A Wright Type B airplane will participate in the World famous Farnborough (England) International Airshow in July 2008. The airplane is a civilian version of the authentic replica of the Model B located at the Franklin Institute in Pennsylvania.

The flights at the Airshow will help commemorate the 100^th anniversary of the first flight in the United Kingdom.

The replica was built by a group of volunteers in Dayton, Ohio. A spokesman said that this replica has many refinements and safety improvements that do not detract from its authenticity, but enhance its beauty and flying safety. The plane essentially operates under the same horsepower, weight and controls used by the Wright brothers.

In 1911, the Wrights received a contract from the U.S. Signal Corps for two Type B Aircraft. They built a factory on the West-side of Dayton to build these and other airplanes. Some twenty people were involved in construction of the Army’s Model B.

If you were interested in the "Art of Aviation" and becoming a "birdman" (pilot), the usual procedure was to meet with Orville in his office at the factory. Although, the first meeting might take place at their Huffman Prairie Flying Field, reachable by the interurban train from Dayton to the flying field at the Simms Station stop. Orville spent a lot of time at the flying field because he enjoyed being involved in the flying activities more than working in the office.

Lessons at the Wright School cost $60 per hour of direct training provided in 15-minute intervals. There was a potential large cost saving at the Wright School because there was no charge for breakage of the machine. Most other flying schools required the student to pay for breakage.

New students were considered to be "ground huggers" by the birdman and their associates. Orville would counsel nervous students, "Don’t be nervous, it’s just like learning to ride a bicycle."

The student would then be assigned to his instructor and to the Wrights’ chief mechanician, Charley Taylor. Both men were professional and had a low tolerance for foolishness.

Before taking to the air the student would be tutored in the Wright techniques for construction and maintenance of airplanes and in the fundamental principles of flight. This included the means for lifting and dropping the machine by angling the elevator surfaces and the means for turning by coordinating movements of the rudder surfaces with wing warping.

In one room of the factory the Wrights’ had built a flight simulator, named the "kiwi bird." The simulator was a Type B without an engine and tail assembly. It was cradled to allow lateral movement only.

An electric motor driving a cam continuously changed the angle of the planes about the longitudinal axis. As the student pilot manipulated the combination warp and rudder lever properly, the planes were returned to a level attitude.

Usually it required the student to spend several hours over three or four days seated on the kiwi bird, practicing until correction of lateral imbalance became instinctive.

Once this phase is completed the student pilot journeyed to the Simms Station Field for flight training. The field was a converted cow pasture, bare except for a thorn tree at one end and a large wooden shed at the other. The field was over 300-feet long, which was long enough to accommodate even inept students.

The students first task was to help pull the 1,250 pound Model B from the shed. The machine rode on wheels and skids that replaced the steel track that was used on earlier models.

The model B had its control surfaces at the rear of the machine unlike previous Wright models. A 35-hp water-cooled engine powered eight-foot propellers to turn at about 45-rpm.

The first procedure, which the student was taught to perform every time before flight, was the ground check. It included a walk around that included inspecting its fitness, checking patches of fabric and testing the webwork of wires.

If everything checked out to be ok, the instructor and student would climb into two side by side wicker seats lined with corduroy, perched on the forward edge of the lower plane.

Between the two seats stood the wing-warping lever with a hinged upper section for independent rudder control. By rotating the top portion of the lever the pilot could add or subtract rudder action by a somewhat difficult wrist-twisting movement.

To make the task easier, a right-handed pilot was trained in the left seat so that his "better" hand could be used.

There was another lever at the outside of each seat to use to change altitude.

A spring-loaded foot treadle that was reachable from either seat adjusted speed. Pressing on the foot treadle advanced or retarded the ignition spark, providing a range of engine power.

To start the engine, one man primed the intake manifold from an oil can filled with gasoline. The engine was then started with the compression released; otherwise, you would need two heavyweight wrestlers to turn the propellers.

Two other men swung the propellers; the engine fired in a blast of smoke as they ran to grasp the wing tips. The pilot than turned the compression-release lug and switched on the fuel-tank value. The spark-retard was not released until the engine was running smoothly.

At that point the pilot would wave the assistants to let loose of the machine. The pilot kicked at the treadle and pushed the elevator-control lever. The machine bounced along the ground as the machine gained speed. The tail assembly raised and its skids left the ground as the "B" wobbled into the air.

It was customary at the Wright school for the novice student to only act as an observer on his first flight. After landing, the aviators, mechanicians, and workman on the ground would go through a ritual of carefully examining the machine to see if the student passenger "had squeezed the paint off."

A typical flight-training schedule would consist of a 15-minute airborne period per day over several days. The first couple of days the student would learn to perform left and right turns and then figure eights. The task of the student was to maintain level flight, as well as perform aerodynamic turns without slipping and skidding. It was like balancing on a knife-edge. One mishap, one lapse of concentration, could result in a plunge into oblivion.

By the third, flight the student was participating in takeoff and landing maneuvers. One helpful bit of advice given to the student on taking off and landing was to "look at your shadow. When it leaves you, you’re in the air; when it reappears again, you’re down." Landing too hard was hazardous to skids and wheels.

By the sixth day, the student had operated the machine under his own skills through a complete cycle.

Generally student flight was restricted to afternoons and then only in still air. Orville established this rule. He said, "Otherwise we can’t tell whether the wind or the student is knocking the machine about."

Orville would often observe the training dressed in his derby and dark business suit. He would admonish his students against foolhardy thoughts or acts. He emphasized the maxims of safety. Caution and concentration were bywords expressed to students for survival.

Orville would often tell of the horse-drawn carriage waiting on the road that bounded the pasture, its driver, a somber gentleman with tall black hat, following with keen interest each day’s flights. That man, Orville said ominously, was the local undertaker.

Once the instructor and teacher were satisfied that the student was ready to solo, Orville as well those other present would gather to watch the solo flight. After a successful flight, the observers would cheer while the pilot was proclaimed a master of airplanes --- a "birdman."

After qualifying as an aviator, the Type B could be purchased for $5,000.

An extra benefit of being a student at the Wright School was that Orville would regularly invite most of his students to his Hawthorne Street home for dinner with his father, Bishop Milton Wright, his sister, Katharine, and his brother Lorin.

Reference: Fight of the VIN FIZ by E. P. Stein

The Wright brothers were extraordinary inventors but they were not skilled in marketing their product. They were not able to interest anyone in purchasing their Flyer for five years after Wilbur designated it as a practical airplane.

Wilbur was convinced that the competition would not be able to develop a practical airplane for at least five years. So when no one was interested in their Flyer in 1905, their obsession with secrecy caused them not to display the craft until they had a contract with a prospective buyer.

Their overwhelming concern was that someone would steal their design secrets and claim prior rights as the inventor of manned, controlled, powered flight.

Wilbur wrote, "We would have to expose our machine more or less, and that might interfere with sale of our secrets."

At last, In 1908 the Wrights received two contracts on two continents. The U.S. Army, concerned about the progress of the Europeans, accepted the Wrights’ bid to build one airplane, the Model A, at the price of $25,000 if the airplane successfully passed prescribed qualification tests.

In France a contract was signed, not with the French Government, but with a private syndicate headed by French capitalists. The syndicate would purchase the rights to the Wrights’ French patents and the right to manufacture, sell, and license Wright airplanes in France. After a series of demonstration flights, the Wrights would receive 500,000 francs upon delivery of the first machine, $20,000 a piece for each of four additional planes, and shares in the company.

With contracts in hand, the Wrights intended to fly only for their buyers. They returned to Kitty Hawk for a month to prepare their Flyer for the demonstration flights Wilbur would fly in France and to refresh their flying skills. After that Wilbur took the airplane to France and Orville returned to Dayton to prepare another plane for the Army trials at Ft. Myer.

The Wrights had gotten back in business in the nick of time. Wilbur and Orville flew before enthusiastic crowds in France and America respectively. Their success spurred a handful of North American aircraft builders to try their hand at flying.

One such group was the Aerial Experiment Association (AEA), formed by Alexander Graham Bell. One of its members was Glenn Curtiss who the Wrights would fight with over patent rights for years.

In July 1908, Curtiss flew his fast "June Bug" biplane more than one kilometer to win the $2,500 Scientific American Trophy and national acclaim. Wilber had flown his Flyer farther in 1905, but he had refused to compete with a man he believed was trying steal his ideas. Curtiss airplanes would, in a few years, surpass the Wright models.

The Wrights were awarded a patent covering three-axis control of any airplane in 1906 and warned that anyone who copied it for profit making purposes would be sued unless they paid the Wrights royalties.

Curtiss developed a new design for performing the effect of wing-warping without changing the shape of the entire wing. He called it ailerons, which were separate, movable surfaces at the back of each wing, similar to what is now used on modern airplanes.

Curtiss was confident that his new design would get around the Wrights’ patent. The Wrights maintained that any form of three-dimensional control system would fall under their patent and threatened to sue.

Curtiss ignored them. He was not too concerned about the Wrights because Bell had assured members of the AEA that ailerons used on the June bug would circumvent the Wrights’ patent.

In August 1909 Curtiss won the Bennett Trophy, in a flying meet held at Rheims, France, by setting a speed record of 47-mph. Some 23 different airplanes participated in the meet. He also sold the first consumer airplane for just $5,000.

The Wrights declined to participate in these flying competitions because they said they didn’t compete against mere imitators.

They did turn to the courts with their threatened patent infringement lawsuit. Judge R. Hazel of the Federal Court in Buffalo was assigned the case. Until such time as Hazel issued a restraining order to Herring-Curtiss Co, the company that Curtiss was now associated with, was free to continue flying.

Initially, the court actions went smoothly for the Wrights. On January 3, 1910, Judge Hazel granted an injunction against Herring-Curtiss that the Wrights had sought. Curtiss appealed, but the company, already in poor financial shape, was forced into bankruptcy.

For the first six months of 1910 the Wrights enjoyed an effective monopoly in the airplane business in America. It didn’t last long.

The Wrights offered to drop their suit if Curtiss would agree to take out a license and

settle for the past infringement.

Curtiss decided he was better off with a strategy of delaying tactics.

Curtiss went in to bankruptcy but came out of it in better shape than before. He got rid of Herring and purchased the assets of the company for a song, forming the Curtiss Aeroplane and Motor Co.

Not only that, his appeal of the injunction was granted in June so he was back in business producing airplanes.

The litigation stretched out for eight years of trials and appeals. The effect was to slowly weaken the Wrights’ company, now known as the American Wright Co., formed in November 1909.

As the courtroom battles dragged on, it was Wilbur that became the key expert witness. He testified tirelessly about aeronautical design issues, explaining them in a clearly understood manner. His skill on the witness stand meant that his time at the company was limited.

Orville was busy with production and managing the company in Wilbur’s absence. Orville didn’t like managing and did as little of it as possible. In the meantime no one was doing much innovating.

Wilbur commented, "We have been compelled to spend our time on business matters … during the past five years. When we think what we might have accomplished if we had been able to devote this time to experiments, we feel very sad, but it is always easier to deal with things than with men, and no one can direct his life entirely as he would choose."

By the spring of 1914 the Curtiss Aeroplane Co. had surpassed the Wrights and grown into the largest aircraft manufacturing company in America.

In April 1912 Wilbur became very ill while in Boston. He attributed his illness to some fish he had eaten at a Boston hotel. Shortly after his return to Dayton he developed a fever that persisted for several days and his overall condition worsened. It turned out his illness was typhoid fever and he was gone within a month on May 30 at the age of 45.

Twenty-five thousand mourners filed past his coffin before the simple service began in the First Presbyterian Church in Dayton on June 1. There was no music in the 20-minute service. The pastor read scriptural messages and an overview of Wilbur’s career written by his older brother Reuchlin.

Interment was in a private burial at Woodland Cemetery in Dayton. Church bells tolled at 3:30 in the afternoon while all activity in the city came to a halt for ninety minutes.

Bishop Wright eloquently paid tribute to his son: "A short life, full of consequences. An unfailing intellect, imperturbable temper, great self reliance and a great modesty, seeing the right clearly, pursuing it steadfastly, he live and died."

After the death of Wilbur, Orville found himself at the helm of a floundering company with the patent wars still in progress. He didn’t want the leadership responsibility and he refused to actively improve the Wright airplanes because it would require adopting features that were used by Curtiss, the very man he accused of stealing.

He did invent a pendulum-driven automatic pilot for which he won the prestigious Collier trophy. It was soon eclipsed by Lawrence Sperry’s gyroscope-driven system.

Then suddenly there was good news in 1914. The Circuit of Appeals upheld the Wrights’ patent suit against Curtiss. This decision gave Orville a monopoly in which any company building and selling airplanes would have to pay the Wright Company 20% of its receipts. Orville could have closed down Curtiss. But he chose not to.

Many people are puzzled as to why he didn’t. The reason he didn’t is because the patent fight was over and now at last the Wright brothers’ claim to the invention of the airplane was recognized and protected. Orville felt vindicated.

With that accomplished he decided to sell the Wright Company. Orville recognized his limitations as a manager. He had no desire to oversee a team of research-and-development engineers such as Curtiss had developed.

On October 15, 1915 Orville sold the company, including the patents, to a group of eastern investors for $150 million. The new Wright Co. was still dogged by Curtiss as he continued to drag out negotiations with repeated proposals for settlement that were never finalized.

World War I brought an end to the fiasco. The U.S. stepped in and commanded a truce to resolve the dispute when America entered the war in 1917. A consortium of aviation companies banded together and brokered an agreement by which all members could pay a fee to license the patented technology. In return, Curtiss and the Wright-Martin Co., which in the interim had merged with the old Wright Co., each received $2 million in a one-time settlement and agreed to lay the patent issue to rest.

Orville retired and enjoyed life receiving the honors of being the co-inventor of the airplane, tinkering in his laboratory in downtown Dayton and doing some consulting work.

Reference: Invention & Technology, Fall 2003.

Just as Wilbur had wowed the French with his flying exploits, Orville did the same thing in Germany. During the summer and fall of 1909, Orville made 19 flights, set world records for altitude and duration of flight, including flight with a passenger, in front of crowds of 200,000 people.

In May of 1909 the Flugmachine Wright Gesellshaft was founded to manufacture Wright Flyers in Germany.

Initially Germany wasn’t interested in inviting the Wrights to demonstrate their airplane. Wilbur thought it was because officials were afraid of the possible consequences of a blunder. It seemed that every official near the emperor was in constant fear of losing his standing.

Another reason was that the Germans were preoccupied with Count Ferdinand Zeppelin and his dirigibles.

There were some German army officers that began to think that flying machines might prove more effective for war than dirigibles. Captain Richard von Kehler was one of these officers. He proposed the formation of a company to manufacture Wright Flyers when the Wrights were in Rome in April. The result was the formation of the "Flugmachine" Wright Company in Germany on May 13, 1909.

Captain Alfred Hildebrandt was another one of the officers who were supporting airplanes. He had witnessed Wilbur fly at Pau and was greatly impressed. He wanted to get Wilbur to Germany to demonstrate what his machine could do.

Hildebrandt, on behalf of the German newspaper, Lokal-Anzeiger, offered the Wrights a substantial fee to fly in Germany. The Wrights accepted. The family decided that Orville would fly in Germany because Wilbur had flown in France. Katharine would accompany Orville on the trip.

Orville and Katharine left Dayton for Europe on August 8, 1909. Katharine took a leave of absence from Steele High School where she was a teacher. It turned out that she never returned to teaching.

They sailed from New York on August 10 aboard the Kronprinzessin Cecilie and arrived in London on August 16 and in Berlin on August 19.

While in Britain, Orville and Katharine, accompanied by Charles S. Rolls, founder of the British Rolls-Royce automobile company, visited Sheppey Island to inspect Wright airplanes under construction under license by the Short Brothers. Earlier in the year a contract had been signed with the Short Brothers to construct a dozen Wright Flyers.

In Berlin the emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm, ordered Count Zeppelin to fly his newest dirigible to Berlin and on Sunday, August 29, the big silver dirigible sailed over the city while all the church bells in the city provided a loud greeting. A crowd of some 100,000 people was at Tegel parade ground to see the ship land.

Also there were Orville and Katharine on the viewing platform with the royal family. Count Zeppelin dipped the nose of the ship in a salute to the emperor. After landing and paying respects to the emperor, Count Zeppelin was introduced to Orville and Katharine. That night, the Orville and his sister dined with the emperor in his castle.

The following week on August 30, Orville showed what an airplane could do that a dirigible could not. He started his program by making preliminary flights of 52 minutes before a gathering of military officials at Tempelhof parade ground near Berlin.

On September 4, Orville made his first public exhibition flights under the sponsorship of Lokal-Anzeiger. He flew for 19 minutes, 2 seconds for a distance of about 20 kilometers. The crowd’s cheers were like those Wilbur received in France.

During the week of September 6-11 Orville flew before crowds as large as 200,000. Crown Prince Wilhelm, Crown Princess Ceclie were among the spectators.

Mrs. Alfred Hildebrandt was a passenger on one of the flights. She flew for 8 minutes, 38 seconds and became the first woman to fly as a passenger of an airplane in Germany.

On September 15, Orville took a few days off and traveled to Frankfurt for a ride in Count Zeppelin’s new dirigible, Zeppelin LZ 6 on a 50-mile trip from Frankfort to Mannheim. Travelling with him were Captain Hildebrandt and three members of the royal family. Hildebrandt acted as an interpreter. Katharine accompanied the group in the dirigible, Parseval

The press of the crowd was so great on arrival in Mannheim that Orville got separated from the rest of the group. He couldn’t remember the name of the hotel where they were to have lunch and without Hildebrandt he couldn’t ask anyone for directions. Fortunately, a member of the reception committee found him and brought him to the hotel.

On September 17, Orville set a new flying record for a flight that lasted 54-minutes, 34-seconds and at a height of 565 feet.

The next day he set another record. According to a Berlin newspaper on September 18: "Orville Wright made a new record at the Tempelof field for sustained aeroplane flight with a passenger. He remained in the air for one hour and 35 minutes carrying Capt. Englehardt. He broke his own record, made July 27, when he stayed up with a passenger for one hour and 12 minutes".

Captain Paul Englehard was a retired German naval officer who was being trained to be a pilot by Orville. He completed three solo flights on October 13 and earned pilot’s license No. 3 in Germany.

The Empress of Germany, along with Prince Adalbert, Prince August Wilhelm and Princess Viktoria witnessed Orville’s achievement.

That afternoon Orville flew again. This time alone. This time a broken water pump terminated his flight after flying for 1 hour, 45 minutes.

This day’s flights completed Orville’s obligation to fly under the contract with Lokal-Anzeiger.

Orville than moved his operations to Bornstedt drill grounds at Potsdam about 17 miles south of Berlin. His flights there weren’t private but members of the royal family were in attendance most of the time.

Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm, 20, was particularly interested in flying. He convinced Orville to take him up. On October 2, the Crown Prince donned an overcoat to protect himself from oil splatters from the engine and was given a fifteen-minute flight. It was the first member of a royal family to ride in an airplane.

He kept urging Orville to fly higher. Orville kept the machine at an altitude of near 60 feet. Under different circumstances he was willing to oblige the Prince, but he was not about to take any chances that would get him in trouble with Prince’s father, the Kaiser.

The Crown Prince, nevertheless was overjoyed with the 15 minute ride and expressed his gratitude by presenting Orville with a fancy jeweled stickpin consisting of a crown set in rubies surrounding the initial "W" in diamonds. The diamond encrusted "W" stood for Wilhelm but the Prince told Orville it could just as well stand for Wright.

Later that day, Orville set an unofficial altitude record by soaring to 1,600 feet during a twenty-minute flight.

On October 15, Orville made his last appearance in Germany by topping off his stay with a spectacular flight of 25-30 minutes before Emperor Wilhelm, the Empress, Princess Viktoria Luise and General von Plessen. The Kaiser had been away on business and had not seen Orville fly as yet.

By the time the Kaiser arrived, it was getting dark. Orville took off and flew to 300-feet, circled, dove, flew out-of sight and returned for a total flight of 30 minutes. Most of the flight was flown after sunset with only the illumination being the moon and stars. Three royal cars lined up and turned on their headlights so Orville could see to land.

The Kaiser was ecstatic about the flight and bombarded Orville with questions. In appreciation, the Emperor presented a signed photograph of himself to Orville.

The next day Orville and Katharine left for Paris and London on their way home to Dayton.

One other thing that Orville did before he left Germany was to visit the home of Otto Lilienthal. Orville and Wilbur thought highly of Lilienthal and gave him credit for helping shape their ideas about designing a flying machine.

Following Wilbur’s success at Les Hunaudiere and Camp d’Auvours near Le Mans, he moved his flying activities to the elite resort town of Pau on January 14, 1909. The weather was warmer and the flying field was much better. His major task was to train three Frenchmen to fly the airplane now that he had satisfied the airplane’s performance requirements for the French syndicate who planned to build Wright airplanes in France. He was not in Pau to set any flying records although he wowed everybody who saw him fly in Pau.

He was provided a level unfenced field almost a mile square known as Pont Long located eight miles south of Pau with a fine view of the Pyrenees Mountains. The virtual absence of trees allowed Wilbur the luxury to fly large circuits of three to four miles and not stray too far from his hangar-shed.

The shed at Pont Long was much better that the two he had at Le Mans. It was large enough that he didn’t have to dissemble the Flyer’s tail frame and front rudder every time it entered or left the shed. His living quarters were much nicer and he had his meals provided by a French chef selected by the mayor. He also had a special telephone line to Pau where Orville and Katharine were staying in a fancy hotel.

Wilbur for the first time wore a good-looking black leather motorcyclist’s jacket for flying in cold weather. It was the first leather aviation jacket.

His three student pilots were balloonist Paul Tissandier, Captain Paul Lucas-Girardville and Count Charles de Lambert. Tissandier would later be the first to fly around the Eiffel Tower.

This is how the New York Herald described his first flight at Pau on February 3, 1909:

The Mayor congratulated Miss Wright gracefully on the marvelous skill of her brother, and the universal expression was one of wonder at the immense reserve of power Mr. Wright possesses. He never seemed to exert himself. It was the most marvelous performance ever seen at Pau."

New students who were being trained to fly first flew as a passenger. The student first learned to manipulate the horizontal front rudder (elevator) in straight-line flight. Then he was allowed to manipulate the warping and rudder control stick located between the two seats. Wilbur would sit with his hands on his knees ready to react to any mistakes.

Wilbur explained the operation of the lever located between the seats to a journalist:

Student pilots were designed either right-handed or left-handed pilots. The pilots trained by Wilbur (or Orville) sat on the right and learned to manipulate the wing warping rudder lever, located between the two seats, with their left hand. These were called left-handed pilots.

When a left-handed pilot trained another pilot, the student sat in the seat at the left and learned to manipulate the lever with his right hand and was therefore known as a right-handed pilot.

Orville once attempted to fly a Wright machine as a left-handed pilot, that is sitting in the seat at the right and manipulating the wing warping-rudder stick with his left hand. He said, "that was the wildest flight of my life. I never again attempted to pilot using the let-hand controls."

Wilbur missed his family and convinced Orville and Katharine to visit him in France. They joined Wilbur in Pau after first spending two days in Paris. They almost didn’t make it to Pau because they were involved in a serious train wreck thirty miles outside of Pau. The express train they were on collided with a slow local train. Two passengers were killed and many injured. Fortunately Orville and Katharine both escaped with no injuries.

Many famous people came to watch Wilbur fly at Pau. One of these was King Alfonso XIII of Spain. He was greatly interested in the Flyer and asked all kinds of questions of Wilbur. He didn’t fly, although he greatly wanted to, because his wife and senior advisors told him not to.

Katharine later heard about it and commented that King Alfonso was a "good husband" for keeping his promise to his wife that he would not fly.

That didn’t stop Katharine from flying. Just as night was beginning to fall on February 15, she flew with Wilbur for seven minutes and four seconds. That was the first flight she had ever been on. On March 17 she flew again for 12 minutes 22 seconds. This time it was in front of King Edward VII on one of the two flights that he observed. He vigorously waved his hat and cheered as they flew by the stands. He proclaimed that she was the "ideal American."

Katharine made a big impression on everyone and some of what they wrote about her was exaggerated. Such as, she helped her brothers financially and solved difficult mathematical problems for them. She exclaimed, "I did no pioneer work in connection with the invention of the airplane."

Wilbur was also subjected to false statements. He was named co-respondent in a divorce suit filed by a lieutenant in the French Army. It turned out that a newspaper reporter substituted Wilbur’s name for the real person in order to get publicity.

The day before Wilbur made his final flight at Pont-Long, Tissandier and de Lambert each made solo flights of more than 20 minutes each. These flights served to silence the skeptics who claimed that you had to have acrobatic ability to fly the Wright machine.

Wilbur made his last flight at Pont-Long on March 20 and then headed for Rome where he had accepted an offer of $10,000 from the Aeronautical Society of Rome for a Flyer and the training of a pilot to fly it.

He made sixty-four flights during his stay at Pau. Some of his flights were recorded on movie film; the first films ever made of Wilbur flying.

The airfield site at Pont Long is still used today as the airport for Pau.

Wilbur gave the four-year old Flyer he flew at Pau to Lazare Weiller and members of the French syndicate. He had a new machine shipped from Dayton that he forwarded on to his next stop in Rome.

Boyhood of the Wrights

Newspaper articles written when the Wrights were flying can often provide insights into their activities that are not available in modern literature. Here is an article about the Wrights from the Macon Daily Telegraph of May 30, 1909. The paper printed a story from American Magazine titled "Boyhood of the Wrights." The following is that story.

Take the Wright brothers. I doubt if they would ever have made a flying machine if it had not been for the sympathy and good sense of both their father and mother.

Mrs. Wright was one of those rare women who can do things with her hands. She used to make bob-sleds and playthings for the boys and of course assisted them with what they were trying to make. Every sign of mechanical talent which they showed pleased her.

Orville Wright as a little boy was always trying to work out some kind of a contrivance and his mother encouraged him. She seems to have had great belief in the latent power of Wilbur.

"That boy has powder under his heels," she used to say to her friend; a good expression, whether original with her or not, and worth reviving and passing on to other troubled mothers of geniuses.

For instance, one of the earliest activities of Orville Wright was printing. When he was only fifteen years old, he and a friend got out a little four-page paper called " The Midget."

The father, Bishop Wright as he was known in Dayton (Mr. Wright, Sr., was for many years an active bishop in the United Brethren Church), took a cordial interest in the boys’ undertaking, but when in their first issue they ran out of news and he left the third page blank, he suppressed the whole edition because it was imperfect work!

Wilbur Wright had no connection with the Midget, except an insatiable curiosity about the printing plant which the other two boys had set up.

A little later, in 1889, the Wright brothers, together with Orville’s early partner, started a three-column four page weekly which they called "The West Side News."

They were the editors, typesetters and pressman on this paper. On Saturday nights, at 10 o’clock they themselves delivered the papers to their 400 subscribers.

The press on which "The West Side News" was printed was made by the boys themselves, and it did such good work that it attracted the attention of more ambitious newspaper men, and even was examined once by a salesman of the great printing press houses.

In this newspaper undertaking the father was an interested spectator and counselor. He kept his eye on the boys, too, when a little later they were carried away by the bicycle craze, and gave up their printing business, and set up a shop for repairing and making wheels.

It must have given the good gentlemen a great deal of satisfaction to have watched these boys working out their own tools, even the larger and complicated ones like the lathes.

As a matter of fact, I find that the Wrights now prefer to make their own tools. They seem to have a faith in that which their own hands have fashioned.

This is true, I am told, of the delicate parts of their machines.

There is no doubt that they made good wheels in those early days. A man in Dayton once showed me a bicycle he bought from the Wrights which had given him six years’ service. "It was one of the last bicycles they ever made," he said. "And when they made it their heads were full of flying machines."

You would expect boys so encouraged to go in for all the fun there was to be had out of their business, and they did so. Both were good bicycle riders. Wilbur was not a raver, but he was a "terrific" road rider --- long lean, and full of endurance.

Orville was a husky amateur racer. He won an occasional prize. He was very daring when it came to "getting out of a pocket" in a hot race, and very plucky when he took a "a tumble," according to one who used to race against him.

One of the most amusing pictures of the Wright brothers which one picks up in Dayton today is the story of a huge tandem bicycle which they built and upon which they rode all over West Dayton. It was made out of two high wheels which were connected by a gas-pipe fifteen feet long. "It was a better sight to see than a circus," the proud townsman tells you.

How the Wrights Got Started

It seems to me the most natural thing in the world that they should become interested in flying. It happened in this way: Wilbur, always a great rider, and Orville, always an enthusiast, got interested in the summertime of 1896, in the experiments of Lilienthal, a German forerunner of successful aviation who died that year. They read everything they could lay their hands on.

It is possible that the memory of the flying toy which their father brought to them from New York in childhood, and the recollection of the great kites which they built and flew although boyhood, may have had a share in attracting them to the subject.

It is much more probable, however, that their eager minds were simply seizing upon a new idea, as the case has been so often before.

They took hold of the thing together. They had done everything together --- from the days of their children, when Wilbur, the older by four years used to "make up" stories and pour them out in a stream for the entertainment of Orville, each separate story ending, "And then the boiler burst."

For five years they studied the theory of flying machines at odd times, but still for fun. And still no machine of any kind. In the meantime they kept up the bicycle business, earning a fair income, and living regular, everyday, reasonable lives.

Watching the Birds and the Whirlwinds

Although the most useful information they gained was obtained from books and from practical work on the problem carried on in their shop; they also observed the birds and the winds. For hours and hours of a Sunday afternoon they would lie on their backs on a hill outside Dayton and watch the buzzards soar on rising currents of the air.

Indeed, it was their first idea that man would never do more in the air than soar in some sort of a gliding machine, just for fun, and as long as he could keep up. They also watched many other birds, both large and small, and were continually arguing about what they had seen.

A man who has often been in their shop told me that more than once he has seen them rush to the window to have a look at a passing flock of birds.

All this, together with their innumerable observations of small whirlwinds making their way through a cornfield, or across a dusty road, did not help materially toward the solution to the problem. But, according to Orville Wright himself, it was never-ending stimulation. It helped to keep their enthusiasm undimmed in the face of discouragement.

It was not long after they took up the study before every moment of their leisure was given to it. In 1900 they decided they must have an experiment station. So they decided to go down to Kill Devil Hill in North Carolina and establish an "experimentation camp."

So far they had given about the same amount of time and money to flying as other boys do to a trip "up the lakes" or "to the world’s fair;" but now the matter assumed more serious proportions. One can imagine how many a father would have discouraged these strenuous absorbing efforts given to a mere amusement, would have advised "sticking to something that paid." But I cannot help believing that Bishop Wright watched his boys’ efforts to fly with as much interest as they felt themselves, and they need his interest for often they were discouraged.

In 1901, the year after they had begun to experiment in North Carolina with a gliding machine, they returned pretty well played out.

On that trip they discovered that the tables of calculation previously made by all authorities upon whom they have depended were wrong and that, if they were to succeed, they must work out the whole theory from the bottom up.

At that time Wilbur Wright expressed his solemn conviction that man would not fly for a thousand years. But that belief did not detain him and his brother from tackling the job.

This is the point in their career where they best showed the stuff they are made of. They not only worked out a scheme for balancing and controlling the machine, but they developed propellers for the machine on information which they had discovered for themselves.

Further than this, and more important, they had to work out new tables showing the pressure of the air against various angles.

Without all this technical information, the collection of which was a task scarcely conceivable, they could never have solved the problem.

Probably their method of work saved them from failure at this stage of the undertaking. It was this. When one made a suggestion the other attacked it --- but not without reasons, of course. The outcome was that frequently a whole day’s discussion --- and they often talked at home until the women folks felt like sweeping them out with a broom --- would result in each one accepting the position of the other. Then the next day the whole thing would be gone over again, until they had got the truth and both were persuaded.

In this manner they undoubtedly avoided "going off on a tangent" and also stimulated each other’s determination. And for this reason in the family, and everybody in Dayton, is satisfied that neither brother could have mastered the thing alone.

The historic Wright brothers’ factory buildings in Dayton are in jeopardy. The buildings are the first American facility specifically designed and built for the manufacture of airplanes from 1910-1916. In these buildings, The Wrights helped to transform the airplane from a curious wonder into a serious method of transportation.

The Delphi Corp. now owns the buildings and has continuously used them for the manufacture of airplane and automotive parts. Delphi entered bankruptcy reorganization on Oct. 8, 2005. There are five Delphi plants in Dayton employing 4,200 employees.

The Delphi plant where the Wright buildings are located is the former General Motors Inland complex located on West Third Street several miles further west of the Dayton Aviation Heritage National Park site on West Third street.

Delphi desires to reject its union contracts and terminate post-retirement health-care plans and life insurance for hourly employees. The deadline to reach new labor agreements is March 30.

The Delphi complex covers 67.3 acres. The original Wright Company factory buildings occupy approximately one acre.

The first Wright factory building, building no. 1, was completed in November 1910. It was equipped with the most modern machinery available and capable of producing two airplanes a month. Building no. 2 was built a few months later raising the production capability to four airplanes a month, a capacity greater than any other airplane factory in the world in that time period.

The Model B was the first airplane built at the Wright factories and the first to be mass-produced. Many aviation advancements and improvements were introduced. The Model B was followed by the Models R, EX, C, D, E, F, CH, G, H and HS.

The two factory buildings are single-story rectangular commercial brick. They retain much of their original architectural integrity, including gabled roofs with eyebrow parapets. During the Wrights tenure, building no. 1 contained a double-door entry. There was an office located in front of building no. 1. I have been told that the office is still used.

In 1915, Orville Wright sold The Wright Co. to a group of eastern investors and accepted payment for services as a consulting engineer during the new owners first year of operation. In 1916 The Wright Co. merged with the Glenn Martin Co. to form the Wright-Martin Aircraft Co. and the factory buildings were sold. The General Motors Corporation-Inland Div. owned the buildings during much of that time.

One good thing that Delphi and the previous owners have done is to maintain the factory buildings in good condition. This has not always been the case with other historic Wright buildings. Orville’s laboratory on West Third St. was torn down to make room for a gasoline station.

The downside of the GM/Delphi ownership is that they have had insufficient appreciation of the historic significance of the Wright buildings. Visitors are not permitted. Even during the Centennial Celebration in 1903 Delphi would not allow a picture to be taken of the exterior of the buildings.

I, a former General Motors employee, experienced this myself during the Centennial celebration in 1903. The Wright buildings are located just inside the Third street entrance to the complex. I pulled up the gate and asked the guard if I could take a picture. He said no. I asked him to check with his boss. The answer from his boss was still no. I returned on Sunday when no one was there and took pictures through the closed chain link gate.

The National Park Service has conducted a thorough Assessment of the issues and alternatives involved incorporating The Wright Company factory as a unit of Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historical Park in Dayton, Ohio. As I am writing this, the draft NPS Assessment is being widely circulated for public review and comment.

Here is an excerpt: "If The Wright Company factory buildings (site) were to be added to the park, rehabilitating factory buildings 1 and 2 to their 1910-1911 exterior and interior appearance would offer a unique opportunity to discuss the techniques and practices that the Wright brothers employed for the construction of the nation’s first mass-produced airplanes in surroundings that appear much as they did during the period of significance."

The are two major obstacles confronting the National Park Service. The first is finding a willing owner to either sell or cooperate in developing the Wright brothers’ factory site as a historic park.

The second is finances. The assessment estimates that it would require $8.8 – 13.2 million in development cost if the National Park Service were to develop and manage the site. This figure includes the cost of interpretive exhibits and media, including machinery, replica aircraft, and aircraft components, estimated at $3.1 – 4.0 million.

The obstacles are great but may be overcome. There is no question that it would be a tragedy not to save this historic gem for the American people.

The National Park Service, if requested by the owner, is willing to provide technical assistance for nomination of the site as a National Historic Landmark. Maybe that is where to start.