Otto Lilienthal was quite a guy. I would have liked Otto. The great German scientist and engineer was born in 1848. Experimenting with boilers, sirens, contraptions of all nature, his curiosity lured him into developing the world's most successful glider in 1891. In five years, Lilienthal made more than 2,000 flights.

History records many flights before this time, some pure myth, some disputable. The balloon was well established when Lilienthal built his wings.

It is so written in the Chinese history books that one Emperor Shun built a flying chariot in the year 2258 B.C. Wise man, he destroyed it before it could be seen by his people. Adventuresome Emperor Shun also made the first parachute jump, using an umbrella of bamboo and parchment.

Of course, Greek mythology spins the yarn of Daedalus, who in 1100 B.C. built wings for himself and his son Icarus. Doing something neither new nor surprising, the young Icarus disobeyed his father's instructions and "flew too close to the sun, melting the wax from his wing."

Well, youngsters have been getting singed ever since, disobeying instructions, but few have had wings to melt.

Roger Bacon, the scientific friar of 1214 to 1292 A. D., wrote in a very learned manner of "an engine with wings." Possibly one of the most authentically documented flying devices of early history was the man-carrying balloon built in the year 1279 A.D. by the astronomer of the court of Kublai Khan. This event is recorded in Chinese history books and Marco Polo wrote that he later saw the machine.

As these dates go Leonardo DaVinci was practically a modern when he published a book in 1490 A.D. He had designs for an airplane, a helicopter and a parachute. Old DaVinci was a smart codger. He planned the plane and also a way down.

Politics being what it was even in those days, hot air was plentiful and the 1700's and 1800's are full of actual flights by balloon and crude dirigible.

But it remained for this German engineer with the keen and curious mind to develop a successful airfoil. Others were experimenting with gliders and wings at the same time, but Otto Lilienthal backed his first experiment with 13 years of research. This careful man of science kept painstaking records of his flights and documented his changing airfoil with written designs that could be studied.

He not only enjoyed the zest of flying cleanly through the air, but his searching mind was always on the alert for a better wing. Lilienthal, very early in his experiments, knew that stability was to be desired, along with a fool-proof control.

His gliding machine was originally controlled by balancing the pilot's weight beneath it. He became very adept at handling the glider, finally reaching the stage when he thought an engine could be added!

Lilienthal always worked with his brother Gustave. The two were inseparable in their experiments. Once when Gustave was away on a long trip, Otto did not work on the glider for a period of ten years.

The pair of aeronauts finally prepared a flying machine, with an engine, which they were certain would fly. They had experimented with models, were sure they had something.

The night before they were to test the motor-driven flying machine, Otto Lilienthal wanted to make one more flight in the glider. His brother, Gustave, had left the windy hillside when Otto arose on his last flight. It is presumed he was trying some new maneuver in the glider that he wanted to try later in the power machine. In any event, his ground helper, Hugo Eilitz, saw Lilienthal suddenly dive to the earth. He died in a matter of minutes. The date was August 9, 1896.

Brother Gustave never flew the Lilienthal power machine. He had no further taste for it. Seven years later, using the results of the Lilienthal experiments, the Wright brothers flew a power airplane at Kittyhawk on December 17, 1903.

The Lilienthal medal, now in the collection of Dr. F. M. Feldhaus in Berlin, carries this appropriate sentiment: "Non omnis mortiar" --I shall never wholly die!"

Without Wings
Startled motorist met an airplane, sans wings; roaring steadily down road 15 one day last week. It was only auto-airman Frank Hartsock moving his Ercoupe from Smith Field to his downtown garage for the winter. He was doing it the easy way. Frank had lots of work he wanted to do on the ship and wanted to do it in the warm. Off came the wings and the Ercoupe then made a good-roadable vehicle.

Frank Seamans, Mentone and Bourbon manufacturer, back from England and New York, flying his Stinson once again.

And Stanley "Wacky" Arnolt, the Argonne road flying industrialist, has a new Beech Bonanza. The Bonanza is a sleek, low-winged cabin monoplane with 172-mile per hour cruising speed. Its luxurious cabin provides ample room for four adults and their luggage, has a non-stop range of 750 miles. Stan's new plane will have all the latest safety devices and navigational aids. Will be decidedly a practical means of travel for a busy executive.

One of the most recent devices which will be found as standard equipment on more and more aircraft, is the stall-warning device. It followed it will eliminate entirely the stall-spin type of crash which accounted for the greatest majority of private accidents last year. It should mean as much additional safety as hydraulic brakes gave automobiles, when the old mechanical brake became obsolete. In the future, instead of depending upon "feel" for warning of an impending stall, the pilot will be cautioned by a brightly flashing red light and a blaring Klaxon.

Warsaw Daily Times, Mon. Nov. 17, 1947