By December 1928, Miami was in the grip of aviation fever.

Construction of the city’s Municipal Airport had just been completed. Regular airmail service between Miami and Atlanta was inaugurated on December 1. Across town, Pan American Airways was putting the finishing touches on its new international airport at Northwest 36th Street. Plans were already underway for grand dedication ceremonies in January, to include the first of the All-American Air Maneuvers that would soon make Miami famous among aviation enthusiasts.

Not content to wait until January, city officials organized another aerial spectacle. Publicity Director Hamilton M. Wright, Jr. proposed what newspapers called the nation’s first civilian aerial convoy—a formation flight composed entirely of aircraft flown by Miami’s civil aviation fraternity of local pilots, tour operators and flying school instructors.

On the morning of December 23, 1928, a gleaming Ford Tri-Motor transport piloted by Capt. O. M. Goodsell lifted off from its landing area on the Venetian Causeway carrying Mayor Everest G. Sewell, city officials, and civic leaders. According to contemporary reports, the morning was cold and sparkling. To the west, a purple haze hung over the Everglades. Below, the Miami River looked like a narrow ribbon of blue winding through the city. Automobiles crawled along Biscayne Boulevard like tiny black beetles, while the causeways stretched across the bay like thin threads.

As thousands watched from Biscayne Boulevard and Bayfront Park, other aircraft joined the formation. Two Travelairs from Sam Belcher’s airfield near Northwest 36th Street fell into position. Additional aircraft joined from the Northwest 54th Street field. Near the Municipal Airport, Curtiss Flying Service pilots launched two Travelairs and a Curtiss Robin to merge with the growing formation. Over Miami Shores, three Rogers Airlines Seagulls and a Curtiss Ireland amphibian rose from the bay to complete the convoy.

By the time the assembly was complete, fourteen aircraft stretched across the sky in a giant V-shaped wedge nearly a quarter-mile wide. Two additional aircraft carrying photographers darted around the formation, capturing images from every angle. The Ford Tri-Motor’s silver wings flashed in the winter sunlight while amphibians, flying boats, and landplanes held their positions behind it.

The convoy swept southward over Biscayne Bay at an altitude of about 1,000 feet toward Cape Florida before banking and turning northward again. To spectators on the ground, the formation resembled a flock of giant birds crossing the skyline. From the air, passengers enjoyed a remarkable view of a city increasingly defining itself through aviation.

Though it lasted only about 40 minutes, the flight perfectly captured the optimism of a city that believed aviation would play a central role in its future. As the formation dispersed, landplanes returned to the Municipal Airport and the fields at Northwest 36th and Northwest 54th Streets, while amphibians and seaplanes settled back onto the waters of Biscayne Bay.

Within weeks, Miami would formally dedicate both its Municipal Airport and Pan American’s new international airport, further cementing its growing reputation as the aerial gateway to the Americas. The convoy itself was little more than a publicity stunt, but it offered a vivid glimpse of the confidence, enthusiasm, ambition, and excitement that surrounded aviation in Miami at the dawn of the Air Age.