PEORIA MAGAZINE April 2023

belittled the idea of manned flight. Most scientists of the day sniffed and recoiled at such a notion. But Chanute’s seminal 1894 book, Progress in Flying Machines , was considered the definitive source for aviation wisdom. Those on the threshold of powered flight – among them the Wright Brothers – eagerly petitioned for Chanute’s attention and counsel. So keen was the interest of both parties that Wilbur Wright’s first letter opened a veritable flood of correspondence, generating hundreds of letters over a decade. As prolific and voluminous as the Wright brothers’ letters to Chanute were, they did not retain copies of their correspondence. Chanute, however, seized every scrap. His engineering precision and obsession with detail – and perhaps his sense of a nascent, world-changing event – allowed historians to assemble a remarkably accurate record of the development of flight. These documents are part of the permanent collection in the Library of Congress. Imagine Chanute’s passion in his role as friend, mentor and confidant of the Wright brothers. His participation was vigorous, though vicarious. At age 64, he was considered too old to fly himself. Yet beginning in the summer of 1896, his assistants tested gliders of his own design. These experiments were carried out at Dune Park, near Gary, Indiana, on the southern shore of Lake Michigan.

Eschewing secrecy, they were very public, and equally successful. More than 700 glider flights yielded a treasure trove of information, unlocking vexing mysteries of the calculus of flight. The aerodynamic riddles Chanute solved were graciously shared with the larger aviation community. For example, his knowledge of bridge trussing was deftly applied to glider construction. He pioneered the strut-wire braced wing structure, which became the standard in powered biplane aircraft. Unselfishly, he sought no patents on his work. Chanute’s recommendations for an ideal place to test aircraft led to the Wrights’ selection of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, for their historic flight trials. He visited them at their Kitty Hawk camp and sent his own assistants to work with them. Chanute’s openness and sharing attitude are evident in this passage from Progress in Flying Machines : “Let us hope that the advent of a successful flying machine, now only dimly foreseen and nevertheless thought to be possible, will bring nothing but good into the world; that it shall abridge distance, make all parts of the globe accessible, bring men into closer relation with each other, advance civilization, and hasten the promised era in which there shall be nothing but peace and goodwill among all men.” Chanute became a friend and financier of several other early pioneers of flight. Among them were Louis Mouillard of France, Otto Lilienthal of Germany,

and Samuel P. Langley, secretary of the Smithsonian Institution and a tireless flight experimenter in his own right. Chanute was the selfless facilitator, the ardent catalyst who brought together disparate individuals and interests to help legitimize and orchestrate the dream of flight. Chanute died in 1910. Wilbur Wright delivered his eulogy, saying of his friend, “His labors had vast influence in bringing about the era of human flight … No one was too humble to receive a share of his time. In patience and goodness of heart he has rarely been surpassed. Few men were more universally respected and loved.” No doubt we can credit Annie Riddel James for Chanute’s Peoria connection. How he came to be interred at Springdale – along with some 78,000 other souls – is certainly a quirk of romance and geography. But to have such a visionary memorialized in our midst is a benefit of incalculable value, sometimes revealed in the most surprising ways. As I stood on the sodden Springdale turf ruminating on the meaning of it all, a passenger jet slipped through the overcast sky above.

Gary Wright is a freelance writer and retired advertising director/corporate

communications manager at RLI Insurance Company

APRIL 2023 PEORIA MAGAZINE 85