By Jim Ross, Dan Patch Historical Society
One hundred years ago in the summer of 1923, America’s premier pilot was forced to land in a swampy area in Savage due to a torrential downpour.
Charles A. Lindbergh was born February 4, 1902 in Detroit and was raised south of Little Falls, Minnesota. At age 18, having a knack for all things mechanical, he studied engineering at the University of Wisconsin. He left after two years with poor academic results; the new field of aviation had struck his fancy. He learned to fly at Nebraska Aircraft Corporation and became a mechanic. In April of 1923, at the age of 21, with financial help from his father, he bought a surplus WWI Curtiss JN-4 biplane, a “Jenny,” for $500. He joined other pilots and became a barnstormer – pilots who flew throughout the country selling rides and performing stunts. To help cut expenses, Lindbergh would often sleep under the wing of the plane with a cushion from the cockpit, or trade a plane ride for room and board. Lindbergh’s paying customers got 15 minutes of airtime for $5.
The Jenny’s wingspan was over 43 feet and 27 feet in length with a top speed of 70 mph. Powered by a 90 horsepower Curtiss OX-5 engine, the Jenny had a sensitive stability. Cheaply priced, its limited power allowed for the stunt flying of barnstorming. The radiator of the OX-5 had a tendency to overheat, and water would boil over and spray the windshield. Pilots had about a half hour to land before they needed to add more water. Exhaust pipes also caused issues as fumes and oil would spit back into the pilots face. Flying gear consisted of leather leggings, helmets and goggles. Pilots carried their own tools and linen for wing repair. The OX-5 used regular gas, burning about 9 gallons per hour with a 21-gallon tank. Aviation was unregulated in 1923, with no laws, licenses, or qualifications to fly or carry passengers. The Aeronautical Chamber of Commerce statistics showed 470 accidents from 1921 to 1923 with 221 deaths.
In May of 1923, Lindbergh’s father, also Charles, wrote him that there was money to be made back up north. Charles Sr., a former U.S. congressman, was campaigning for a U.S. senate seat and they could combine barnstorming with dropping his political handbills from the plane. As Lindbergh’s Jenny headed north in early June, with a stopover for gas in Iowa, he planned on meeting his father in Shakopee. As he neared the area he was met by a severe thunderstorm and was forced to circle over Savage waiting for the storm to pass. But when his cylinders started cutting out, he was forced to land quickly. He eyed a flat area near the Minnesota River and went low. At touchdown, the earth proved to be swampy, and after 20 feet, the Jenny’s nose dipped into the mud, dug in, and flipped over. With the top wing and radiator touching the ground, and the propeller cracked, Lindbergh was left suspended in his safety belt.
Reports vary as to whether he cut himself free or he merely released the belt, but either way he was uninjured. Reports also vary on whether he walked to a nearby farmhouse for help and met the farmer who witnessed the crash, or if he was rescued by two local Savage youths. Townspeople soon gathered to gawk at the wreck. The locals helped right the plane and pull Jenny to firmer earth. The crash site is located in what is now downtown Savage, near Highway 13 and Port Cargill.
Though cushioned by the soft mud, “Lucky Lindy” was not going anywhere with a bad propeller. He wired for a replacement from Little Falls and in the intervening 3 days it took to arrive, he was a guest at the Savage Depot under the care of Charles F. McCarthy, depot agent and mayor of Savage. The depot still rests in Savage, though not in its original spot. The deeply worn depot steps that Lindbergh would have walked have been removed for safety reasons and are in the archives of the Dan Patch Historical Society.
Lindbergh’s log indicates when he left the swamp in Savage after installing his new propeller, he eventually made it to Glencoe to meet up with his father and spread the campaign materials from the air. At Glencoe, there was another mishap, and they wound up in a ditch, damaging the propeller and landing gear again, but both Lindbergh and his father were unharmed.
After another crash in 1927, Lindbergh’s barnstorming Jenny was sold for parts. It was rescued from an Iowa barn and has since been restored and displayed in multiple locations. It was once on Long Island, New York, where Lindbergh himself confirmed its identity when he found his own initials he had carved on a wing. It survived a massive fire while on display at the Minneapolis Northwestern National Bank building in 1982. It also spent some time on display at Terminal 1 at the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport, also known as the Lindbergh Terminal. The Jenny is currently housed at The Cradle of Aviation Museum in Garden City, New York.
On May 20-21, 1927, Lindbergh was the first person to fly solo and nonstop from New York to Paris. His plane, the “Spirit of St. Louis,” took 33 ½ hours to complete the 3,610-mile trip. He was met with enthusiastic ovations, much adulation and worldwide fame. Later that year, he returned to Minnesota on a whirlwind tour. As he left town, he flew over Savage to acknowledge their hospitality extended to him in 1923. He circled several times, buzzed down to 100 feet, waved at his old friend Charlie McCarthy and dropped him a letter of greetings.
Resources and Further Reading
City of Savage Website
“Lindbergh’s Return to Minnesota,” Minnesota History, Winter 1970.
“Barnstorming With Lindbergh,” Minnesota History, Summer 1991.
This article first appeared in the Dan Patch Historical Society Newsletter and the City of Savage’s website in an abbreviated form. We have republished it here with permission of the author.