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| Sam Senturia, World War I |
Jerome "Jerry" Senturia of Peacham shared a photo of the hand-typed description his father Sam (1896-1947) wrote about his first flight, circa 1914. Jerry wrote, "My father was an airplane mechanic in World War I. He wanted to be a pilot but his mother would not give her permission."
At the left is a photo of Sam in uniform, provided by Jerry's niece. And here is Sam's great story!
FROM DIZZY HEIGHTS: My Initial Ride in an Aeroplane
by Sam Senturia
I shall endeavor to tell you of the sensations that I experienced on my first voyage among the clouds. This description is prompted by a request from Meyer Schickman who is helping to make my stay in Kelly Field less irksome.
I had set my heart on getting a ride in an aeroplane, so I inquired how to get one, and was told to obtain a “form Z” and fill it out. I mustered up enough courage to go into the Office of the Office in Charge of flying and there asked the information clerk for a “Form Z.” I was greatly pleased to hear this clerk ask another, if he had any “Undertaker Blanks.” This is what the “Form Z” is commonly called because it has everything that an undertaker would want to know and then some. I took this to a quiet place and there filled it out. Here are some of the questions asked on this form: where do you want your remains sent? What religious services do you prefer? How much money have you and where is it? Have you a will and where is it? What insurance do you carry and where are the policies? This of course, put more courage into me and I filled it out bravely. I thought sure that if I went up, this information would be quite valuable to them. Now to get a pilot to take me up. When I found the pilot that I wanted he was busy talking to a friend of mine. After I had made my wishes known to the pilot, this friend of mine who happened to be the timekeeper on that stage, took the trouble to ask the pilot to be sure and give me a “good” ride. I did not grasp the full meaning of this until I had finished the ride. I borrowed a helmet and a pair of goggles from a cadet and was instructed to get in. I did this and the crew chief took the time to see that I had my safety belt hooked, this being my initial ride, and being greatly excited there was a possibility of my forgetting to take this precaution.
After the usual Contact and Off the motor was started and we started on my first ride. On leaving the ground the feeling is that the ground is sinking under you and you are gradually rising away from it. The noise of the motor takes away most of the sensation until you get used to it. As the passenger usually rides in the front seat, I was practically on top of the motor. It took a few minutes for me to get accustomed to the noise of the motor, and then I took a look over the side. It sure is grand to be up in the air and look down on the earth, you can see for miles, and at the height we were (which I later found was 2000 feet) things are plain and easily discernable. I mentally pointed out my barracks, the place where I work, and the different places that I only [saw] from the ground before . The riding is fine, if the pilot does not feel happy and does not make the ship stand on its nose. We rode along this way and I was feeling great but Oh! what’s this, the ship is up on one wing and swinging around in a circle using the lowest wing as a pivot (I later found out that this was a spiral), when the pilot had straightened the ship out I looked back at him and smiled; this and the fact that the timekeeper had asked him to give me a “good” ride must have acted as an incentive and the first thing I knew the motor was sputtering and we were headed for the earth in the queerest manner, twisting this [way] then that (I later found that this was a tail spin) this is when a fellow gets that queer sensation that “it is all over with now,” but oh what a sigh of relief when I saw that we were again riding level. I looked back again, this time with not so much of a smile. The fact that I was still able to look back at him spurred him on and this time we nosed down and I felt the safety belt loosen so I looked UP and behold I saw the earth, this dear readers you know was a loop. As before I looked back but with no grin at all for I was having an inward battle trying to persuade what remained of my dinner to stay where it belonged, I would have won this battle by Oh! the ship tilted again and this was too much for poor little me, my hand shot up in the air as a signal that I had had enough and he must have seen that I was inspecting the inside of the ship, so he started down; at this my stomach won and out came what remained of my breakfast (the crew chief and I ought to be thankful that I did not eat any dinner that day, for if I had I would have made a little work for him and myself). We landed in a small field and the pilot told me to get out and walk around and that I would feel better. I did this and it felt good to again have my feet on Mother Earth. After about two minutes walk I told him I was ready to go back. On the return trip I rode in the rear seat and the pilot in the front seat. The pilot must have had pity on me for we rode level all the way and he even tried to cheer me by showing me some cows that had started to run when they heard the noise from our motor. I soon began to see familiar places and I knew that we would soon be back on the field. I experienced little or no sensation on landing this time for I was feeling sort of dizzy. When I got out I said to myself “Gee but it’s good to be back on the earth again.”
I missed a dinner and part of a supper on account of this ride but I think it was worth it and a few more besides. When you consider the fact that it costs the government about two dollars a minute to fly a ship and that I had about 35 minutes of flying time I think that I could miss a couple of more rations and still be ahead.
I hope that among you readers there may be some who have or will experience similar sensations.
On my next trip I shall endeavor to be more entertaining and send you a regard from St. Peter himself.
