The First Airplane Fatality: February ‘01 American History Feature

 | American History  | 0 comments  |  Print This Post  |  Email This Post

When a plane piloted by Orville Wright in 1908 crashed during a test flight, the result proved disastrous, especially for Wright’s passenger, Lieutenant Thomas E. Selfridge.

As Orville Wright made a final visual inspection of the aircraft, Lieutenant Thomas Selfridge stood nearby, failing to suppress a grin. The young officer’s excitement irritated Wright. He didn’t trust the man and resented having him along–but the army had insisted. And since Orville and his brother Wilbur wanted to sell airplanes to the army, he had no choice.

The date was September 17, 1908. A few months earlier Selfridge had become the first soldier to pilot a heavier-than-air machine. He had flown a craft named the White Wing for nearly 100 yards at a height of 10 feet. A group called the Aerial Experiment Association (AEA), headed by Dr. Alexander Graham Bell, had built the machine. The Wright brothers distrusted the AEA and thought the rival group had violated Wright patents. Selfridge was the association’s secretary, so Orville naturally bristled at the army’s request that he take the officer along as an observer on a test flight.

Tests had been postponed for three days because of high winds. Finally the air settled enough for the flight to proceed, and a crowd of 2,000 gathered to watch the spectacle on the grounds of Fort Myer, Virginia, adjacent to Arlington National Cemetery and across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. The plane stood poised on its starting track. "You might as well get in," Wright said to Selfridge. "We’ll start in a couple of minutes." The 26-year-old lieutenant smiled and jumped into his seat, looking like an eager schoolboy.

Wright then climbed aboard. Two assistants turned the twin propellers to start the engine as Orville adjusted his goggles. At a signal from Wright, soldiers dropped a rope to release a heavy weight from a tall tower behind the airplane. The weight pulled a catapult wire that shot the plane down a launching rail and into the air. The crowd cheered, then watched with bated breath as the craft struggled into a slow climb. With the 175-pound Selfridge aboard, the plane carried more weight than it ever had before. Wright eased the flyer upward and finally leveled off at 100 feet before steering the craft into its first graceful turn at the far end of the parade ground.

One observer later remarked, "Wright could be seen, hands on lever, looking straight ahead, and Lieutenant Selfridge to his right, arms folded and as cool as the daring aviator beside him." Selfridge waved to the upturned faces as the plane soared above the crowd at 40 miles per hour. Everything seemed to be proceeding perfectly.

The two fliers had completed three circuits and were airborne but four minutes when Wright heard an unfamiliar tapping sound. Concerned, he shut off the engine and shouted to his passenger that he intended to land. As Wright began the final run a loud crack pierced the air. Below, the crowd gasped as a piece of a propeller fluttered to the ground. The plane immediately dipped sharply to the left. Wright pulled hard on the lever controlling the front rudder. The plane appeared to briefly recover, climbing about 10 feet. Now at an altitude of 75 feet, Wright struggled to keep control. Suddenly, the craft faltered. "Oh! Oh!" Selfridge cried.

Standing near the cemetery wall below, Arlington’s superintendent watched the plane careen into a steep nosedive. "It came down like a bird shot dead in full flight, doing almost a complete somersault and throwing up a dense cloud of dust," he later reported.

The spectators stood momentarily stunned. Then they surged across the field to the plane. The post commander sensed that the situation could get out of hand and ordered a cavalry guard forward to stem the tide. "If they don’t stand back," he yelled, "ride them down!" The first rescuers to arrive at the crumpled plane began to clear the debris of wood and canvas. Both fliers lay bloodied across the wire braces in front of their seats. Wright was moaning in pain, his right arm extended under Selfridge as if to hold him up. "Oh, my arm," he cried. Selfridge was unconscious and had a deep gash across his forehead. "Call for an ambulance," someone shouted. "Hurry!"

Help HistoryNet by bookmarking to

You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.