Above and Beyond: Aunt Mildred

A race across the Pacific.

  • By Richard A. Durose
  • Air & Space magazine, March 2011
View More Photos »
Left to right Bill Malloska the airplane’s owner; Augie Pedlar pilot; Manley Lawling navigator later replaced by Vilas Knope; and Mildred Doran in classic uniform. Left to right: Bill Malloska, the airplane’s owner; Augie Pedlar, pilot; Manley Lawling, navigator, later replaced by Vilas Knope; and Mildred Doran, in classic uniform.

Courtesy Richard A. Durose

Photo Gallery (1/2)

Mildred Doran, in classic uniform.

See more photos from the story


(Page 2 of 2)

When asked about Mildred’s courage in making the flight, Pedlar recalled an incident at an airshow in Lansing. Sloniger told a crowd he was about to take his airplane up to 7,000 feet, shut down the engine, and land right on the spot where he was standing. “Who wants to go?” The crowd nervously backed away, leaving one diminutive figure in front of him. Sloniger chuckled. “All right. Come on, Mil.”

Reporters interviewed Mildred at every stop on the way to California. One reporter wrote, “But although she photographs remarkably well, it’s hard for a camera to suggest her wide hazel eyes and warm olive coloring or the dimple that comes with her infrequent smiles.” For the race, Mildred wore khaki jodhpurs and a tunic with a Sam Browne belt. The Lincoln Oils logo was embroidered on each arm. She sported a handful of fraternity pins sent by admiring college boys.

At noon on August 16, 1927, eight aircraft lined up at Oakland Field in front of 50,000 spectators. Two airplanes, Pabco Pacific Flyer and El Encanto, crashed on takeoff (with no casualties). Six airplanes took off, but three returned in minutes because of mechanical problems—including Miss Doran, its engine “sputtering like a Tin Lizzie.” Mechanics hurriedly replaced its spark plugs. Mildred, waiting nearby, was advised that Pedlar thought it best that she not come along for his second attempt. Still Mildred boarded. While some reporters wrote that Mildred looked ashen and in tears as she got on the airplane, a reporter/sorority sister who spoke to her while she waited wrote that Mildred said, “There’s no use making a fuss about it. You have to take things as they come.”

Of the eight aircraft that qualified, four set out for Honolulu. Art Goebel’s Woolaroc and Martin Jensen’s Aloha made it, but Golden Eagle and Miss Doran disappeared. Malloska offered $10,000 for Miss Doran’s recovery. The U.S. Navy searched for 12 days and found nothing. Ten aviators died—three preparing for the race, five during it, and two in the search for survivors.

Memorials and ceremonies were held in honor of those lost. In Flint, factories shut down for prayers. Flags flew at half mast. Thousands attended a memorial at San Francisco’s Pier 30. Another tribute was held at sea, aboard the SS Maui, and Mildred’s fifth grade students sent a floral arrangement with the inscription “God Bless You Every One.” Some 5,000 floral pieces were set afloat on the Pacific Ocean.

The Boston Daily Advertiser wrote: “When the spark has passed from the bodies of all who read these lines, admirers of valor and of noble spirit will be celebrating the name of Mildred Doran.” The Canadian province of Ontario named a lake in her honor. Among the tributes her family received was a poem by Marcel Ducout, a writer for L’Aérophile, the journal of the Aéro Club de France.

In 1929, Malloska had the Doran Tower constructed adjacent to Lincoln Field as a memorial to Mildred, vowing it would stand for 100 years. Next to the building was a large stone with a quote from Theodore Roosevelt: “Only those are fit to live who do not fear to die.” Malloska later sold his oil business to Cities Service Company (now Citgo). In 1932, Lincoln Field was bought by a developer and named Lincoln Manor Subdivision. The tower was moved and the plaque was lost. In 1973, the relocated tower was torn down because the owner could not afford municipal fees and taxes.

I wish Mildred had backed out when urged to do so. She would have had many other flying opportunities like the Dole race. And I would have gotten to know a very interesting aunt.

In 1927, during the Dole Trans-Pacific Air Race, Mildred Doran was lost over the Pacific. Her little sister, Helen—my mother—was so grief-stricken by the loss of her sister that she never talked about Mildred. In 1948, when I was 10, while visiting relatives in Flint, Michigan, my parents announced that we would drive by the Doran Tower, named in Mildred’s memory. The three-story, six-sided wood building was tapered at the top like a windmill. As a child, I thought it odd that a building housing a gas station would be designated a memorial.

A couple of years ago, when I retired, I looked into the picture albums, scrapbooks, and memorabilia my mother had kept and tracked down books and magazine articles about the Dole race. I learned that only a year before the race, while still in college, Mildred and a friend attended an airshow, where they were offered a ride. In a newspaper clipping, Mildred later recounted: “I could have just prayed for someone to forbid me to go,” but since her friend was willing, she would not back out. She told the Detroit Times, “I am nothing of a hoyden and yet the first time I went up, I wasn’t a bit afraid.”

Lincoln Oils, which operated a chain of gas stations in Michigan, was owned by Bill Malloska, a former carnival owner. The flamboyant marketer was always looking for ways to promote his business and was well known around Flint as the generous sponsor of baseball and bowling teams. Though not a pilot, three miles from downtown Flint he constructed a hangar and airstrip, called Lincoln Field, simply for the publicity potential.

Soon an airshow out of Lincoln, Nebraska, made Lincoln Field its headquarters. The Air Circus, an adjunct of the Lincoln Standard Aircraft Company, picked Flint because of its central Michigan location: The well-paid auto workers made excellent customers. The circus advertised air races, stunt flying, wingwalking, parachute jumps, and rides for patrons.

Malloska approached the Circus with a proposition. He would supply free fuel and oil to the performers if they would paint “Lincoln Oils—Flint” on the fuselages of their airplanes.

Mildred started bringing the latest flying news to the airshow performers at Lincoln Field—and in 1927, there was plenty to talk about. Just four days after Charles Lindbergh landed in Paris, James Dole, the “Pineapple King,” announced a prize of $25,000 for the first pilot to fly from California to Hawaii, 2,400 miles over the Pacific. Mildred begged Malloska to enter the Dole race—and let her go along. Malloska agreed to sign up. It would be a publicity bonanza.

When Lincoln Standard could not deliver an airplane in time, Malloska purchased a Buhl Airsedan CA-5, made in nearby Marysville, Michigan. At a dedication ceremony, which included the mayor and other dignitaries from Flint, the name of the Buhl was revealed: Miss Doran. Mildred would sit in the back. A large Lincoln Oils logo was on both sides of the red, white, and blue sesquiplane—a design in which the lower wing is smaller than the upper. It was christened with—thanks to Prohibition—a bottle of ginger ale.

Two Air Circus pilots, Slonnie Sloniger and Augie Pedlar, wanted to fly Miss Doran. A coin toss won Pedlar the job. In his memoirs, Sloniger referred to Pedlar as primarily a wingwalker who flew only occasionally, and had far fewer than the 200 hours required by race officials. Pedlar himself claimed an extensive flying background. Whether it was fact or fiction, he convinced race officials of his qualifications. Lieutenant Vilas “Cy” Knope was later appointed navigator.

Mildred, a schoolteacher, was the only woman to participate in the Dole race. The wisdom of the day questioned permitting a woman to fly, even as a passenger. Mildred shrugged off the issue, saying “A woman should fly just as easily as a man.… Women certainly have the courage and tenacity required for long flights.” On the hazards of the long flight over water, she told the Flint Journal: “Life is nothing but a chance.”

When asked about Mildred’s courage in making the flight, Pedlar recalled an incident at an airshow in Lansing. Sloniger told a crowd he was about to take his airplane up to 7,000 feet, shut down the engine, and land right on the spot where he was standing. “Who wants to go?” The crowd nervously backed away, leaving one diminutive figure in front of him. Sloniger chuckled. “All right. Come on, Mil.”

Reporters interviewed Mildred at every stop on the way to California. One reporter wrote, “But although she photographs remarkably well, it’s hard for a camera to suggest her wide hazel eyes and warm olive coloring or the dimple that comes with her infrequent smiles.” For the race, Mildred wore khaki jodhpurs and a tunic with a Sam Browne belt. The Lincoln Oils logo was embroidered on each arm. She sported a handful of fraternity pins sent by admiring college boys.

At noon on August 16, 1927, eight aircraft lined up at Oakland Field in front of 50,000 spectators. Two airplanes, Pabco Pacific Flyer and El Encanto, crashed on takeoff (with no casualties). Six airplanes took off, but three returned in minutes because of mechanical problems—including Miss Doran, its engine “sputtering like a Tin Lizzie.” Mechanics hurriedly replaced its spark plugs. Mildred, waiting nearby, was advised that Pedlar thought it best that she not come along for his second attempt. Still Mildred boarded. While some reporters wrote that Mildred looked ashen and in tears as she got on the airplane, a reporter/sorority sister who spoke to her while she waited wrote that Mildred said, “There’s no use making a fuss about it. You have to take things as they come.”

Of the eight aircraft that qualified, four set out for Honolulu. Art Goebel’s Woolaroc and Martin Jensen’s Aloha made it, but Golden Eagle and Miss Doran disappeared. Malloska offered $10,000 for Miss Doran’s recovery. The U.S. Navy searched for 12 days and found nothing. Ten aviators died—three preparing for the race, five during it, and two in the search for survivors.

Memorials and ceremonies were held in honor of those lost. In Flint, factories shut down for prayers. Flags flew at half mast. Thousands attended a memorial at San Francisco’s Pier 30. Another tribute was held at sea, aboard the SS Maui, and Mildred’s fifth grade students sent a floral arrangement with the inscription “God Bless You Every One.” Some 5,000 floral pieces were set afloat on the Pacific Ocean.

The Boston Daily Advertiser wrote: “When the spark has passed from the bodies of all who read these lines, admirers of valor and of noble spirit will be celebrating the name of Mildred Doran.” The Canadian province of Ontario named a lake in her honor. Among the tributes her family received was a poem by Marcel Ducout, a writer for L’Aérophile, the journal of the Aéro Club de France.

In 1929, Malloska had the Doran Tower constructed adjacent to Lincoln Field as a memorial to Mildred, vowing it would stand for 100 years. Next to the building was a large stone with a quote from Theodore Roosevelt: “Only those are fit to live who do not fear to die.” Malloska later sold his oil business to Cities Service Company (now Citgo). In 1932, Lincoln Field was bought by a developer and named Lincoln Manor Subdivision. The tower was moved and the plaque was lost. In 1973, the relocated tower was torn down because the owner could not afford municipal fees and taxes.

I wish Mildred had backed out when urged to do so. She would have had many other flying opportunities like the Dole race. And I would have gotten to know a very interesting aunt.


Single Page « Previous 1 2


 
Comments (8)

What a fantastic tribute to your aunt! As a writer, I appreciate your success in painting every detail of the story. Nice work!

Posted by Christine S. Lucas on January 27,2011 | 01:56 PM

to mr. durose: This is a story I've never heard - and the history of flight and the people involved in it have been intertwined on several occasions with my family.
My Mom worked at the Curtis-wright flying school, grosse Ile, Mi for 2yrs - 1926-1928. She had been taught about photography by her brother Walter who served in the 135th aero squadron in ww1 1917-1918 as a mechanic. She documented many famous fliers that came thru the doors during that time. Both were raised in Vassar, Mi.

What fascinated me about your story of your Aunt Mildred is I think I have a picture of her in Walter's album on the pages about his tour in France...I'd be glad to send to you.
The photo is not identified but with Flint and Vassar being close to each other....maybe they knew each other- he was a bbuilder in the mid michigan area born in 1895.

Posted by sally on January 29,2011 | 08:59 PM

Thanks, and so very much! I've waited for a story such as this for a long time, having researched Mildred Doran and the family through city directories, newspapers and the census.

Newspaper accounts from the time indicated very clearly that Mildred's disappearance traumatized the family.

What became of them? I know the mother passed away a few years before the flight and, if I recall correctly, the father died a few years after. They're buried side-by-side in Flint. Mildred and Helen also had two brothers; one was just a boy at the time--about Helen's age--and another was a college student, studying to become a lawyer.

If I'm not mistaken, the Doran home in Flint still stands; at least it did a few years ago when I last checked.

The Dole Race was a pyrrhic victory for Art Goebel, as you're doubtless aware. It was a tragedy for all involved.

As someone who once considered writing about this young woman, please tell us more!

Posted by mp on January 29,2011 | 02:43 AM

More information about Ms. Doran's life and local events brought about by her disappearance is available in two articles from the Flint Journal newspaper's website:

http://www.mlive.com/opinion/flint/index.ssf/2008/09/memorial_lost_just_like_air_pi.html

http://www.mlive.com/news/flint/index.ssf/2011/03/aunt.html#_login

Posted by John Schaefer on March 13,2011 | 05:35 PM

Mr. Durose, thank you for your article about the flying schoolmarm. I first heard of the events following my dad's passing in 2001 and found a newspaper clipping and some family photos of Mildred Doran. Until now information has been scarce.

James Malloska, it turns out my Great Uncle. As near as I can tell James was a brother Elizabeth Malloska (also recorded as Malfsky) who was married to Charles Tucker, my Great Grandfather.

I have some 300 digitized family photos from that era from a Curren and Beguhn photo album I borrowed from my aunt Mary. We know who some of the people are in the photos, but many are still a mystery. I'm not sure of any family connection, but I would be happy to share them with you. My grandfather, Charles Christopher Tucker died in 1937. My grandmother, Mildred Beguhn-Tucker passed when I was just a kid.

Ironically, I am an airline pilot.

Thanks. EDITORS' REPLY: If you'd like, we can send your email address on to Mr. Durose. Just let us know, either here or at editors@si.edu

Posted by Jeff Tucker on July 5,2011 | 03:17 PM

Just finished reading "Shooting Star". Appreciated the historical account - it filled in a lot of questions I had since childhood. Living in Grand Blanc, we all were acquainted with the tragic loss of Mildred, but had very little credible information about the tower. It continues to disappoint me about it's destruction. It certainly deserved Historical preservation status. It disappeared without much fanfare while I was away with the NAVY.
I have always been fascinated with flying and especially the history of flight.
Just a short personal note: On December 11,l941 some of us neighborhood preteens were hanging out at the airstrip west of the Baptist church in Whigville, MI when the shortwave broadcast of the attack on Pearl Harbor was announced. We were too young to be cynical,so we ran the mile and a half to our homes in Grand Blanc to tell our parents. The network newscasts didn"t carry the announcement until somewhat later. So, it was source of pride to be the first to know in G. B.

Joel F. Rosedahl
Grand Blanc,MI

Posted by Jorl F. Rosedahl, Grand Blanc,MI 48439 on October 26,2011 | 01:07 AM

Iam the Canadian connection to Mildred Doran. Mildred was born in Canada and moved to the US as a baby. She was my first cousin. My father (her uncle) was her fathers brother. I can remember my dad showing me pictures of Mildred and her plane. He would tell me about the Dole race. He was so proud of her. Over the years, it was not possible to find information about the race. Thanks to my cousin Richard the news is finally out and Mildred is getting some of the recognition she so deserves. Thank you Richard for bringing this story to the forefront.

Joyce (Doran) Cormier

Posted by Joyce Doran Cormier on May 3,2013 | 12:55 PM

Post a Comment


Name: (required)

Email: (required)

Comment:

Comments are moderated, and will not appear until Smithsonian.com has approved them. Smithsonian reserves the right not to post any comments that are unlawful, threatening, offensive, defamatory, invasive of a person's privacy, inappropriate, confidential or proprietary, political messages, product endorsements, or other content that might otherwise violate any laws or policies.



Advertisement


Advertisement


Follow Us

Snapshot

Refueling Angel Thunder

An airman pulls a fuel line in the desert as part of a massive interagency exercise.

Reader Scrapbook

Discovery's Tail-Cone Fitting

Check out our scrapbook of readers' aviation and space pictures. Then add your own.

Smithsonian Store

Smithsonian Journeys