In the 1930s, the Curtiss-Wright Flying Service awarded this C.M. Keys trophy to E.J. McKeon. While we do not know exactly which achievement earned it, we do know of daring pursuits by this early aviator.
After World War I, E.J. “Mickey” McKeon (1893-1963) of Dubuque served as an air mail pilot and chief pilot in the Curtiss-Wright Flying Service. In aviation, McKeon became known for an incident as the test pilot during multiple safety trials for ‘planechutes’ or parachutes to catch a plane if impaired. In 1929, near Tracy California, McKeon was testing a double planechute attached to each upper wing of a biplane created by Charles “Old Charlie” Broadwick of San Francisco. Broadwick was a pioneering parachutist, dedicated to aviation safety and inventor of the static line, still used by paratroopers today.
While flying at 5,000 feet, McKeon engaged the planechutes. Only one deployed, causing the plane to spin, wrapping it in the silk of the parachute. McKeon recounts the moment:
“The silk filtered out like one of those snake pills kids have on the Fourth of July. The ship settled slowly. Everything looked jake. I gave a cheer for Old Charlie…Then the ship started to spin to the right. I gave a look that way. Cripes! The second chute hadn’t released! I gave the handle another jerk- yanked the thing hard enough, it seemed to me, to pull it out by the roots.”
When that failed, McKeon tried to take control of the plane. He watched the altimeter counting down as he struggled with the silk wrapped around the controls. He decided that he had to jump and use his parachute pack. He untangled himself, climbed onto the wing, and jumped.
“To tell you the truth, I didn’t have much confidence in that chute on my back, after watching those big ones go flooey. However, I condescended to give it a chance . . . I gave her a yank. Nothing happened - except the ground got closer. I gave the ring another yank. Then – oh boy! The old bag of silk popped open . . . I was just getting wind of that tough break that Dame Misfortune had handed me, when I happened to look up.
Holy Moses! The ship was spinning right at me-following me like a dog! I grabbed an armful of ropes and me and my chute made the prettiest hook-slide you ever want to see.”
McKeon made it down safely, landing just 25 feet away from the plane that followed him, making his very first parachute jump a success. Explaining the impact of the landing he said, "You don't think I got a tough break out of it? The deuce I didn't. Ripped the seat out of my best pants when I slid down that wing." We can only wonder what feat won McKeon this trophy and whether he lost another pair of pants in the process.
McKeon’s full recollection of the event was re-printed in “Silks That Bloom in the Fall: A thrilling story of the air, in which a pilot risks his neck to test a ’chute” in the May 10th, 1930 edition of the Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune. The original article was copyrighted 1930 by EveryWeek Magazine. Article illustration by Joe King.