Before Amelia by Eileen F. Lebow Read Free Book Online Page A

the near miss for the pilot and her passenger—the gossip papers seized on the fact that Hélène was not wearing a corset when she crashed. She explained that a corset is confining, and she needed freedom of movement when flying. Among the old biddies all the talk was of “the scandal,” another shocking display by the day’s young women. Hélène was not making a feminist statement; her concern was comfort.
    In September an enthusiastic American public gathered at Nassau Boulevard at Mineola, Long Island, and cheered the French visitor in her first visit to America. She planned to compete against Harriet Quimby, the first American woman to receive a pilot’s license, in a cross–country flight but lost by default because her machine was not ready. On Sunday, September 24 a record crowd surged through the gates at Nassau Boulevard to watch the assembled aviators compete, probably because of the dispute about Sunday flying. Cash prizes were forbidden on order of Sheriff Charles Mott in response to pressure from the Episcopal bishop of Long Island, but the aviators were spirited in their performances, and the press hinted that they expected to receive their awards in an indirect way.
    The most important event of the day for the women in the audience was the contest for the Rodman Wanamaker Trophy, offered for the highest altitude flown by a woman. Matilde Moisant, the second American licensed pilot, dressed in a gray sweater and a leather helmet, was the uncontested winner of the trophy, flying a Blériot–type monoplane built by the Moisant Company. Rising in wide circles, she reached a height of twelve hundred feet and remained there for half an hour before coming down. Harriet Quimby and Hélène Dutrieu were grounded, waiting for their machines to be readied.
    Hélène used the afternoon to familiarize herself with the field and the countryside nearby. The press noted that she was dressed in a light–brown divided skirt, especially adapted for flying while seated on the lower wing of a biplane facing into the wind. The petite pilot was pleased with the flying field, the best she had seen, commenting for the
New York Herald
that it was “like a billiard table, so smooth, so fine.”
    The following day, the French visitor again failed to fly. Her Farman was rolled out, but reports in the press indicated she was unhappy because the two thousand–dollar guarantee she had received from the meet organizers precluded winning prizes. Hélène thought that was expense money for travel. The management announced all women’s events were postponed until the next day, because of the weather. Finally, dressed in a “chic brown khaki costume”—another newsman thought her suit was a “drab brown” that couldn’t compare with Harriet Quimby’s plumcolored satin—the Farman ready, Hélène broke the U.S. duration record for women, thrilling the crowds with a thirty–seven–minute, twenty-two–second flight in a steady wind. According to the
New York American,
it was the most popular event of the day. Spectators had a good look at the pilot, seated on what looked like two skids jutting out from the machine, as she circled regularly, working her machine.

    After a three–day delay, Dutrieu was finally ready to fly her Farman at the Nassau meet on Long Island, September 1911.
CRADLE OF AVIATION MUSEUM, GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK
    She was interviewed by the press, who were fascinated by her jewelry. Ashby Deering of the
Morning Telegraph
wrote that Dutrieu was vastly superior to “the feminine locust native to this continent,” a reference to Harriet Quimby and Matilde Moisant. Hélène stated that she was not a feminist, but she believed women should not remain inferior because of their sex. Admitting that she found men “all very interesting” as aviators, and that they had steadier nerves and a firmer grip,