changed from one company to another. Pilots often flew the planes of competing companies and no one though it unusual. When a pilot and his plane went missing, other pilots, with few exceptions, and regardless of company loyalty, participated in the aerial search for him.
In November, 1929, world-famous pilot Ben Eielson and his mechanic, Earl Borland, flew from the tiny coastal Alaska village of Teller into a snowstorm that raged over the Bering Sea. They were bound for the ice-locked trading ship Nanuk in Siberia which held a cargo of valuable furs. They were to fly the furs to Fairbanks to be transshipped to the New York fur market.
Their airplane didn’t arrive at the trading vessel, nor did it return to Teller.
The winter search for the missing plane became the climactic Alaskan aviation event of the 1920s that was followed in news accounts by millions around the world. Between fierce storms searching pilots clothed head-to-toes in fur flew through brutal deep cold in open-cockpit biplanes. Daylight hours were dim and brief, for the sun remained below or close to the horizon.
Searching pilots first had to cross sixty miles of the ice-choked Bering Sea between Alaska and Siberia. They then followed the wild and barren Asian coast 375 miles to Nanuk, the base from which they flew their searches. Every foot they flew posed major flight hazards.
Today, despite the advances in quality and dependability of airplanes, even modern pilots would consider such flying as extremely risky.
It was late January before the missing plane was found.
Alaska’s aviation family of the 1920s included heroic and bold pilots. They had to be adventuresome to do the flying they did. Those early fliers well-deserved the praise and affection bestowed upon them.
In this volume I have portrayed a handful of these men, concentrating largely on a few who pioneered aviation in Alaska’s vast and rugged Interior, and who also participated in the search for the lost Eielson and Borland.
Alaska’s aviation industry was a struggling infant during the 1920s. Eventually it became a giant upon which today’s rural and not so-rural Alaskans are totally dependent. What would modern Alaska be without airplanes and bush pilots?
— JIM REARDEN
SprucewoodHomer, Alaska
Acknowledgments
Richard Wien, lifelong resident of Fairbanks, and a long time commercial pilot, got me involved in the stories told in this volume. Not only that, to accompany the stories, he generously supplied beautiful, historic and irreplaceable photos from his father Noel’s collection. Further, he carefully read early drafts and guided me through many aviation pitfalls. He contributed technical aviation aspects, as well as memories of his father’s stories of the pilots and the times covered herein. Many thanks, Richard. Somehow that seems an inadequate way to express my appreciation for all your favors.
My wife Audrey, son Michael Rearden, and daughter Mary Bookman carefully read early drafts of this tome. Audrey’s sharp eyes spotted typos and fuzzy wording; Mike the same, plus he did on-line computer research to fill many gaps I was unable to fill; Mary rearranged my comas, periods, and sentences into more acceptable form. My deep thanks for a family that didn’t hesitate to criticize.
Homer Dr. Paul Eneboe, the Rearden family physician for four decades, and an avid reader, found an abundance of material in an early draft that needed reorganizing. I asked him for comments because I knew he wouldn’t hold back, and I was right. He convinced me to make major changes from my original approach to this story. Thanks, Paul, you were right.
My thanks also to LD. “Corky” Corkran, CEO of the Pioneer Air Museum at Fairbanks, who was most helpful when I arrived at his fine museum to take photos and notes for this book.
Thanks to the Bob Reeve family for permission to use the Harvey Goodale portraits of Noel Wien and Ed Young. Early Alaska pilot Bob Reeve commissioned Goodale to produce a wonderful set of about two dozen portraits of Alaska’s early pilots, including these two.
Mary Carlson at the Hatton-Eielson Museum, in Hatton, North Dakota, provided photos and helpful information on Ben Eielson, plus permission to use the elegant portrait of Eielson that appears on the cover of this volume. Many thanks, Mary.
Terrence Cole, Professor of History at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, obligingly read an advance draft of the manuscript and generously provided the comments that appear on the back cover. Many thanks, Terrence.
To the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, long the finest newspaper in Alaska, thanks again for allowing me to use in one of my books quotes from your pages.
My thanks too to Stan Cohen, publisher, who continues to publish my books. Of the seven publishers who have printed my books, Cohen’s Pictorial Histories Publishing Company has been by far the most satisfying. This book is my eleventh with his company’s imprint. Stan Cohen’s word over the telephone is more dependable than a written contract with some publishers I could name.
Kitty Herrin, of Arrow Graphics, at Missoula, Montana, has expertly designed all eleven of the books I have written for Pictorial Histories Publishing. Kitty’s skill at presenting my clumsy writings in gracefully designed books is to me a constant source of amazement. Thanks, Kitty, for the quality of your work.
— JIM REARDEN
SprucewoodHomer, Alaska
Book One
THE BEGINNINGS
Carl Ben Eielson in his twenties in the type of dress affected by outdoorsmen at the time; “chokebore” pants with leather puttees, and a pocket watch on a chain. Early pilots and others in Alaska often wore laced leather knee boots.
1
Ben Eielson Arrives at Fairbanks
Born at Hatton, North Dakota, in 1897, Carl Ben Eielson arrived in Fairbanks in 1922 to teach English and science in the high school and to coach the basketball team.
As a boy he was fascinated with airplanes, and decided he wanted to be a pilot. His father, Ole, a Hatton businessman, was opposed to the idea. “Too dangerous,” he said.
Ben graduated from the Hatton high school and entered the University of North Dakota at Grand Forks, where he sang in the glee club, played cornet in the band, and joined the debating club. He transferred to the University of Wisconsin briefly, and in January, 1917, despite concerns of his father, he enlisted in the U.S. Signal Corps, Aviation Section, at Fort Omaha, Nebraska. In June, 1918, he transferred to the School of Military Aeronautics, University of California, Berkeley for eight weeks of ground school prior to flight training. He was then sent to Mather Field, near Sacramento, where he learned to fly. He was commissioned second lieutenant in the Aviation Section of the U.S. Signal Corps, and had orders to sail for France. The war ended, and his orders to France were cancelled.
Second Lieutenant Carl Ben Eielson when assigned to the Aviation Section of the U.S. Signal Corps. He was honorably discharged in 1919, and remained in the Signal Officers Reserve Corps.
He remained at Mather Field, and in March, 1919, he was honorably discharged as a Second Lieutenant, Signal Officers Reserve Corps. He chose to remain in the reserve corps.
THE HATTON AERO CLUB
Back home in Hatton, Ben worked in his father’s store, joined the American Legion, and talked aviation to anyone who would listen. His enthusiasm resulted in formation of the Hatton Aero Club during the winter 1919–20, which purchased a military surplus Model J1 Jenny for $2,485.
With this airplane Ben barnstormed in North Dakota that summer and flew to small town fairs for exhibition flights, which included acrobatics