Exactly 50
years before Martin Luther King, Jr., delivered his famous “I Have
A Dream” speech, an intrepid young man, aged thirty-one, became
the first licensed African American aviator. The odds are you will not
even recognize his name.
As we celebrated Martin Luther King Day
in America yesterday, January 19, it seems the enormity of “black
history” continues to unfold and reveal itself. Today we explore
what for us was a startling revelation: a virtually unknown man with claims
to several aviation firsts. His accomplishments are not only noteworthy
because he was a person of color, but also for their influence in advancing
the history of aviation.
Emory Conrad Malick, born on December 29,
1881, in Northumberland County, PA, had high-flying dreams from the early
years of his life.
A carpenter and aviation enthusiast, Emory
combined his love of the latter with his expertise in the former, building
his own gliders to fly to his job as a farmhand at Cattie Weiser’s
farm, just across the Susquehanna River (Emory and his father also installed
the mahogany veneering in the Pennsylvania Railroad’s dining cars).
According to his great niece, Mary Groce, who has compiled a fantastic
website enumerating her great uncle’s many accomplishments (and
to whom we owe many thanks for her help and research in this article),
Emory’s first recorded flight was on “July 24, 1911…
in an engine-powered ‘aeroplane,’ which took place in Seven
Points (PA).”
On March 20, 1912, Emory became the first
licensed African American aviator, receiving his F.A.I. (Federation Aeronautique
Internationale) license #105, after learning to fly at the Curtiss Aviation
School in San Diego, CA.
Mr. Malick was also the first African American
pilot to earn his Federal Airline Transport License, #1716, issued on
April 30, 1927.
In the summer of 1914, according to Glenn
Curtiss Museum records in Hammondsport, New York, Emory “obtained,
assembled—and improved upon—his own Curtiss ‘pusher’
biplane, which he flew over Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania, ‘to the wonderment
of all!’” Local factories were shut down so workers could
witness the aerial wonder—the first human to cut the clouds over
central PA.
The Flying
Dutchman
By early 1918, Emory was at work in Philadelphia,
transporting passengers on joyrides up into the air and to nearby destinations.
He piloted a Waco 9 (an early and quite excellent all-metal bi-plane with
a reliable Curtiss OX5 engine and two places for passengers) for the Flying
Dutchman Air Service.
Interestingly, KLM in Holland was founded October 1, 1919, and flights
from Amsterdam all the way to Batavia (Indonesia) became known as the
“Route of the Flying Dutchmen.”
Emory’s records state that he actually
established the Flying Dutchman Air Service with Ernie Buehl, a former
German pilot who was remembered for having taught and encouraged black
pilots, including Charles Alfred Anderson.
Date With
Eleanor Roosevelt
An important historical point of that era is
that “Chief” Anderson later flew for Eleanor Roosevelt, who
was quickly impressed with his abilities. She of course convinced her
husband, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, that African Americans were beyond
skilled enough to fly for the United States during World War II, and it
was the “Chief” who then became the Chief Flight instructor
for the Tuskegee Airmen.
The Complete
Package
Emory was a triple threat: a pilot, a mechanic,
and an engineer, and to add to his list of accomplishments as a dreamer,
he was also an aerial photographer for the Aero Service Corporation and
Dalin Aerial Surveys.
Emory retired from the skies after May 20,
1928, when an unfortunate crash killed a passenger and left his eyes so
seriously injured that he was officially grounded, and lost his Federal
Transport License. When asked to participate in a flight, he said, “I’ve
had my fun, and now I’m done.”
History Misguided
At the 1928 dedication of the Sunbury Airport,
which straddled the Susquehanna River over which Emory Malick used to
glide to work in Sunbury, PA, Emory, the first and arguably greatest pilot
of his era, was overlooked in favor of out-of-towner Wesley Smith, to
whom the airport was dedicated.
The snub was recalled in a local newspaper,
which stated that Emory should have been the focus of the dedication;
after all, it was Emory’s engine—the same engine that had
first flown over the city and had been thus far stored in his father’s
basement—which the Sunbury Airport put on display for the dedication.
History Lost
In late December 1958, at 77 years old, Emory
Conrad Malick slipped on an icy sidewalk, fell, and hit his head. He was
found unconscious and rushed to the hospital, but it was too late. Sadly,
he remained unidentified in the morgue for over a month before the FBI
was able to track down his sister, Annie.
Great Niece
All information on Emory C. Malick has been carefully
and lovingly gathered through the slow uncovering and tireless research
conducted by his great-niece, Mary Groce. She believes—correctly—that
Emory Malick has earned his rightful place as the first licensed African
American pilot. She says, “Even though Emory was my grandmother’s
brother, I was never told about him, and only recently found information
and photos hidden away in attic boxes. In my journey to uncover his story,
I learned the sad (but, thankfully, only partial) truth in words spoken
to me by a very old, white, retired Air Force pilot: ‘Hey, he was
an out-of-towner, and he was black. Of course no one saved any record
of him!’” We would argue that his “record” can
be found in the immense and indelible effect he had on the history of
African Americans in aviation—from the humble beginnings of a man
gliding over a river to work, to the indispensable service of the Tuskegee
Airmen. Without Emory, crucial links would be severed, and vital historic
events would simply cease to exist.
Black Into
White
Interestingly, Mary Groce’s grandmother,
Annie, who identified her brother’s body, was put up for adoption
at a very young age, along with her sister, Cora.
Annie was apparently “light skinned”
and effectively “passing for white,” was adopted by a white
family.
It was only after perusing some old family
documents that Mary Groce discovered her hidden family heritage, and her
connection to the first African American pilot of the United States.
Mary will be presenting a program about
E. C. Malick at the Curtiss Mansion in Miami Springs, Florida, on Thursday,
February 12, at 7pm. She is still working on a biography of her great
uncle, but is looking for a publisher for a completed children’s
book about him titled Emory Conrad Malick—Our First Licensed Black
Pilot. She says that “sharing the story of E. C. Malick” is
“her grand passion” and welcomes and encourages anyone with
information about her great uncle to contact her at MsMaryGroce@aol.com.
You can read more about Emory Malick at www.emoryconradmalick.com
Flossie
| 
Emory Conrad Malick pictured in his Waco
9.
|
A postscript:
Emory’s Waco 9 sat parked in a hangar
in Schwenksville PA for several years after Emory stopped flying and was
scrapped in 1934.
Today there are at least a dozen examples
of this excellent (270 built) aircraft, which a black man helped prove
airworthy in steady service.
After the Waco 9, the greatest bi-plane
ever, the Waco 10 (1623 built during 1930s) arrived. A completely updated
version is still being built today and mostly available at a smaller airport
near you for joyrides all summer
|
