John Delach

On The Outside Looking In

Month: November, 2024

Mid-Twentieth Century Football Giants

One of the reasons I bought the Giants One Hundred Anniversary Book was that it included the top 100 players who wore the team’s uniforms. 

As I have previously stated, this football season, as terrible as our team is, celebrates the Giants 100th Anniversary of being part of the NFL. I attended my first Giants home game in 1961 at Yankee Stadium against the Los Angeles Rams. That gave me the opportunity to use my brand new 7×50 binoculars that my father had given to me when I visited him and his family at March AFB in Riverside, California that summer.

Having those binoculars gave me the opportunity to visually record the play-making abilities of  four-star players, quarterback Chalie Conerly, runner and receiver, Kyle Rote, kicker Pat Summerall and center, Ray Wietecha, all of whom would retire at the end of that season.

Y.A. Tittle, was the Giants starting quarterback, but that Sunday, his passing was ineffective. Head coach. Allie Sherman, replaced Y.A. with the Giants long-time starting OB, Charlie Conerly, who responded by completing a touchdown pass to Kyle Rote in the end zone behind the Yankee dugout to give the Giants the lead that they never relinquished. Amazingly, Rote made that catch exactly in front of where my friend, Jimmy Pace and I were sitting.

I had been introduced to the power of witnessing all aspects of professional football, close-up and in person. OMG, the beauty, the intensity, the sounds, profanity, tough-talk, baiting and the pain; the struggle in the pits where linemen collide, winners prevail by overwhelming their opponents. The men who make-up the defensive line know when their opponents mentally give up. Offensive players know the same thing when their opponents quit.

Vince Lombardi said it best, “ Fatigue makes cowards of us all.”         

The following year, when I first purchased my season ticket, I was assigned a Box Seat in Section 12 about five rows from the playing field behind the baseball visitor’s dugout on the side of the end zone at the closed end of Yankee Stadium.

In my first two seasons, 1962 and 1963, I did get to see 19 stars who were members of teams that played for the Giants from 1956 to 1963, the team’s mid-century glory years. During that eight-year period, the Giants won a World Championship in 1956 over the Chicago Bears. They also were division champions five times, but lost the championship games, twice to the Baltimore Colts in 1958 and 1959, twice to the Green Bay Packers in 1961 and 1962 and once to the Chicago Bears in 1963.

The linemen who were included in the Giants top 100 players were Roosevelt Brown, Andy Robustelli, Jim Katcavage, Roosevelt Grier, Jack Stroud, Greg Larson, Dick Modzelewski, Ray Wietecha and Darrell Dess.

Running backs, quarterbacks and receivers included Charlie Conerly, Frank Gifford, Y.A, Tittle, Del Shofner, Joe Morrison, Alex Webster and Aaron Thomas.

Linebackers and Defensive backs like, Sam Huff, Jimmy Patton, Dick Lynch and Erich Barnes.

This list doesn’t include Lawrence (L.T.) Taylor, voted the Giants best player of all-time because he didn’t join the Giants until 1981.

My only disappointment was missing out on seeing Emlen Tunnell, the team’s world class defensive back who was traded to the Green Bay Packers in 1958 after having played nine years with Big Blue.

Brief thoughts on some of my heroes:

Charlie Conerly: WWII Veteran, stone-cut face would have been the perfect Marlboro man except, he hated horses.

Kyle Rote: Fan favorite. Many guys have his name because their fathers adored him.

Y.A. Tittle, YAT, for short had three fabulous years with Big Blue after the 49ers traded him ending his long career in San Francisco. He set the record for most TDs in 1962 with 32 and 36 in 1963.

Rosy Brown was the ultimate offensive tackle in the NFL. A man of peace who, for most of his career lined up against Ernie Stautner who hated the Giants for cutting him in training camp. Brown held his own against Stautner but took a beating.

When Stautner retired, he became the Steelers line coach and taught his replacement all of his dirty moves. First time vs the Giants, less than a quarter into the game, Rosy stepped back after an ugly play and punched the replacement kid right in the face.

Rosy was thrown out of the game. a first and only time in his long career. When his coach asked for an explanation, Rosy replied: “I took that shit form Stautner for too many years, I’ll be damned if I’ll take that from a rookie.”

In 1958 Summerall kicked a 48-yard field goal to beat the Cleveland Browns. When he ran to the sidelines, Lombardi grabbed him and shouted: “You know you can’t kick it that far.” When he  retired, he became a world-class announcer and a world class drunk. Fortunately, he beat the booze.  

Sam Huff was a fan favorite. When the stadium crowd shouted the chant, they invented: DEEfense, DEEfense, DEEfense, it was for Sam, our hero.

When he was traded to the Redskins, we, the faithful, lost any and all affection for, Allie Sherman, the Giants coach who engineered the trade. Our new chant became: “Goodbye Allie, Goodbye Allie, Goodbye Allie, we hate to see you go.” to the sound of “Goodnight, Ladies.”

It took a night exhibition game in Montreal where the local fans sang this chant in French to convince Wellington Mara to fire Coach Sherman…and so it goes.

Dear Readers, let me wish each of you a happy Thanksgiving that I hope you can enjoy with those you love.    

On the Outside Looking In will not publish next week, but I expect to return on Wednesday, December 4th.

How Port Washington Gave Birth to Pan Am’s Transatlantic Operations: Part Two

Denise Duffy Meehan

Edited by John Delach

November 2024

(In 1937,) Pan American World Airways proved that commercial aircraft crossing the Atlantic on a scheduled basis was now feasible. That understanding encompassed Port Washington and fifteen hundred watched the return of Clipper III from Southampton, England to Port. 

Still, those that would make money on the routes had a long way to go. Aircraft capable of making the crossing was a priority. The Sikorsky S-42B, used to pioneer the northern and then the southern Atlantic was inadequate for the task. It had required 2,300 gallons of fuel, 160 gallons of oil  and 1,995 pounds of spare equipment to make the first survey. While nothing was spared operationally, little in the way of amenities was provided for the crew. Their meals consisted of celery, olives, soup, salad and strawberries. And, while the high cruising altitude with open windows to aid in celestial navigation (at times 11,000 feet) required heavy outer garments, the flight suits were not fur-lined as reported.

After proving that it could be done, Pan American set out to get aircraft to make it all feasible. In 1938, Europeans did fly surveys over the Atlantic, and boats representing Air France and Lufthansa utilized the Port Washington facility. Finally, on March 3, 1939 technology caught up to reality  when Mrs. Roosevelt christened the “Yankee Clipper,” a Boeing B-314. She was taken on a shakedown flight from Baltimore, over the southern route to Marseilles arriving on March 3 and along the northern route between Baltimore and Southampton on March 28.

The first transatlantic airmail departed from Port Washington on May 20 returning on May 27. The first revenue passengers departed from Port Washington for Marseilles June 28, 1939. Thereafter, weekly service over northern and southern routes was routine from April through November. Eventually, four B-314 flying boats served on the routes.

The airship had come a long way in comfort. Constructed at a time when industrial designers had come into their own the interior of the Boeing was a crossbreed between a gentlemen’s parlor and a chrome environment. There was room for a crew of 12 and about 34 passengers. The bulk of these being the well-to-do with enough to do the daring. A large lounge and sleeping bunks were some of the finer features, features that ironically still turn up in the first-class sections of aircraft today.

While the boats, as they were floated into the landing docks were impressive, the spit and polish of the crew taking over their craft at the first bell, then boarding passengers at two bells, was dramatic. However, the reality of the Port Washington base was disappointing. What would resemble a third world airport today housed facilities such as Customs, Immigration and Public Health, along with the operation division of the airline.

The “terminal” was modest with few amenities. But, this, after all was just a temporary headquarters. Condos would soon be all that stands where aviation once was grand.

 (This planned development never saw fruition. World War II and the cold war prolonged Port Washington’s role in aviation. Grumman had a plant there during World War II as did Republic during the Korean War. Post war utilization by Thypin Steel, an importer, followed and by the time they left the property in the early 1980s, the site was deemed thoroughly polluted and uninhabitable and too poisonous to ever support condominiums.)

The writing had been on the wall, or more correctly on the lease, for a permanent home even before the first transatlantic passengers ever departed Port Washington. On May 20th  Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia and Pan American chairman, C.V. Whitney had signed a lease for an airport at North Beach. Today, we know it as the Marine Air Terminal at LaGuardia Airport. Ironically, after more than 40 years, Pan American returned to that terminal basing its northeastern shuttle operation there.

Port Washington’s place in aviation history did not end in March of 1940 when the boats left town. Grumman operated Plant 15 there from April 1942 until the end of the war ) making parts for the navy’s TPF Avengers, that carry a torpedo or bombs.) The company even provided a 12-inch reinforced concrete road, now called Sintsink Drive, which was bombproof, making it possible to move materials after an enemy attack. Republic Aviation took over the facilities during the Korean War, manufacturing wings for F-84 jet fighters there.

Soon enough, perhaps only the concrete road and a commemorative plaque at the Town Dock will be all that is left of Port Washington’s aviation claim to fame.

Editor’s note:

MS Denise Duffy Meehan ended her piece by thanking William M. Masland then living in nearby Manhasset for all of insight he gave to her in writing her piece. Masland was the navigator on the first transatlantic survey in 1937. He eventually became a Captain of the Flying Boats himself and, when the US Navy requisitioned all of Pan American’s Flying Boats after Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, Masland went on to become a Commander in the Naval Reserve, a position he would hold until he retired in 1962.

He wrote a book about his history and experience with Pan American Flying Boats called “Through the Back Doors of the World in a Ship That Had Wings,” a title, only an engineer would love. His book originally sold for $14.95. Today, if you can find a volume, expect to pay  the market value. for example, it cost me $94.00 plus shipping and handling. (I asked my family to buy it for their eighty-year-old father for Christmas.)                             

How Port Washington Gave Birth to Pan Am’s Transatlantic Operations: Part One

The article I am about to present was written by Denise Duffy Meehan for a publication called, Good Living. I have had an aviation love of Pan American’s Flying Boats and everything about them since I was a child. My godfather flew for Pan American starting as a flight engineer on the Boeing B-314s and retiring as a pilot flying the Boeing 747. Being paid to fly doesn’t get better than that.

One of the facts that enhances my attraction to these fabulous machines is how brief a period their careers spanned. The entire reason for their existence was due to the fact that when the routes across the Atlantic and the Pacific were first proposed, Pan American faced major gaps in land-based airports large enough to support these giants especially, runways long enough for take-offs and landings. By the end of World War II, these gaps had mostly disappeared and large land-planes were soon available to enter service.    

Port Washington isn’t exactly an international destination. Yet there was a time, some 50 years ago ( now 87 years) when this bay community was aviation’s eastern gateway to America.

It all began in 1937, when a fledging airline with grand ideas, Pan American World Airways, determined to conquer the North Atlantic, as it had the Pacific, the Caribbean and the eastern coast of South America to Brazil.

Port Washington was chosen as the eastern terminus of the circuitous route that included New Brunswick, Newfoundland, Ireland and finally, Southampton, England. Why it was chosen was a combination of geographical merit and available resources.

The airships that challenged “The Pond” were called flying boats because, in a sense, they were. As water-bound as tadpoles, (they were giant forerunners of today’s seaplanes) the boats required long stretches of smooth water to get aloft. So, the shelter of Port Washington’s Manhasset Bay and the expanse of the Sound beyond Plum Point gave Port Washington a leg up on other waterfront communities in the race for the international sea-airport.

But it was the seaplane facilities of the American Aeronautical Company, manufacturers of the Savoia Marchetti airplane that sealed the deal. The company had constructed a waterside facility in 1929 – operating it as a test base for its S-55 and S-56 aircraft (available for a mere $7,373 fly-a-way) and as a rental hanger / ramp called the New York Seaplane Airport. Pan Am purchased the 12-acre parcel in 1933, intending to use the large hanger for storage while continuing to lease space in the smaller buildings to private seaplane operators.

In 1936, this small hanger made a minor stand in aviation history by hosting two German flying boats exploring the airspace over the Atlantic. The Aclous and the Zepher were distinctive as they were the only aircraft of the class to be launched via catapult from a mothership, the “Westfalan.”

No doubt this German effort and other great aviation rivalries added to the zeal with which the Pan Am base was fitted for the U.S. Airline’s own surveys. (Survey was the official term used to describe the testing of heretofore uncharted air routes.) Announcements of the upgrade to over-ocean airbase was made April 2, 1937. On June 18, Pan Am’s first commercial passengers to be flown over the northern Atlantic were carried from Port Washington to Bermuda. In order to gain landing rights in Crown territories, the U.S. agreed to permit Imperial Airways, the British Precursor to BOAC and later British Airways to land in Port Washington.

Icing conditions forced the airlines to relocate Bermuda service to Baltimore the following November. Weekly service from Port Washington resumed April, 1938 and again in 1939. Rates to Bermuda in June of 1938 including air, hotel and meals were $172 per person for seven days and $262 for 16 days in Depression dollars, this translated into a tariff that only the patricians could afford.

When it came time to chart the vast ocean that until then only daredevils as Linberg, Wrong Way Corrigan and Beryl Markham had flown, it was predetermined that surveys would be done reciprocally. Pam Am would depart Port Washington on July 3, 1937 in its Clipper III, with Captain Harold Gray and a crew of seven aboard at the same time Imperial Airways “Caledonia” with Captain Wilcockson in command, left Southampton, England for Port.

All backers (Imperial was not only flying for the Crown but also France and Germany) would share their results and the unwritten rule was that all glory would get equal pay. So, even though the Pan Am boat reached European landfall on target and within six minutes of its estimated arrival time and Caledonia missed Newfoundland altogether and had to backtrack, arriving one and a half hours late, the press gave them equal standing.

While this example of one upmanship is dear to the hearts of the crew who flew her, other aspects of the 15-day, 7,000-mile Clipper III flight interest historians. Among them are the fact the first airline weather map made for the North Atlantic was utilized and the first “commercial’ aircraft siting of an ice berg was reported to the U.S. Coast Guard.

Even though Captain Gray responded to the Irish press that the trip “was a nice little joyride,” it was hardly a lark. Navigation prowness and extreme vigilance accounted for dead-on landfall at the River Shannon, but it was strong nerve that actually got the crew there.

Being the 11th aircraft to succeed after 86 attempts to cross the Atlantic was less important than the other points the survey set out to prove. As one newspaper reporter put it, Pan Am proved that crossing the Atlantic was out of the realm of stunt flying and within the grasp of commercial aviation. And that grasp encompassed Port Washington. Fifteen hundred spectators turned out to greet the Clipper on her return home.           

Lassie Come Home

Ruddell Bird “Rudd” Weatherwax and his son, Bob Weatherwax introduced the American public to collies, here-to-for, a virtually unknown breed of pure-bred dogs. This heroic story about a boy and his dog first came to life with a best-selling English novel, “Lassie Come Home”, written by Eric Knight that Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer bought the rights to in 1943. The movie starred Roddy McDowall who played Joe Carraclough, the Yorkshire school boy who loved Lassie and Elizabeth Taylor, who played Priscilla, a  young girl sympathetic to Lassie’s plight.

The film supposedly set in England and Scotland was actually filmed in Washington and Monterey, California. During production, those MGM executives who previewed the dallies were so moved that they ordered more scenes added to “This wonderful motion picture.”

A female collie was selected for the title role, but she began to shed excessively when called upon to perform. Fred M. Wilcox, the director approached the trainer, Rudd Weatherwax, who agreed to substitute his male collie, Pal, to play Lassie. Being a male, Pal was bigger and looked more impressive. Mr. Wilcox decided to cast Pal because when he performed he expressed  human emotions and reactions. Pal performed beyond expectation in the most dramatic scene of the film, crossing a dangerous rapid to continue Lassie’s way home. After seeing the first prints, MGM’s chairman stated, “Pal had entered the water, but Lassie had come out, and a new star was born.”

While Pal became a star, Weatherwax received all rights to the Lassie name and trademark in lieu of back pay owed him by MGM.

Set in Depression-era Yorkshire, England, Mr. and Mrs. Carraclough were forced to sell their collie, Lassie, to the rich Duke of Ruding. The duke took Lassie to his home in distant Scotland. His Granddaughter, Priscilla, (Elizabeth Taylor) sensed the dog’s unhappiness and arranged for her escape.

Imagine all of the perils Lassie encountered on her long trek home, dog catchers, violent storms and the rapids. She also met kind people who offered her aid and comfort. Lassie finally returned to her favorite resting place in Joe’s schoolyard where she was reunited with the boy she loved.

Budgeted for $666,000, it made $4,517,000 at the world-wide box office.,

Of course, a dog movie this successful initiated re-makes. One of the most successful was: “Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey.” Released fifty years later, this movie featured three pets wrongfully separated from their family. The old member of the group, a Golden Retriever named “Shadow” voiced by Don Ameche, a cat named Sassy, voiced by Sally Field and, Chance,  a free-spirited American Bulldog voiced by Michael J. Fox who narrated the movie.

The film received positive reviews with the consensus stating, “Disney’s re-make of ‘Lassie Come Home’ successfully replicates, and in some ways improves upon, the simple charms of the original.”  The movie Made $57,000,000.

One of this trainer’s secrets in continuing the successful continuation of the Lassie brand was using several collies to play the part. To accomplish this, they bred thousands of collies to produce Lassies, each with a distinctive white blaze down their snouts. But only one Lassie at a time appeared onscreen or at public events. 

Rudd Weatherwax went on to train collies for the Lassie TV show that ran from 1954 to 1974. He also trained other dogs like the one who played Spike in the film, “Old Yellow” and the New York Mets first official mascot, a beagle named Homer.

Bob Weatherwax became his father’s apprentice. He learned the interdisciplinarian roles needed to manage the Lassie brand. These included being the dog’s talent agent, pooch geneticist and acting coach.

Rudd died in 1985 and Bob Weatherwax embraced his Talent-manager role including traveling First-Class with his celebrity dog. “On a trip to promote the 1994 movie ‘Lassie,’ a successful attempt to revive the franchise, he and the film’s star stayed at the luxurious Rittenhouse Hotel where the celebrity collie dined on boiled chicken prepared by the chef and delivered by room service and washed down with distilled water.”

Bob’s bond with Lassie was enhanced when the collie saved his own life.

“When I was a toddler, my parents couldn’t afford a fence in the yard. They tethered me to a tree to prevent me from running off. I quickly learned how to free myself by unhooking the harness and, one day I decided to take off and explore the great big world beyond the tree.”

He wound up in the middle of the busy street in front of his house.

Pal, a.k.a. Lassie, “saw me and sensed that I was in danger and within seconds our famous collie was running toward me.”

The collie barked and nudged him back toward the yard.

“Lassie not only saved lives on the screen,” he wrote, “but also saved me in real life.”