Harriet
Quimby in a Blériot one-seat monoplane.
Harriet
Quimby was one of a kind—actress, journalist, screenwriter,
pioneer aviatrix, barnstormer before there was a word for
it, and a colorful, defiant independent woman with a dash of style. She was Nellie
Bly crossed with Amelia Earhart,
and a dash of the self-promoting
feminist pioneer Victoria Claffin
Woodhull thrown in for good measure.
Quimby was born to a farm family in Arcadia, Michigan on May 11, 1875. Twelve years later she relocated to the San Francisco Bay area in California. Little is known
of her early life as she purposefully tried to obscure it. She would later
claim that she had been born to a wealthy family in Arroyo Grande, California
on May 1, 1884—not the last time she would re-invent
herself.
Quimby was a remarkably attractive woman and knew how to use her charms to her advantage.
1900 found 25 year old Quimby listed
in the Census for San Francisco as an actress living alone. No credits
for any theater roles have ever been found, but in those days the term was
often used for the dancers in waterfront dives many of whom doubled
as prostitutes—not that there is any
proof that she did that, either. She was
a remarkably attractive woman with
almost black hair, expressive eyes, and evidently quite charming. Her most apparent source of income was as a writer, contributing short pieces and reviews to Bay Area publications.
In 1903 with clippings of those
pieces in hand, and boasting of her experience as an “actress” Quimby crossed
the continent to New York City,
waltzed into the offices of Leslie’s Illustrated Weekly, a
popular women’s magazine and charmed
her way into a job. She was put on as theater critic but was soon reviewing
entertainments of all sorts, including the infant films being shown in Nickelodeons.
Quimby worked as a script writer and actress at D.W. Griffith's Biograph studio in the Bronx.
As the films became more
sophisticated, so did her interest. Through
an old friend from San Francisco, actress Linda
Advinson, Quimby got to know her
husband, pioneer director D.W. Griffith. He
was impressed enough by her to hire her as a screen writer for Biograph
Pictures. She wrote seven film
shorts for him, featuring early Biograph stars Florence La Badie, Wilfred
Lucas, and Blanche Sweet which
were filmed at the company’s Bronx studio. She appeared in one the films that were made between
1910 and 1912 and perhaps was
uncredited in others. Most of these are lost films.
In addition to her reviews, Quimby
sought out new assignments from the magazine.
She wrote articles on how women could be independent—auto repairs,
career tips, and tips on running a household without being a
slave. She taught herself photography, an important skill for the
highly illustrated magazine and wrangled assignments in to Europe, Mexico, Cuba, and Egypt.
All the while she remained an
independent woman. She never married or became dependent on a
man. At a time when it was still
scandalous, she drove her own car, smoked,
and traveled the world unescorted. This is not to say that as an attractive
woman she did not attract attention and welcome it as long as no strings were
attached. She was making a decent living and enjoying the modicum
of celebrity that came with being a
prolific writer.
Quimby, left, with Matilde Moisant, her friend and aviation rival. Although Moisant began flying earlier under the instruction of her brother, Quimby passed her by to become the first American woman liscenced by the International Aeuronautic Federation.
A magazine assignment in October of
1910 changed Quimby’s life. She set out
to photograph the Belmont Park
International Aviation Tournament on Long
Island, and met John Moisant, a
well-known aviator and operator of a
flight school, and his sister Matilde. She was immediately smitten with aviation and
convinced Moisant to take her on as a student,
joining Matilde who had already done some flying. Since the Moisants were French, she was taught in a Blériot
monoplane instead of the rickety Wright or Curtis bi-planes flown by most American pilots. The lessons
continued under Moisant’s brother Alfred
when John was killed in a crash. Quimby was a quick study—and perhaps a little competitive.
Somehow word of her training “leaked” to the press—three guesses on the suspected leaker—creating a flurry of publicity. Quimby began to write about her
experiences. On August 1, 1911she
somehow leaped over Matilde and was granted License #37 from Aero Club
of America, the U.S. affiliate of the International
Aeuronautic Federation which granted international
pilot’s licenses. That made her the first
American woman licensed as a pilot and the second woman in the world behind
the Baroness de la Roche in France.
Matilde Moisant, who may have been a little miffed at having been run
around, soon became the second female American pilot.
Quimby aloft in a Bleriot monoplane at an air show.
With the considerable publicity
surrounding her training and obtaining a license, Quimby decided to launch a
tour “exhibiting myself” and her flying across the U.S. and into Mexico.
Crowds clamored to see the beautiful and glamourous aviatrix. And she knew how to charm them. Quimby designed her own unique flying outfit, plum-colored wool-backed satin, with a cowl hood that was tailored enough to show off her curves. Not for her either aping the gear of male flyers or going up, as some early women
pilots had, in impractical voluminous
skirts. At each stop she made
herself available to the press and could always be counted on for a clever
quote.
Quimby in her signature plum colored flying suit in a promotional poster.
Despite her success Quimby knew that
to achieve real respect as a pilot and be more than simply a novelty, she had to establish some sort
of flying record. She set her sights on being the first woman
to fly across the English Channel. When Miss
Trehawke-Davis flew across as a passenger, she knew it was only a matter of
time before some European female flyer would attempt to pilot the crossing.
With unaccustomed secrecy, lest word of her coming spur
others to make the trip first, Quimby sailed to England. Once there she
talked Louis Blériot, who was the
first person to fly across the Channel in 1909, to loan her one of famous monoplanes.
On April 16, 1912 Quimby took off
from Dover, flying roughly the same
route as Blériot but in reverse she set out for Calais. There was a heavy overcast over the Channel that
day and she had to navigate solely by compass. It took her 59 minutes to make the
crossing in her 50 horsepower plane. She
came safely to earth 25 miles south of Calais on a beach at Hardelot-Plage with hardly a drop of fuel left. She had won her treasured record.
If the sinking of the Titanic initially kept her achievement off the front pages, the Salt Lake Tribune took notice a month and a half later. Two guesses who provided the pictures for this and other American publicity.
She did not attract quite all of the
hoopla that ordinarily surrounded
such early aviation feats because of a sad accident
of the calendar. Her flight took
place the day after the Titanic sank when papers on both
sides of the Atlantic were dedicated almost exclusively to the tragedy and
would remain so for days. All Quimby’s
accomplishment could muster were articles buried deep in most newspaper pages.
Still, by spring of 1912 Quimby was
one of the most famous women in America.
When pilot Calbraith Perry
Rodgers was killed in an April crash of his plane, the Vin Fiz J. Ogden Armour
of the meatpacking family hired
Quimby and her fortuitously purple suit to endorse his brand of grape soda. She was featured in color posters in drug store
soda fountains and in a magazine
advertising campaign.
Quimby as featured in a store promotion for Vin Fiz.
Upon arrival back in the states and
with the sponsorship of Vin Fiz Quimby launched herself in a new and lucrative
tour of the now popular air meets,
rallies, and exhibitions popping
up all around the country.
On July 1, 1912 Quimby flew in the Third Annual Boston Aviation Meet at Squantum, Massachusetts, an event unsanctioned
by the Aero Club of America which could technically have cost her license. But the appearance
fee was handsome and Quimby was glad to lend a hand in promoting the
event. Early in the day she took off
with show manager William Willard as
a passenger in her new two-seat
Bleriot monoplane for the benefit of the press.
Rising to an altitude of about 3,000 feet she flew out to Boston Light in Boston Harbor then returned and circled the airfield where a good
size crowd was now in attendance.
Then suddenly as the plane descended to about 1,500 feet it suddenly shuddered and pitched
forward tumbling Willard out of his seat and to his death. Seconds later Quimby fell after him. The plane itself recovered from whatever had
happened and continued to fly, gliding
down to what would have been a survivable
landing. Her career as a pilot ended
with her death only 9 months after it had begun.
Quimby's body was recovered in shallow water after falling from her plane.
The cause of the sudden lurch
remains one of aviation’s great mysteries.
Some conjecture that a cable
supporting the wing may have snapped and fouled
the engine. Others think that
Willard, a rather large man, may have suddenly shifted his weight in his seat
unbalancing the aircraft. Almost all
agree that if the pilot and passenger had been strapped into their seats, they would not have fallen out and most
likely have walked away from a hard landing.
She was buried at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx, and then was moved to Kenisco Cemetery in Valhalla, New York.
But fame is fleeting and hers faded
from memory. She was most celebrated
back in her home state of Michigan—the place she felt she had escaped from and
actually denied. A historic marker stands in front of the abandoned family home in Arcadia and another in the southern
Michigan town of Coldwater. Her grave in Valhalla is graced with a bronze plaque with a reproduction of
her monoplane and a description of her life and achievement. Perhaps her greatest memorial was the
inspiration to other female pilots—especially Amelia Earhart who idolized her
as a girl.
Quimby as memorialized by the Postal Service in 1991
Interest Quimby has lately revived. In 1991 she was pictured in what is surely
the only glamor shot on an airmail stamp honoring pioneer aviators
by the by the United State Postal
Service. In 2012 she was inducted
into the Long Island Air and Space Hall
of Fame. She was the subject of a
biography by Giacinta Bradley Koontz
which also included numerous photographs, press clippings, and memorabilia
recently discovered. A descendent
company of Biograph Pictures, the company she worked for with D. W.
Griffith, was said to be in development of a bio pic with Donnamarie
Recco in the title role in 2014,
Claims were made the wreckage plane
the Quimby died piloting was found, discovered in a New Hampshire barn during the 1960’s. The aircraft has been meticulously restored
to flying condition and is on display at Old
Rhinebeck Aerodrome, an aviation museum in Red Hook, New York. The
plane is the second oldest in existence still airworthy. But the plane is one-seater Blériot XI, which
bears the Blériot factory’s serial
number 56, showing that it was manufactured in 1909. Since Quimby’s plane,
in 1912, was a brand new two-seater, it could not have been Quimby’s.
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