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Charles Hamilton defies death at Jacksonville Beach

Early “aeronaut” keeps his promise to make an ascent

Less than three years after the Wright Brothers lifted off at Kitty Hawk, the natural runways provided by Florida’s hard packed sand beaches began to attract others seeking to explore the possibilities of manned flight. Flying his own invention, a bamboo-framed muslin kite which needed to be towed by car to lift off the sands, Charles Hamilton was the first known aeronaut to visit the area.

Hamilton had become famous after soaring 800 feet over the Hudson River pulled by a tugboat. He arrived in Florida in January 1906, where he made headlines after conducting several daring exhibition flights in the Daytona-Ormond Beach area.

In April, Hamilton was back in Florida with fellow aeronaut Israel Ludlow after promising to perform three exhibition flights for an automobile tournament in Jacksonville Beach. The following vivid account of Hamilton’s first flight is reprinted from the Jacksonville Florida Times Union , April 10, 1906.

CHARLES K. HAMILTON MADE A SENSATIONAL FLIGHT IN AIR

Ascended In Aeroplane, Although the Muslin Wings Were Only Pinned.
ROSE 250 FEET IN THE AIR. Then Bamboo Support Broke and the Sensational Descent Began.
PLUNGED HEAD-FOREMOST.
Big Kite Landed on One End and This Alone Saved Aeronaut from Death.

Plunging downward, head foremost, for more than 150 feet; saving himself from instant death only by sheer presence of mind and death-defying coolness, the daring little aeronaut Charles K. Hamilton yesterday, in front of the Continental Hotel, gave the most exciting exhibition of aeroplane flights that has ever been witnessed in the South, and last night he was the idol of every lover of reckless, fearless, daring. Even the aeroplane in which the little fellow made the ascent was not perfectly constructed, and the muslin covering of the wings was only pinned to the bamboo supports. Such experienced aerial navigators as Israel Ludlow advised against the attempt, but Hamilton persisted, claiming that he had promised to make an ascent, and that he would do it.

And he did do it and did it to the satisfaction of the most blase sportsman. Two magnificent White steamers, owned by the Hotel Continental, had the aeroplane in tow, and a height of at least 200 feet was reached before the accident that precipitated the daring aeronaut occurred. As far as excitement was concerned, it was a most auspicious opening of the automobile tournament, and one that will never be forgotten by the hundreds of people who witnessed it.

During the entire morning, Hamilton and Ludlow worked on the aeroplane, yet when the tide again set in, it was not completed. Tournament officials advised against an attempted flight, but Hamilton was persistent. “I promised the people an ascent.” he said, “and I am going to give them one.” And he did!

The entire lower portion of the aeroplane was uncovered, as was one of the dorsal fins, a fin added in the hope that it would prevent the sickening, death-filled, pitching. Hamilton did not hesitate. Tearing the rolls of muslin into he began pinning it to the framework, and within an hour the lower covering was in place. “I am ready,” was his calm announcement.

The Flight Begins

By the time the big aeroplane was ready for the ascent, the tide was nearly flood, and only a narrow strip of beach remained for the automobiles that were to tow the kite. Two of the cars declined to make the effort, and for a time it looked as though the attempt would have to be abandoned. Mr. H. E. Bemis, manager of Hotel Continental, then proffered the two large White steamers, owned by the hotel, and Hamilton accepted. A fifteen foot rope was quickly secured and tied at each end to one of the cars. Directly in the center, the guy ropes reachIng from the aeroplane were fastened, and an instant later Hamilton took his place on the frail rope seat in the center of the aeroplane. It was arranged that when the little aeronaut waved his handkerchief the autos should stop running, and then the flight began.

Reached 250 feet

Ludlow, who was in one or the towing cars, gave the signal for a start, and instantly the two powerful machines started, taking up the slack in the tow-rope. The big kite, like some monster bird, lifted as lightly as a feather in the strong southeast wind, and in less than a minute was more than 250 feet in the air. It was sailing easily, marked by none of the fearful pitching or sudden turnings that have so often meant death to aeronauts. Hamilton, clinging to the rope just above his seat, was as cool as though he had never left the earth. Higher and higher soared the kite, until the entire slack had been taken up, and the daring little aeronaut was at least 250 feet in the air. A seagull, beaten landward by the high wind, hovered about the kite as though to dispute the right of its little rider to soar with it through the air. It was a beautiful sight, and one that will never be forgotten by the crowd that lined the Hotel Continental pier and the sand dunes just beyond the broad, white beach.

The Bamboo Breaks

Then, just as absolute success seemed about to crown the daring of the reckless aeronaut came the catastrophe. Three men, running along behind the kite, heard the dreaded snap that told that one of the bamboo supports had broken. An instant later the spectators saw the aeroplane pitch and start to fall. Hamilton, realizing that death was very, very close, jumped to his feet and clutched at the broken bamboo. But even as he caught it, it broke in another flight, and fate alone ruled his chance of life.

The little fellow. realizing that the end of the fight had come, called to the men in the automobile, “She’s broken! Stop!” But the strong wind carried the voice backwards, and Hamilton realized that only his own presence of mind and daring coolness could preserve his life. He thought of his handkerchief and the signal that had been agreed upon, and the horrified spectators below saw him reach for it and realized that he could not find It. Up and down, back and forth, now wafted out to sea and now thrown violently landward rolled the aeroplane, Hamilton all the while fighting for his life.

Plunged Head-Foremost

The automobiles, crowded with people to give them added weight, saw the danger and stopped. Ludlow, forgetting everything but the danger of the man far up there in the air, leaped over the back of the car in which he had been riding and started toward the kite. Men, desiring only to catch in their arms the little aeronaut, whose daring appealed to every heart, hurried toward the kite. The seagull, frightened by the fearful pitching, fled back to sea.

Then a portion of the pinned wings ripped loose. The big kite, like some sentient being rushing to its doom, righted Itself, quivered there in the air for an instant, turned, and fell. Hamilton was now plunging earthward–and earth was more than 150 feet away–held in place only by the arm that, in desperation, he had thrown over the thin rope above his rope seat.

The Sensational Descent

The kite, now placed like some huge sail, tacked and turned toward the sea. Hamilton, plunging head downward, held to his little rope with the death grip, realizing that his life hung in the balance. The spectators, seeing nothing but death for the aeronaut, turned away. Senator Morgan and two or three others who had been running after the aeroplane, turned and ran toward the water, prepared to do their best to rescue him. Hamilton’s feet had caught in the rope basket, and the people could see him struggling to free them.

Down swept the kite, gathering momentum with every foot of fall: uncontrolled, fearful in its very falling. almost demoniac in its awful rush. Then it shifted again and darted landward, as though seeking to add to the danger of the almost helpless man. Twice more it pitched; righted itself: turned on end and fell with a crash. The huge canvas wing hid the aeronaut and the spectators knew not how he had landed.

Almost Unhurt

Senator Morgan was the first to reach him though Ludlow was there an instant later. Hamilton, standing just on the edge of the incoming tide, was pinned in the kite. Two of the bamboo supports, so fragile in the air but so strong on earth, had jammed together over his wrist and held him in a vice-like grip. The aeronaut himself, plunging through the wires that held the bamboos in position. was badly cut about the face and the blood, streaming from a cut over the nose. gave the Impression that he was more badly injured than he really was. He himself, cool as when he began the ascent, laughed and asked that his arm be freed, so that he could smoke a cigar. The aeroplane, striking on its end. had warded off death just when it was most imminent. The death grip on the thin little rope, combining with the sudden reverse when the aeroplane struck the beach, had righted Hamilton and for the thirty-first time he had landed and was alive.

Will Ascend Again

Quickly the man was freed from bamboo trap, and within a moment the crowd had rushed about him and was congratulating him on his escape. “Let me go,” he laughed, as unconcerned as though just returning from some social gathering. “I promised, through the Times-Union, that I would go up, and I went. I’m not hurt and I’ll be on hand for another ascent just as soon as the repairs to the aeroplane can be made.” Then he turned and walked toward the Hotel Continental and his rooms there, and last night, when his sensational flight was almost the sole topic of conversation, Hamilton was the one who considered it least of all.

Will Race Airships

This morning Hamilton will at once begin repairing the damage to his aeroplane, and hopes to have it ready for another flight by Wednesday, at the latest. When he makes the next attempt, the wings will be sewed in place and instead of using a short towrope, as was the case yesterday, he will use 1,200 feet of rope. The Ludlow aeroplane, differing only slightly from that used by Hamilton yesterday, is nearly completed. Mr. Ludlow having spent the greater part of yesterday upon it. If this is completed by Wednesday, the two ships, one navigated by Hamilton and the other by Ludlow. will race through the air, and no more exciting sport could be imagined. If the aeroplane is repaired in time, Hamilton will make another ascent this afternoon, but otherwise the attempt will go over until tomorrow.

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Over the course of his lifetime, Hamilton’s daredevil flights earned him the nickname of “Crazy man of the air.” He survived over 60 crashes. Hamilton died of tuberculosis at the age of 28 in January 1914, a few months shy of his 29th birthday. https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-brooklyn-daily-times-brooklyn-daily/192685280/

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