Walking on Air
Page 14
A stunned Phoebe struggled to go on. She later described her husband as “My Beloved Husband and Life’s Greatest Inspiration.” Vernon, she wrote, was “one of the most thoughtful pilots in the world—a trait he managed to hammer home to me—therefore, we had no inkling that we wouldn’t in due time cross the threshold of old age together.” Now she would have to carry on alone, and she was determined to be brave about it: “I have tried to be faithful to the code of smothering all personal grief.”9 She put Vernon’s affairs in order as best she could. She was most concerned with stabilizing his business. The Faulkners offered assistance. Bill recommended his younger brother John for the post of manager of Mid-South Airways, Inc. Bill’s mother, Maud Falkner, provided financial support for the transition.10
Phoebe then took off for New York to fulfill her duty to represent the NAA’s Contest Board at the start of the Bendix Trophy Race from New York’s Floyd Bennett Field.11 The Bendix transcontinental dash was all about speed. There were no limitations on the design or power of the airplanes, and no limitations on the pilots’ choice of route. The shortest time from point A to point B took the prize. The three women entries were all Phoebe’s friends and close associates: Louise Thaden and her copilot Blanche Noyes flew a Beechcraft Staggerwing; Amelia Earhart took Helen Richey along in her new Lockheed Electra; and Laura Ingalls flew solo in her Lockheed Orion. Hampered by ground fog at the start and fighting thunderstorms and rain showers all the way across the continent, Thaden approached Los Angeles “believing I had lost all chance of landing in the money.” Yet, in a joyous upset, Louise and Blanche finished first, defeating some of the world’s best male pilots. Laura Ingalls finished second; Earhart and Richey finished fifth.12
At the finish line, Vincent Bendix and National Air Races director Cliff Henderson, noted Thaden, “looked so crestfallen” at the outcome: a woman had won the Bendix! Thaden captured the $7,000 grand prize as well as the original “consolation prize” of $2,500 for the first female pilot to complete the race. The prize money was “far less gratifying than the pleasure of beating the men,” said Thaden, but pleasant nonetheless. The name of the consolation prize was changed to “Special Award” now that a female pilot had won. Helen Richey remarked that it took them fourteen hours and fifty-five minutes to make up their minds what to call the prize—the time it took for Louise and Blanche to fly from New York to Los Angeles.13
Phoebe returned to Washington after the races and resigned her position with the federal government in order to campaign for Franklin Roosevelt’s reelection.14 In her resignation letter to the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, she explained that “aviation, both military and civil, has been lifted from its former chaotic condition and prospered much under the able guidance of President Roosevelt … Therefore, I consider it my duty, as a pioneer of aviation and as an American citizen to lend my support to help make it possible to continue this upward trend in the aviation industry.”15 NACA secretary J. F. Victory accepted her resignation “without prejudice” while praising her “wealth of experience and judgment and keen zeal for the promotion of safety in flying.”16
Many of Phoebe’s cadre of women pilots were leaving the air-marking program as well. Louise Thaden had decided to spend more time with her small children, Helen McCloskey got married, and Amelia Earhart hired Helen Richey to work for her in planning some future flights. That left Blanche Noyes to carry on with the program.17 As war heated up in Europe, the air-marking program stalled, and then suffered reversal as many of the completed markings were “obliterated to foil possible air invaders.” Noyes found herself in charge of painting over the markings.18
For the 1936 campaign, Phoebe flew a Fairchild four-passenger plane called Victory. She took off from Floyd Bennett Field in New York on 16 September 1936 with Assistant Attorney General Stella Akin aboard.19 Huge letters along the side of the plane read “Roosevelt Fliers,” with “Win With Roosevelt” below that. The underside of the high wing was also painted with the name Roosevelt. Phoebe had wanted to equip the plane with neon lights that flashed “Roosevelt” when she flew at night, but this apparently did not work out.20 From New York, the fliers headed upstate, then west through Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, North Dakota, South Dakota, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, flying back through the central states to New York, and ending their tour a few days before the election. Their “flying stump for the New Deal” covered 10,000 miles, twenty states, landed in 150 towns, and made one emergency landing in a farmyard in Pennsylvania. At each of their stops, including the farmyard where their unexpected arrival attracted a crowd, the women spoke for Roosevelt’s reelection, citing the successes and unfinished business of the early New Deal. For towns where they did not land, Phoebe made it a point to fly low and slow overhead so that folks on the ground could clearly see their message to “Win With Roosevelt.”21
About halfway through their journey, Akin was replaced by Izetta Jewell Miller, a former actress from West Virginia and the first southern woman to run for the U.S. Senate (in 1922 and 1924, both unsuccessfully). The Roosevelt Fliers were the featured guests of endless luncheons, receptions, rallies, and banquets. Miller did most of the speaking, said Phoebe. “I just fly her around. Pretty good team, too, don’t you think?”22 Miller returned the compliment: “Phoebe is a true bird-woman, a safe and sane pilot, and makes a dandy little talk on what the administration has done for aviation in the bargain.”23 Though she was reluctant to speak formally, when given the chance Phoebe spoke passionately about why she was campaigning again for the president:
In the first place, Mr. Roosevelt has done something for the forgotten men of aviation—the little fellow who have been sticking to flying all these years, hoping to make something of it. A great deal has been done for aviation concerns before Roosevelt was elected, but the little guy was being forgotten. Well, since 1932 the New Deal program has included the construction of some 2,000 small airports throughout the country. This has given the little man a new lease on life.24
After the election, she returned to Memphis and reconnected with her old friend, W. Percy McDonald. McDonald had been an original member of the Memphis Aero Club and maintained his close association with the Omlies. Indeed, when Vernon was killed, it was McDonald who offered a grave from his family plot at Forest Hills Cemetery. McDonald and Phoebe began to talk again about how to accomplish Vernon’s dream of aviation training in the public schools. Since first establishing Mid-South Airways, Vernon had advocated making aviation ground school a part of vocational education in Memphis. At one point in the 1920s, he even convinced his congressional representative, Senator Kenneth McKellar, to request that the War Department establish such a program similar to ROTC. In spite of apparent enthusiasm for the idea, funding was never forthcoming. By 1937, even with the Depression, the prospect looked more promising. McDonald was then both the superintendent of Shelby County Schools and chair of the Tennessee Aeronautics Commission. He and Phoebe hatched an idea to dedicate the seven-cents-per-gallon tax on aviation fuel to furthering the aviation industry in Tennessee. This would entail applying 50 percent of the tax revenues to airport improvements and the other 50 percent to funding aviation ground schools in public high schools. Together, McDonald and Phoebe drafted legislation that would become the Tennessee Aviation Act of 1937.25
In January, following his inauguration, President and Mrs. Roosevelt invited Phoebe to the White House for a private informal Sunday night supper. When he asked about her future plans, she said she would very much like to continue working on the issue of aviation safety. She told the president about her work in Tennessee on legislation to fund pilot training with a transfer of fuel tax. They discussed the federal Aviation Act then making its way through Congress, and Phoebe suggested that she was particularly interested in two items: that the air-marking program be established as a permanent part of the airport division (it then existed only at the discretion of the WPA) and that a pilot training program be included. T
he president agreed.26
What he did not do was offer her employment. Since December, she had been trying to secure a new position, calling on the intercession of Molly Dewson, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, and others, for an appointment to the Bureau of Air Commerce. In view of the coming reorganization of aviation agencies, she wrote, she would like to head up the aeronautics division with the title of assistant secretary of commerce. Dewson passed the suggestion on to J. M. Johnson at Commerce, who replied that he did not anticipate such a position being created, adding “Mrs. Omlie is a gifted woman and undoubtedly could be very useful. It would give me pleasure to give consideration to any plan to that end.”27 After Dewson shared this news along with her concern that the agency might not want a woman at the head, Phoebe responded:
Really, Molly, any job connected with the development of aviation is a “he-man” job. It takes someone who has had varied experience and one who is not afraid to let the “chips fall where they may.” … I am really interested in the Interstate Commerce Commission as I fully believe great study and work can be accomplished here, especially if Congress enacts legislation to turn airlines over to them. I have always, and now, more than ever will always devote my life’s work to the development of safety in aviation. The Interstate Commerce Commission does not have one single member who has knowledge of aviation and its problems. Again, I quote you about “he-man.” I agree with them one hundred per cent. But does that really mean sex?28
Dewson responded that she was doing the best that she could to lobby on Phoebe’s behalf, but she was not hopeful.29 Dewson turned to the first lady, reminding Mrs. Roosevelt that Phoebe “still thinks she would be better than the men in putting more safety into aviation if she were head of aviation for the Government.” Given that Phoebe had resigned from her paying job to campaign for the president, furnished her plane free of charge, and honored her pledge to campaign even after learning of her husband’s death, Molly suggested that the first lady at least invite Mrs. Omlie for tea to discuss the matter.30
Then came the break Phoebe had been waiting for. On 18 April 1937, she hastily posted a telegram to Molly Dewson:
MAJOR SHROEDER ASSISTANT DIRECTOR OF THE BUREAU OF AIR COMMERCE RESIGNED YESTERDAY STOP I AM NOT A HE MAN BUT I KNOW I HAVE MORE EXPERIENCE THAT ANY OTHER IN THE BUREAU STOP I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE THIS VACANCY STOP REGARDS PHOEBE
Dewson promised to show her telegram to the first lady while cautioning Phoebe not to be overly optimistic. She observed that “in spite of our progress, every time we get a woman located in a prominent place, it’s an achievement.”31 On her periodic list of concerns and messages that Dewson forwarded to Mrs. Roosevelt to share with the president, Dewson included her friend as Item No. 4: “Phoebe Omlie: Greatly discouraged because a College Professor with no commercial experience whatever in aviation has been appointed on the Safety Program in her place.”32 Mrs. Roosevelt privately responded to Dewson that she had been told that “Phoebe Omlie had come in with an attitude of knowing it all and had never been persona grata with anyone. Mr. Vidal came to see me Monday and said he thought it was going to be impossible for her to do any work there. The feeling was strongly against her before this had come up. I made the suggestion … that they try to get her something with an aviation company … There is no use of her trying to work with Commerce people.”33 Phoebe was a self-confident woman in a time when women were supposed to be quiet and self-deprecating. She was sure of her commitment and her skill, and proceeded accordingly. Apparently, her approach did not endear her to some important colleagues.
In the midst of all this, Phoebe flew to Miami to see her good friend, Amelia Earhart, off on her flight around the world. As a member of the NAA National Contest Board tasked to check and approve flight plans for record flights, Phoebe was concerned about the difficulties of the passage over the vast distances of the Pacific, where vital wind and weather information was inconsistent or unavailable. Still, Amelia was confident that all contingencies had been accounted for. Phoebe later recounted that she “agonized and studied that plan over and over again after [Amelia’s] disappearance to find an answer.” She feared that Amelia had encountered a tailwind that caused her to over-fly Howland Island (where she planned to refuel) during the night instead of at dawn. Amelia and her navigator, Fred Noonan, had planned to take advantage of the rising sun to make the tiny speck of an island (two miles long, half a mile wide, four feet elevation at high tide) easier to spot. After missing the island, Phoebe believed, Amelia had little fuel and no hope of reaching a safe landing.34
The Tennessee Aviation Act, proposed by Omlie and McDonald, passed 21 May 1937. The legislation replaced the Aeronautics Commission with a more centralized and powerful Tennessee Bureau of Aeronautics within the Department of Highways and Public Works.35 McDonald was named director of aeronautics by the governor. By the time the Education section of the bill became operational the following March, Tennessee’s Civilian Pilot Training Program (TCPTP) had established ground schools in Memphis, Nashville, Chattanooga, Knoxville, and the Tri-Cities, each of them designed to accommodate one hundred students per session. Open to any Tennessee citizen over the age of sixteen, the schools taught navigation, meteorology, aerodynamics, aircraft engines, and civil air regulations. Because there were no textbooks available for these subjects, Phoebe took on the task of developing the curriculum. She taught her own section of the ground school at Bellevue Junior High School in Memphis in October 1938.36 Based on a merit system, the top fifteen students in each school (twelve boys and three girls) were granted scholarships for private pilot training.37 By the end of the first year, the state had graduated 2,780 ground school students and 75 fliers.38
The first program of its kind, the TCPTP got a great deal of national attention. Phoebe’s school was visited by representatives from the army and navy and members of the Bureau of Air Commerce. That December, President Roosevelt unveiled his own program to provide a boost to civil aviation by funding pilot training for college students. Though it was ostensibly aimed at stimulating the flagging private aviation industry, many recognized the program’s potential for national defense. Critics charged that the president’s real purpose was to build up aviation for war. Indeed, he did little to dampen that criticism, telling the National Aviation Forum that “hardly another civil activity of our people bears such a direct and intimate relation to the national security as does civil aviation. It supplies a reservoir of inestimable value to our military and naval forces in the form of men and machines, while at the same time it keeps an industry so geared that it can be instantly diverted to the production of fighting planes in the event of national emergency.”39
The federal Civil Aeronautics Act of 1938 transferred responsibility for nonmilitary aviation from the Department of Commerce to a new independent agency, the Civil Aeronautics Authority. Under that agency’s purview was the new Civilian Pilot Training Program, codified in the Civilian Pilot Training Act of 1939. Training began with the government paying for a 72-hour ground school course followed by 35–50 hours of flight instruction at facilities located near thirteen participating colleges and universities; 330 students between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five were selected for the first class.40
Modeled after the TCPTP, the program had three major differences from the one in Tennessee: ground school courses were offered in colleges rather than public schools, the minimum age of participants was increased from sixteen to eighteen, and the ratio of women to men fell from 20 percent to 10 percent.41 By the end of the first year, 9,350 men and women were being trained at 435 colleges and universities. Overall, approximately 2,500 women were CPTP trained before America entered the war.42
After Pearl Harbor, the CPTP became the War Training Service (WTS).43 From 1942 until the program ended in the summer of 1944, students continued to take college courses and private flight training, but all students were now required to sign agreements to enlist in the armed forces upon graduation. Once this took effect, women
were automatically excluded. A number of women protested this development and Eleanor Roosevelt asked Robert H. Hinckley, assistant secretary of commerce and director of the Civilian Pilot Training Program, for an explanation. He noted the necessity to concentrate resources on training men for combat, adding “If, or when, the time comes when trained girls are needed in non-combat work to release men for active duty, that will be a different situation.”44
In 1938, as she taught her ground school in Memphis, Phoebe was still struggling to try to secure a job in Washington. She tried again with a letter to Eleanor Roosevelt asking to be appointed as the third member of the Air Safety Board.45 The first lady passed the request on to her husband, who responded: “She should have some job in the bureau tho [sic] I fear not this one.” The president followed up with Edward J. Noble, chairman of the Civil Aeronautics Authority. Noble suggested he had found a possible position for her as assistant chief of the Flight Information Section. The description of the job made it clear that this would be strictly paper shuffling: preparing periodical bulletins, collecting and disseminating data on airport and navigational facilities, compiling weekly notices, and the like. Further, the position paid only about $3,000, a considerable cut from the $5,600 salary she earned in 1935. After the president forwarded this suggestion to Dewson, she dropped a note to the first lady saying that she had decided not to share this letter with Phoebe.
It might make her feel worse than the fact that others were preferred ahead of her for the Board. I really am enthusiastic about her for the Board. She is keenly interested because of her husband’s death in an air plane crash (when he was not piloting), because she has grown up in the industry, and because by nature she is sensible, practical and undramatic. From my experience a good woman does any group of men executives good. But I am not pressing you.
The first lady attached a note to her husband to Dewson’s message reading simply “What about this? ER.” The president passed it to Secretary Early with the message, “Will you take this up with the Chairman of the Air Safety Board and see if they can use Phoebe Omlie anywhere? FDR.” A reply from the Civil Aeronautics Administration (CAA) administrator Clinton Hester asked James Rowe to look into the situation, asserting, “We have held up filling this position for several weeks in order that Mrs. Omlie might be considered should she be interested and should the President see fit to issue an executive order [in order to bypass a civil service exam] which would permit the appointment.” When Rowe responded, he addressed his remarks to Secretary Early. The Air Safety Board cannot use her, he wrote, because “1. she has no civil service status and 2. their work is mostly field work at accident crashes and is too tough for a woman.” He reiterated that the lower-paying position at Flight Information was still available. Otherwise there was no position for her “unless the president directs the authority to create a position.” FDR forwarded this reply to his wife along with a memo responding to that final point. “Sorry but I cannot possibly make an exception. I have had many similar cases in the past.”46