RUM-RUNNERS OF THE AIR PART 2

YESTERDAY, A 100-YEAR-OLD REPORT from The New York Times described “Flyers Who Ply Their Contraband Trade on Our Landward Borders and Our Coasts.” What writer Howard Mingos had in mind was adventurous pilots who aided, abetted, and sometimes took an active role in smuggling alcoholic beverages past government agents attempting to enforce Prohibition. Today in Part 2, we pay special attention to those in this last category: outright aerial smugglers of the stuff.

A Young Flyer’s Tale. Mingos recounts, “One of the youngest pilots in the country came out of the Southwest to buy himself a new machine or, rather another second-hand one. His proudest possession was a batch of newspaper clippings explaining that he was wanted by prohibition officials in Texas. He had been in a military school at the end of the war and had decided to create a few adventures on his own account.” 

“So,” Mingos said, “he happened upon a pilot recovering from an accident. The pilot practically gave the youngster his airplane. The youth taught himself to fly, and for a time tried to make a living barnstorming. He said that often he gave rides to a farmer and his entire family in exchange for a few days’ board and lodging.”

Image from “Barnstorming.”

Falling in with a Bad Crowd. “In San Antonio,” Mingos continued, “he fell in with a bootlegging outfit led by an ex-service pilot who was running a dozen machines across the border. In Mexico they exchanged explosives, bullets and money for the wicked concoctions the Mexicans sell as ‘hard liquor.’ Our hero was taken on.” 

His tale: “He was scheduled to make a trip one night, and, in fact, was crossing the border with the cargo when his gasoline supply gave out. Switching on his emergency tank he found that it had been plugged up, a deliberate attempt to bring him down. As he landed in the only available field there about, a village constable ran up to him and exclaimed, ‘I bin tipped off that you’re a bootlegger, and you gotta come with me!’ ”

Image from “Early Air Mail Snafus.”

“Not yet,” replied the pilot. “Do you see that green-painted tail there? Well, that means this is a mail plane, and if you so much as come too close to this machine I’ll have you arrested for obstructing the mails. Get me some gasoline.” 

“It worked,” Mingos said. “The constable drove his flivver into town and brought out the gasoline. The pilot took off just as a squad of prohibition agents rushed on the field.” It turned out the kid’s corrupt boss had plugged the tank to set him up as a diversion from the gang’s principal route. 

Geez, can no one be trusted?

An Ambitious -Spotter Turned -Runner. Mingos recounted a story of another pilot initially employed as a rum-spotter directing boats into secret havens. It was a good gig because, if questioned, the pilot could claim he was just flying around. 

“Recently,” Mingos said, “a pilot boasted that he was making three [rum-spotter] runs a week off Atlantic Highlands, N.J., for which he received $150 a trip. He was doing very nicely until he went into business on his own account, and undertook to bring a dozen cases ashore, all that his small craft would hold.” 

Duh…. “Once cast off from the schooner where he bought the stuff, he found he could not get into the air. The machine was overloaded. He spent the night taxiing into port. His plane was ruined and he was compelled to abandon it finally and swim ashore.” 

A Questionable Business Model. Mingos described another flyer who swapped coastal hazards for a Canadian route: The pilot “acquired a land machine not so many months ago, and endeavored to bring back a hundred quarts by way of Buffalo. Over Niagara Falls, his engine commenced skipping. Not liking the idea of landing in that populated region with such a cargo, the pilot reached back and commenced tossing overboard the precious bottles.”

“A moment after he had bade farewell to the last of his cargo,” Mingos recounted, “the motor commenced purring smoothly and regularly. What’s a man going to do against such odds?”

Indeed, and who needs revenuers? ds

© Dennis Simanaitis, SimanaitisSays.com, 2024