Century of Flight at Paton Field

D. Schloman William

Description

Celebrating Kent State's historic contributions to flight in northeast Ohio and beyond In this detailed and well-illustrated study, A Century of Flight at Paton Field explores the hundred-year history of the longest surviving public-use airport in Ohio. Intertwining the story of the airport's development with the history of flight education programs at the University, the book highlights a vast cast of characters and an examination of aviation's development on the local level throughout the last century.What was once Stow Field, a small airport in a rural community, stands at the center of this story. It was Kent State's participation in the federal government's Civilian Pilot Training Program (CPTP) in the years leading up to World War II that led to state funding for purchase of the airport, along with support for a similar acquisition by four other state schools. This step prepared the way for the creation of collegiate aviation in Ohio. At Kent State, it brought in Andrew Paton, who created the first flight training curriculum and established a vision for the role the airport could play in a university-run program. In the period between the two World Wars, Stow Field was also the site of aviation exhibits that drew as many as 80,000 people, the christening of Goodyear's first helium blimp, and the area's first commercial airline service.As Kent State's airport is now enjoying both a new vitality and long-awaited investment, Barbara F. Schloman and William D. Schloman place this in context with the at-times-uncertain survival of Kent State's aviation program. This comprehensive history will appeal to graduates of that program and all aviation history enthusiasts, as well as those interested in the history of the region more generally.

Sujets

• Histoire
• University
• Local history
• Midwestern United States
• History of the Americas
• Ohio
• Airport

Informations

• Publié par: The Kent State University Press
• Date de parution: 03 septembre 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 2
• EAN13: 9781631013812
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 5 Mo

Extrait

A Century of Flight at
Paton Field
A Century of Flight at
Paton Field
The Story of Kent State University’s Airport and Flight Education
William D. Schloman and Barbara F. Schloman
The Kent State University Press Kent, Ohio
© 2019 by The Kent State University Press, Kent, Ohio 44242
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-1-60635-386-8
Manufactured in the United States of America
No part of this book may be used or reproduced, in any manner whatsoever, without written permission from the Publisher, except in the case of short quotations in critical reviews or articles.
Cataloging information for this title is available at the Library of Congress.
23  22  21  20   19         5  4  3  2  1
The significance of the past lies with the future, while the present is an indispensable connecting link between the two.
—Andrew W. Paton, “Aeronautics Training in Higher Education”
Contents
Foreword by William Andrew Paton
Preface and Acknowledgments
Chronology of Kent State University Airport Ownership and Operation
  1 The Early Years through 1922
  2 Akron’s De Facto Airport, 1923–26
  3 Years of Promise, 1927–29
  4 The Depression Sets In, 1930–38
  5 Aviation Comes to Kent State University, 1939–41
  6 Wartime at Kent State University, 1941–44
  7 Establishing Aviation Education, 1945–49
  8 Aviation Takes Hold, 1950–62
  9 Total University Control at Last, 1963–71
10 Seeking Financial Stability, 1971–82
11 First Improvements, Then a Threat, 1982–91
12 A New President, New Challenges, 1991–2006
13 Reaching the Century Mark
Epilogue
Notes
Index
William Andrew Paton in front of KSU hangar (Photo by William D. Schloman)
Foreword
This impressive work by Bill and Barbara Schloman tells of the birth and life of Ohio’s century-old Kent State University Airport and honors many people who have contributed to that life. My father was a principal among them. The formative years of KSU aviation coincided with my own.
Andrew W. Paton (pronounced “Payton”) Field of the Kent State University Airport was named after my father, director of Aviation Technology Division at Kent State University during the division’s early years from 1946 to shortly before his untimely death in 1964. Aviation and the KSU Airport were prominent topics around our dinner table. From an early age, my three brothers and I were thoroughly exposed to aeronautical subjects and experiences through our father.
His aviation classrooms and shop (called “laboratory” in this book) at Van Deusen Hall on Kent State’s campus were integral parts of KSU aviation. They were located just four miles across town from the airport. As a young boy, I often walked to the shop after school to await a ride home at the end of my father’s day. The cut-away inline, radial, opposed, and jet engines were fascinating for a mechanically minded child and served to educate me as well as his university undergrads. Skeletonized wings and fuselages were studied and rebuilt by his students, and my brothers and I frequently climbed into the bare cockpits to play pilot. The smell of fresh dope (aircraft lacquer) drying on cotton fabric always signaled the final dressing up of the reconstructed planes in preparation for their test flights. The Goodyear Duck, Republic Seabee, and especially the Waco open-cockpit biplane captured our interest the most. On special occasions, an all-too-brief “solo” in the shop’s Link Trainer was a high point of a visit to my father’s workplace.
But trips to the KSU Airport were always the best. We wandered around the huge Quonset-type hangar in awe, getting up close to so many airplanes. On those trips, there were occasional behind-closed-door meetings between Father and the airport contractor. We were never allowed to follow him behind those doors, and tension frequently filled the air after those sessions. On one unexpected, very early morning trip to the airfield in May 1948, Father showed us the Kent State University Flying Club’s crumpled Aeronca Chief still nosed into the ground in a patch of woods a short walk to the east of the hangar. It was a frighteningly impressive sight for a five-year-old boy, and I recall Father saying the flying club member shouldn’t have been in the air. His passenger was badly injured and sued the club.
Sometimes Father took us for sightseeing flights around the area. Mother almost never came along, and we knew she worried excessively when any of us went flying, but we didn’t! Special occasions induced Father to take one of us kids out of school for a day to fly to Columbus to shop for state surplus property for the university. Always a teacher, on those trips he imparted navigation skills and the rudiments of flying to us. In Columbus, we invariably landed at Don Scott Field, and Father was sure to tell us who Don Scott was and why Ohio State University’s airfield was named after him.
The best flights with Father, however, were in the Waco. She was dolled up in KSU’s Golden Flashes colors, with her shiny new yellow wings and deep-blue fuselage sporting its “golden flashes” of lightning streaking across its sides. To start the radial engine, a ground crewman threw his weight into the inertia starter’s hand crank, slowly and gradually running its flywheel up to speed before Father would engage its clutch to turn the crankshaft over. The tandem open cockpits, staggered wings, and huge rumbling engine made flights in the Waco especially thrilling experiences for us as passengers and for our pilot too. A chandelle (steep climbing turn executed to gain height while changing direction) always capped those flights.
In late 1962, at the height of his career as director of KSU’s Aerospace Technology Division and manager of the KSU Airport, Father had a grand mal seizure and was subsequently diagnosed with a glioblastoma, a very aggressive brain cancer. The fear he expressed then was not that this tumor might take his life (which it did, all too soon), but, as he said with tears in his eyes, “I’m afraid I may never get to fly again.”
After his death in 1964 (and reminiscent of Ohio State University’s Don Scott), the university attached Father’s name to the KSU Airport. When I look up at the iconic, now historic, and still very active KSU hangar to see “Andrew Paton Field” written across its front in bright blue letters, I gratefully sense that Father did get to fly again.
The authors opine that Andrew Paton had a major influence on the development of the KSU Airport. This book conveys why and how he and many others contributed to making this important airfield what it is today.
In the early 2000s, when its very existence was threatened by university policy decisions, I and many other supporters joined Albert Beckwith’s campaign to save Andrew Paton Field. The fact that the airport’s salvation can be traced to the fortuitous decision by KSU president Glenn Olds in 1973 doesn’t diminish our pride in having added our voices to the support effort.
With high interest, and much appreciation to the authors, I read this meticulously researched and interestingly informative chronicle of the airport to which Father dedicated so much of himself. May you also enjoy and learn from this volume produced by Bill and Barbara Schloman’s most dedicated efforts.
William Andrew Paton, MD , Orthopedic Surgeon, Indian Health Service, Ret., Anchorage, Alaska
 

Area map showing the KSU, Mid-City, and Akron Municipal Airports (Map by William W. Schloman Jr.)
Preface and Acknowledgments
Our research on the history of the Kent State University Airport was undertaken to gather information for the airport’s centennial celebration. As we uncovered stories of a rich and varied past, we also determined that the airport’s longevity establishes it as the longest-surviving public-use airport in Ohio. Believing this history deserved a more complete telling led to this book.
What also became clear is that, for the first decades, this is a regional story that mirrors the development of aviation at that time. Activity at what was then Stow Field was intertwined in one way or another with Akron Municipal Airport (now Akron Fulton Airport) and Mid-City Airport in Darrowville (now Hudson). Therefore, while the early narrative centers on Stow Field, the other two airports are covered as well.
Many stories about the KSU Airport have been passed down over time. An important objective for us was to substantiate these or to provide clarification as needed. In this task, as well as for the entire project, we have benefitted from access to resources that were not available in the past. We have made every effort to document our sources to aid readers and future historians.
The many events making up the airport’s story included some that were quite notable. But it was the people who set the path leading to the airport as we know it today that left a greater impression. We have been fortunate to connect with family members linked to the past and with individuals whose own history dovetailed with the airport’s. They have been unfailingly generous in sharing stories, artifacts, and photos. We hope we have adequately represented their contributions.
From the Stow Field period, we wish to acknowledge Fran M. Hermance, Rick and Karolyn Gardner, Andrew Heins, Richard F. Smith, Carolyn Garrett Barton, Jean Schneider Kreyche, and Chris and Joe Van Devere. Our narrative highlights the Civil Pilot Training Program (CPTP), which led to Kent State University ownership of the airport. Our appreciation goes to Adrian Van Wyen for photos and artifacts of the period. We followed the lives of several of the first CPTP graduates and learned of their heroism in war and of the aviation careers of others. We were touched by their stories and by the willingness of their families to share. We wish to thank Laura Assia, Russellyn “Rusty” Edwards, Donna Field, Ann Hendricks, Lowell “Buzz” Starner, Donald Stubbs, and Doug Wilkin.
Kent State University owners