp had introduced Q service, and then JeppView charts on CD-ROM. Electronic flight bags had just stepped into the mainstream, and the FAA still wasn’t quite sure what to make of them. Oh, how far we’ve come!
Mike Pound, who served in Jeppesen’s corporate communications, also remembered learning more of Horst’s personal story. “After he retired, I knew him because we both were foundation board members, [and] we developed a warm relationship.
“I sat through several media interviews with him,” Pound continued, “and, as I learned his story, I was amazed. He grew up in post-WWII West Germany in a village that was decimated by the war. He then wound up at this company that had a contract with the Army Air Corps—Jeppesen GmbH—and when that contract expired, he went out and solicited commercial customers. Had he not succeeded, I don’t think Jeppesen would have become what it was. Awesome man.”
Early on in my first round at Jepp, I was invited to one of Horst’s “breakfast roundtables,” and I can still picture it. In fact, I learned an important lesson—he asked me, as a new employee, what surprised me after coming to work at Jepp. I said that as a pilot, I was surprised how few other pilots seemed to work there… you can image how that went over! Rightly so, he pointed out the many, many things that are important to a company like Jepp that tap into a huge range of other talents. My 28-year-old self was mortified—but I learned from it. Yes, there are roles where that background is required, but so many where other skills come first.
Horst retired in 2003—handing the reins over to Mark—just three years after Boeing purchased Jepp from Tribune, which had “flipped” the company after its purchase from Times Mirror.
As Boeing casts about for new leadership, I can’t help but be reminded of those effective leaders that challenged me while at the same time nurturing my growth. To a person, they had in common the ability to listen, to take in opposing viewpoints, and steer the outcome in a way that brought the team along with them. They have been deeply invested in that outcome, and not for personal gain but as part of a long-term strategy.
GE Aerospace’s Larry Culp has risen to the top as a natural candidate for Boeing’s chief, but I respect his stated desire to see through what he’s started as the OEM’s top supplier. As reported in Aviation Week, when asked if he would take the mantel as a service to the U.S.: “You know how important what we do underwing is to Boeing. So, GE Aerospace is important [to national security] too.” Bravo to you, Larry, for your desire to see through what you’ve invested in.
While an engineering background may not be an absolute requirement to lead Boeing (see the lesson above about pilots), an outsider selected for financial acumen only just feels like piling another bad decision on top of the whole mess.
The quartet of airplanes made their way up from California to the Seattle area beginning on March 17, with high hopes.
From Sky Master: The Story of Donald Douglas: “For half a year the Air Service had been working on the final plans on their aerial expedition. The flight was to leave from Santa Monica, cover some twenty-two countries and approximately 25,000 miles, [and] return to Santa Monica in August.
“The foreign lands to be visited or flown over were Canada, Alaska, Russia (the Kamchatka Peninsula), Japan, China, Indo-China, Siam, Burma, India, Persia, Mesopotamia, Syria, Turkey, Greece, Bulgaria, Rumania, Yugoslavia, Hungary, Austria, Germinay, France, England, Scotland, the Danish Faerce Islands, Iceland, and Greenland.
The globe-circling course as viewed from the North Pole also carried the images of several crew from the Douglas World Cruisers round-the-world flight. [Credit: From “Sky Master: The Story of Donald Douglas,” by Frank Cunningham]
“During the flight, the airmen were to soar over numerous bodies of water, such as the Gulf of Alaska, North Pacific Ocean, Yellow Sea, China Sea, Gulf of Siam, Bay of Bengal, Persian Gulf, The Straits, English Channel, the North Sea, the North Atlantic Ocean, the Denmark Strait, the Davis Strait, and the Gulf of St. Lawrence.”
But that was if the intrepid adventurers could make it past the western coast of the United States.
Misfortune descended upon Captain Martin’s airplane, the Seattle. As he flew up the San Joaquin Valley towards points to the north, Martin made a forced landing. From Sky Master: “He didn’t know it then, but that was nothing compared to what was to come a short time later.”
Today, on #JustJuliesTakes, I ask the question I heard a couple times last week at the Women in Aviation International conference:
Do We Still Need “Women in Aviation”?
The raw numbers say yes—the percentage of pilots holding ATPs that are women has doubled, but when you start at 3.5% just a few decades ago the meaningful change still leaves much room for growth.
The nature of what it means to be a pilot is changing, as we move away from manual skill towards systems management. The breadth of roles is increasing too, with a variety of piloting jobs available—including those from flight instructor to tourist flights to the super short-haul routes promised by eVTOLs that allow a parent to stay home every night. This reduces a key “barrier to entry” particularly for women who are primary caregivers.
And, though the spectre of forcing people into “traditional roles” keeps popping up even in the U.S., changing attitudes towards women working internationally have reached a tipping point in so many countries that we can consider a future when perhaps this isn’t a “thing”—and we’re serving on an equivalent to the flight deck of the Starship Enterprise, where each person contributes according to their talents and skills. (Thank you “Dragon Lady” Merryl Tengesdal for giving me that analogy.)
Speaking of which, both Dragon Lady (a U-2 pilot) and Caroline Jensen (“Blaze,” a Thunderbird) are moms. In our generation, we went from “no women fighter pilots” to this, normalizing these multifacted roles. Moms are soooo badass!
As for how each woman pilot found our way into the cockpit, all I can say is it’s been through our individual means. Some folks are self-directed and appear to need little encouragement, and some need real prodding before they figure out how to shine on their own. Many of us didn’t “need” WAI or the 99s or ISA+21… but those groups have been here to support us and cheer us on anyway. For others, the “hand up” has been priceless.
I foresee a time—10 years? 20?—when we no longer need the distinction of WAI and the 99s any more than we’ll have the QBs (Quiet Birdmen).
Maybe then, the conference will remain the main event, but simply settle into its role as a careers conference for all genders to attend—kinda like today—one that just so happens to do what it does better than most other venues for networking and recruitment. Maybe because we have made it such a nurturing environment that all young professionals appreciate. And it does so around the core of celebrating women within its sectors.
Hey—it’s kinda there already, a marvelous pathway for a diverse group of people to learn about all the roles possible in aviation. Not just pilots.
And as long as we need the beacon to shine the light for more people to follow and join our ranks, we need to preserve as many pathways into the dream as possible.
The foundation for the Douglas Aircraft Company started with a woman’s financial support: Charlotte Douglas married Donald in 1916, and cashed in a life insurance certificate she had in savings of $2,000 in 1922 to help launch Douglas Aircraft following his break with Davis.
Charlotte also led the team of women who hand-stitched the fabric covering the wings and fuselages of the Cloudster and Douglas World Cruisers, and performed subsequent detail work within the shop.
Women crafted the fabric covering for the fuselage and wings of the Douglas World Cruisers. [from “Together We Fly: Voices From the DC-3” by Julie Boatman Filucci]
She served as the social director, a counterpoint to Donald’s reserved nature, up until their bitter divorce in 1953.
Douglas, however, was far from finished with having women serve in vital roles for the company.
Peggy Tucker began her time with DAC in the 1930s as a driver, and worked her way up into roles ever closer to “Doug”—to the point where they began an affair leading to their marriage as soon as the ink was dry on his divorce.
As Peggy Douglas, she installed herself literally as the gatekeeper to the executive suite—not as a secretary but as the corporate deputy to Doug.
March 17, 1924, marked a St. Patrick’s Day to remember for the Scottish Douglas clan of Southern California.
While recovering from the illness that had barred him from attending the events surrounding the impending departure of the Douglas World Cruisers, Donald Douglas surely smiled at least a little bit. For his ambition to grow the Douglas Aircraft Company by means of incredible feats of aviation history were about to take flight.
Robert Arnold, grandson of Douglas and Gen. Henry “Hap” Arnold, recalled his mother Barbara’s memory of her own grandmother’s recollection of the occasion. “Granny [Arnold came] up for some of these events from San Diego, and during one of them, Hap put her in the back seat of [one of] the World Cruiser[s] and took her up for a spin. And Granny was about 4 foot 10 inches and always wore big hats, and always a charming and, for her time, a highly educated woman.”
The Douglas World Cruisers lined up at Clover Field on the departure day, March 17, 1924. [Courtesy of the Santa Monica Public Library]
“Doug” watched the send off in a checkered cap and horn-rimmed glasses, striving to look the part of the nonchalant man-of-the-world he strove to be.
On the morning of the grand departure, the airplanes stood ready to go, but fog blanketed Clover Field. After a two-hour delay, three of Cruisers lifted off. It was 9:30 a.m., according to “Sky Master.”
What about the fourth? Lt. Nelson’s airplane, Ship Number Four, the New Orleans, sat in San Diego, only just completed the day before. Nelson made his way up the coast solo to join his compatriots in Seattle.
Of all the best laid plans, the launch of an around-the-world flight still ranks as a prodigious undertaking—and that’s in the modern era, with reliable aircraft, satellite imagery, and global weather sourcing. Any number of calamities grave and minor could conspire to scuttle the start of the epic journey proposed by the U.S. Army Air Corps for its quartet of Douglas World Cruisers.
Still, hope springs eternal—and certainly it did in the Roaring Twenties. March 16, 1924, was selected as the target, and the city of Santa Monica hosted its World Flight Day on that pleasant Sunday. With a high of 65 degrees F and no precipitation, it would have made a perfect day to take off from Clover Field for points north but for one thing.
The entire Douglas family—at the time, Donald, Charlotte, Donald Jr (born in 1917), William (1918), and Barbara Jean (1922)—fell ill to whooping cough and missed the festivities. The family would catch up to the mighty DWCs as they were prepped to go in Washington state a couple of weeks later.
And who would fly these ships of wood and metal and fabric around the world? Each one would carry a pilot and a technician—one to fly and one to keep it flying—and the roster represented what the Air Corps considered to be its top ranking pilots, as well as ones capable of the mission ahead.
In Ship Number One: Major F.L. Martin, commander of the World Flight and Commandant of Chanute Field in Rantoul, Illinois; and Staff Sergeant A.L. Harvey, mechanic.
In Ship Number Two: Lt. Lowell Smith, a transcontinental ace and holder of the world’s endurance record at the time; and Technical Sergeant A,H. Turner, technician.
In Ship Number Three: Lt. Leigh Wade, former test pilot at McCook Field; and Staff Sergeant A.H. Ogden from the First Pursuit Group in Detroit.
In Ship Number Four: Lt. Erik Nelson, engineering officer for the World Flight; and Lt. John Harding Jr., maintenance officer.
Alternate crew members were there as well: pilots Lt. Leslie P. Arnold, and Lt. LeClair Schulze, a Pulitzer racer in 1922.
As the pilots assembled for the flight, they were supposed to bunk at the posh hotels in Santa Monica, but none would give the DWC crews special rates. I suppose pilots were cheap even back then… fortunately, the Christie Hotel in Hollywood stepped up to the plate.
From “Sky Master”: “Although an excellent hotel, the Christie wasn’t among the blue-blood establishments. The offer was accepted. When the flyers returned as heroes to Santa Monica after encircling the world, the managers of the luxury hotels begged the men to be their guests without any charge. The flyers thanked them, smiled, and returned to the Christie.”
The recent budget proposal from the White House includes a number of positive points—but one stands to kneecap the aviation industry just as it starts to leave the chocks on sustainability.
That’s the proposed 4X increase (from 22 cents to $1.06/gallon over 5 years) in the fuel tax on Jet-A for bizav operators, a line item that surely resonates with the green set, but bodes poorly for the ability to grow capability, capacity, and jobs under the sustainable aviation umbrella. The quest to net-zero by 2050 absolutely depends on it.
Here are my quick takes:
The healthy flow of sustainable aviation fuel (SAF) into the market relies upon the demand for Jet-A. While commercial aviation represents the bulk of the volume, business aviation has the flexibility and higher margins to accommodate the experimentation required to bring new sources of zero-emission fuel into play.
The infrastructure investments required to deliver SAF lean on the ability of local FBOs and governments—and distributors—to justify the cost to equip. With lower flowage into these wide-spread locations, the business case grows even more difficult than it already is in some places.
Bringing aircraft production into the U.S.—and keeping what we have—is central to providing skilled labor with well-paying, satisfying work. Keeping sales and delivery volumes to what they reached in the bizav sector before and after the pandemic is vital to offering these desirable positions.
And, at a time when aircraft OEMs fight hard to secure the workforce they need, the ability to appeal to the younger generation with sustainable aviation projects is critical to attracting the brightest minds to our industry. They want to be part of the solution. Raising the tax on one sector that provides some of the coolest jobs in aviation—across the board from engineers to marketers—is at best shortsighted and at worst a true crux for the industry.
If you pick your way along the paths that front the ocean between Malibu and the Santa Monica Pier, you’d best stay heads up from your phone, lest you get creamed by slender blondes and bronzed others ricocheting past on a run.
That’s not the Santa Monica that Donald Douglas knew—nearly a century has passed since he first walked down to the shoreline from his new house on San Vicente Boulevard in the early Thirties.
The Brown Derby chain opened in the 1920s nearby, with locations on Wilshire Boulevard and in Hollywood. Ballast bobs from the SS Catalina given away as souvenirs in 1923.
What would you have seen, though? I follow a couple of historical accounts on X/Twitter, including Pamela Grayson’s Lost Los Angeles, and the Santa Monica History Museum. Recently they’ve published a few photos from late 1923 into 1924… take a look at the pier that was—and the fire that nearly wiped out the Ocean Park Pier.
The Ocean Park Pier property was acquired just two weeks after the fire for $2 million in 1924 dollars.Aftermath from the February 1924 fire that wrecked the Ocean Park Pier in Santa Monica.The ruins of the roller coaster at the Ocean Park Pier in Santa Monica after the 1924 fire.During the 1924 fire, smoke covered the streets near the ocean in Santa Monica.
This is the scene within which the Douglas Aircraft Company finished assembly and test flying of its Douglas World Cruisers ahead of their planned launch from Clover Field (now KSMO) on March 16.
