There's no doubt about it. Roscoe Turner personified the golden age of flight-that era in American history when the barnstormers pioneered America's skies and the racers flew ever faster machines designed by backyard mechanics. He was the most flamboyant and memorable of them all, with his self-designed uniform, spiked mustache, Hollywood smile and pet lion named Gilmore. He was a product of World War I, an aerial stuntman and self-taught freelance pilot who won the Bendix Trophy once, the Harmon Trophy twice and the Thompson Trophy three times. He was truly one of a kind.

Turner was born on September 29, 1895, the first of six surviving children of a farm couple in Corinth, Alcorn County, in the northeast corner of Mississippi. The Turner family's main source of income was the cotton, corn, soybeans, sweet potatoes and peanuts they grew. They also raised cows, hogs and chickens.

Turner had no desire to be a farmer. Instead he yearned to work with tools and machinery. He attended the one-room school in Corinth and went as far as he could go there-the 10th grade. He "graduated" when the teacher said he had completed the work. He attended a business school in Corinth briefly but became obsessed with automobiles, much to his father's disappointment.
Turner then went to Memphis and became a truck driver. Before applying for the job, he developed a personal philosophy of conduct that he followed thereafter. "If you wanted to be noticed," he wrote later, "you had to act confidently and put up a good front. This did not mean lying. You also had to be good at what you did. And I realized that you also had to dress the part. I really wanted that job and spent my last $5 for a new pair of khaki trousers, shirt and cap. I will always think that looking like a young man who took care of his appearance and their equipment would be good for their business." That attention to his general appearance stayed with him for the rest of his life.

Turner spent several years in Memphis; he left the trucking job, worked in a garage, chauffeured for a wealthy couple, and became a car salesman. He had his first look at an Army airplane in 1916 and decided to become a pilot. He applied for flight training but was turned down because he had no college education. Nevertheless, his driving and mechanical experience would be useful to the Army when the United States declared war on Germany in April 1917. The following month, Turner enlisted as an ambulance driver. When he completed his driver training he was promoted to sergeant and assigned to an ambulance company.

But Turner's heart remained set on flying. When the education requirements were lowered, he again applied for pilot training and was accepted for training as a balloon observer. He completed the training, was commissioned a second lieutenant and was transferred to France in September. He didn't see any action but remained in the Army of occupation in Germany until July 1919. He returned to the United States a first lieutenant and was discharged in September.

During his service in Europe, Turner received some unofficial flying lessons from fellow flying officers. He teamed up with Lieutenant Harry J. Runser, an Army-trained pilot who had bought a Canadian-built Jenny. The pair started a flying circus, with Turner doing the wing-walking and parachuting. They put on their first airshow in North Carolina in October 1919.

In a magazine article published many years later, Runser recalled: "In those days, every city and town in the east wanted to see the airplanes and the stunts we barnstormers performed in them. I climbed, did nose-dives, rolls, loops and tail-spins, and my wing-walker did breath-taking wing-walking stunts between and on the wings. I also took people up in the trainer for a fifteen minute ride for $15. In those days, a fair wasn't a fair, a circus wasn't a circus, and a carnival a carnival without an airplane. For several years it was an exciting and lucrative business."

When they began flying together, Runser and Turner wore their army uniforms. Finally, when the uniforms were almost-threadbare, they had new ones made to their own specifications. For the rest of his active flying career, Turner would wear a self-designed uniform decorated with a pair of diamondstudded wings bearing the initials "fiT" in the center. The uniform that became Turner's trademark consisted of a beige, officer-style cap, sky-blue tunic, fawn-colored cavalry-twill jodhpurs and highly polished riding boots. He often topped this off with a Sam Browne belt that was later replaced by one with a large buckle of his own design. A mustache waxed into needle points became his facial trademark, setting off his ruddy face and framing what he called his "stage smile."

Turner turning on the charm at the entrance to his Boeing 247 in 1934

The Runser-Turner barnstorming partnership flourished as they traveled from town to town throughout the eastern part of the county in the early 1920s. They bought a British-made Avro that could seat two passengers in the front seat. The pair tried out new ways to advertise their "death-defying" shows-dropping circulars, delivering newspapers by air, taking prominent citizens for their first airplane rides, giving talks at civic club dinners, and briefly launching a newspaper called the Columbia Air Messenger. As competition with other barnstormers increased, Turner performed ever more daring stunts that gained the flying circus continuing press attention everywhere it went. When the Avro was damaged, they acquired a Jenny to replace it in September 1921. They then headed west for shows in Turner's hometown of Corinth, Miss., and in Memphis.

In Memphis the partnership reached an unplanned climax. Turner performed his usual wing-hanging act and parachute jump; then, for added spectator excitement, Runser deliberately crashed the Jenny into a house constructed on the fair grounds, possibly one of the first times this was attempted. Runser was unhurt, but the Jenny was wrecked. Turner returned to Columbia, S.C., where they had decided to establish their base to await the next show season. Runser' returned to his home in Fort Wayne, Ind.

Trouble loomed on January 24, 1922. While they had been heading toward Memphis, federal authorities had been conducting an investigation in Savannah, Ga. The Jenny they had acquired had been bought from Sergeant John L. McCoy, an enlisted Marine pilot who had flown the Jenny from his base at Paths Island, S.C. He had sold the Jenny to the pair for $300 with a promise of an additional $300 later. McCoy returned to his base and claimed he had made a forced landing in a swamp in Georgia and the plane had vanished. McCoy's story did not check out, so the Marine Corps and the Department of Justice launched an investigation. Federal agents arrested Turner in Columbia and Hunser in Fort Wayne, charged them with conspiracy and receiving government property, and shipped them to Savannah. McCoy was held for a court-martial.

Interviewed in jail, Turner admitted that he and Runser had bought the plane from McCoy, assuming that he was the proper owner. Turner told the reporter, 'We concealed nothing. We operated the plane in this vicinity without any fear. Doesn't it seem logical to you that if we had any knowledge that the plane was stolen we would have hopped off to the other coast and not given exhibitions throughout the south?"

Turner continued to maintain his innocence. But without legal counsel he took the advice of the U.S. assistant district attorney and pleaded guilty to charges of conspiracy and receiving government property, relying on the leniency of the court. Runser did the same, and both were fined $50 and sentenced on February 24, 1922, to serve a year and a day in the federal penitentiary at Atlanta. McCoy was found guilty of wrongfully selling government property and was sentenced to be dishonorably discharged and imprisoned for five years.

Turner and Runser received paroles on July 27, 1922, and went their separate ways. Later, Turner applied for-and in August 1924 was granted-a "full and unconditional pardon" by President Calvin Coolidge. Runser was not pardoned. Runser eventually started a flying school in Illinois and a charter service in Ohio. Turner returned to Corinth and opened an auto repair shop. But he was determined to continue flying. He had accumulated many hours of stick time flying with Runser and felt increasingly confident of his flying ability. He obtained a Jenny, patched it up and began flying it from a local pasture. He took passengers for rides and teamed up with a wing-walker named Arthur H. Starnes. They staged their first airshow at Corinth just before Christmas 1922.

About that time, S.H. Curlee, a Corinthian clothier who had become a millionaire and moved his business to St. Louis, hired Turner to fly his salesmen to distant towns and to advertise Curlee clothes. Curlee financed the purchase of a French-made four-passenger Bréguet and an OX Standard. Establishing a base in the Sheffield, Thscumbia and Muscle Shoals area of Alabama, Turner continued barnstorming while flying for Curlee. Starnes left him at the end of the 1923 season. Turner then hired another stunt man, J.W. "Bugs" Fisher.

Meanwhile, in Corinth, Turner had met Carline Stovall, whom he married on September 29, 1924, his 29th birthday. Standing in the cockpit of a Jenny, the pair exchanged vows while the minister stood precariously on the lower wing. Continuing to fly at airshows in good weather, Turner began reaching out for other aviation ventures. He started a flying school at Gusmus, Ala., and formed Roscoe Turner Airways, proposing to fly the mail on the Chicago-Birmingham route. But he was turned down by the Post Office Department because of insufficient financial backing. Meanwhile, he met Igor Sikorsky, a Russian-born aircraft designer who had come to the United States in 1919 and formed a company to manufacture large commercial transports. Sikorsky had built the twin engine S-29A (A for America), the largest commercial plane in the country at the time. Operated by the pilot from an open cockpit in the rear fuselage, it could carry 14 passengers in an enclosed cabin.

Sikorsky flew it more than 200 times on demonstration flights, but he found no buyers until Turner came along. Turner saw the plane as a chance to sell his services for advertising and charter flights. He bought it from Sikorsky for a reported $10,000 borrowed from backers. He also saw it as an opportunity for Roscoe Turner Airways to provide airline service between New York and Atlanta. He used the Sikorsky to gain airline backers, while using the Bréguet for sightseeing. During this busy time, Turner advertised the latest fashions for an Atlanta department store, made the S-29A into a "Flying Cigar Store," flew various civic groups to meetings, and continued to transport Curlee salesmen to their territories in the northeast. While putting on a good front for the newspapers, Turner was continually in debt. Impatient about money matters, he always acknowledged letters requesting payment and made small reimbursements whenever he could or wherever a creditor became especially adamant.

Turner moved to Richmond, Va., in 1927, and established the T.R. Flying Service. The facility was what is now called a fixed-base operation, with mechanics available for transients and planes for hire for instruction, charter or sightseeing. As field manager and president of the airfield association, played host to many national personalities who came to Richmond, including Will Rogers, whom he piloted on the first cross-country flight the famous comedian ever made.Turner was invited to speak at luncheons and dinners. He advocated the building of airports, encouraged the development of airlines, and made predictions of things to come.

An inveterate letter writer, Turner contacted many large corporations, urging them to engage him to advertise their products with the S-29A. He made overtures, for example, to advertise Life Savers for the Curtis Co. He also contacted Frigidaire, R.H. Macy Co., Champion Spark Plugs, and William Randolph Hearst's newspapers. Unfortunately, few accepted his offers at the time.

The opportunity of a lifetime was presented unexpectedly by a brash young movie producer named Howard Hughes, who was financing an epic World War I film called Hell's Angels. The final scene was to be the downing of a German Gotha bomber by Allied fighters. The film was
to end with the giant plane spinning to a fiery crash as a symbol of the Allied victory over the Germans. No genuine Gothas could be found, so Hughes, persuaded by his staging advisers that Turner's S-29A could be modified to look like one, drew up a lease agreement, and Turner agreed to fly the S-29A during the filming. Turner flew with Carline as his "navigatrix" to Los Angeles, where they were treated to a blast of publicity. The Sikorsky was painted in German war colors, outfitted with machine guns, and touted by Hughes publicists as a real German Gotha. Hughes hired 70 pilots and accumulated 80 planes of either 1914-18 vintage or painted to look like former Allied and German aircraft. There were engine failures, accidents and forced landings; four men were killed during the filming, and Hughes himself had a bad accident.
Turner flew the Sikorsky in a number of scenes, but one final tragedy cost him his airplane. Hughes had asked him to spin the plane to simulate the start of its descent to destruction. Turner refused to put the aging Sikorsky into a spin without having it inspected by a qualified mechanic, which meant delaying the scene about a week.

Hughes was furious. While Turner was away from the field, the moviemaker offered another pilot, who had never flown the S-29A, $1,000 if he would spin it. A mechanic was offered a $100 bonus to ride in the cabin and set off smoke equipment to simulate a burning plane. The aircraft was to pull out of the spin and fly out of sight behind a hill while ground explosions were set off to simulate its crash. The two climbed aboard, and after the pilot put it into a mild spin, he thought the wing was breaking and leaped from the open cockpit while shouting to the mechanic in the closed passenger cabin to jump. He didn't. The plane smashed into the ground with the man aboard. After an investigation, the pilot was fined and had his license suspended for three months. The accident put Turner out of business. The film, begun in 1927, was not released until 1930.

Following the London to Melbourne race in 1934, Roscoe Turner is flanked by his radio operator Reeder Nichols and co-pilot Clyde Panghorn.

Meanwhile, Turner had made many friends among the Hollywood movie stars and had given some of them flying lessons. He had taken many others, who had not flown before, on sightseeing flights. The stars always had publicity photos taken with the ever-smiling Turner, who certainly did not object because "it was good for business."

Turner visited the local aircraft manufacturers and sought jobs, which included flying mining speculators over mountainous areas looking for possible mineral deposits, and taking parachute jumpers to try to set altitude records. A parachute manufacturer hired Turner to test a parachute that could be released from the plane's wing, if an engine failed in flight, and thus allow the plane to descend softly to earth. Turner performed the test in the spring of 1929 with a plane weighing 2,400 pounds. It dropped to a hard landing, but Turner was unhurt.

Then Turner became interested in the sleek Lockheed Vega and was hired as a chief pilot for Nevada Airlines, which he called "the fastest airline in the world." The airline flew a route from Los Angeles to Reno. It soon became known as the "alimony special," or "matrimony special," depending on a passenger's reasons for wanting to escape California's stiffer marriage and divorce laws. His infatuation with the speedy Lockheeds led to his attempt to fly a Vega coast-to-coast to break the records set in both directions by Frank Hawks. Turner didn't break either record, but he was the first to cross the continent with passengers in less than 24 hours.

Nevada Airlines folded because the four passenger Vegas could not make money except with high fares. Turner, however, had made friends with the governors of Nevada and California, and both appointed him to their personal staffs with the rank of "colonel" in 1929. From that time on, Turner began using the title of "colonel" in his publicity and correspondence.

Turner wanted a Lockheed of his own. He persuaded Earl R. Gilmore, president of Gilmore Oil Co., to buy a Lockheed Air Express so that he could advertise the company's Red Lion petroleum products. The company's lion's head trademark led to the plane's being christened Gilmore Lion by a movie starlet, and Turner was off to set records and enter races.

The first race was for a money prize offered by Vincent Bendix to the pilots who flew from Los Angeles to Cleveland for the 1929 National Air Races in the shortest time. (He later offered the Bendix Trophy, which became one of the two most prestigious national air race prizes.) Turner placed third in the 1929 race. He next entered a closed-course race and placed second, winning $375.

Turner's knack for self-promotion continued to pay off. He now adopted a real lion cub, who he named Gilmore after his sponsor. For the next year or so, Gilmore flew everywhere with Turner, which naturally resulted in even more press coverage. To satisfy the Humane Society, Turner outfitted Gilinore with a parachute. As he grew, two larger parachutes were made. Gilmore escorted Turner to the leading hotels, where Turner insisted on registering as "Roscoe Turner and Gilmore." Many hotels gave them free lodging because the photogenic pair always generated favorable publicity during their visits. When asked about their close relationship, Turner replied that he preferred the company of Gilmore because: "It's much safer. He never gets me into any trouble. He's always good company and always in a good humor."

Intent on keeping his name in the news and in the record books, Turner set a new east-west record in 1930 with Gilmore aboard, and then another speed mark between Vancouver, Canada, and Agua Caliente, Mexico. Gilmore got most of the press attention. Turner set other point-to-point records, but when Gilmore passed the 150 pound mark, the pilot had to leave him at home. The lion was placed on a California animal farm, and Turner paid for his upkeep until he died in 1952 at the grand old lion age of 22.

During this period, Turner hired a mechanic named Don Young, who helped him through some difficult flying experiences. Young saved Turner's life on several occasions by persuading him not to fly when he believed a plane was unsafe. Young soon discovered that Turner was a sleepwalker, often talked in his sleep, and had frequent nightmares about flying.

Turner always wore two wristwatches and carried a pocket watch as a spare. He never wanted to eat on long flights; however, when he wasn't flying, he had a fabulous appetite, with fried catfish his favorite seafood dish. He never talked about religion, but read the Bible every night before going to sleep. He attributed his survival to "somebody up there" who continually watched over him.

The 1931 National Air Races ushered in a new era for high-speed aircraft, most of them manufactured by "eyeball mechanics" with little formal education but a lot of intuition about building racing planes. Jimmy Wedell, a pilot from Louisiana, was one of those. He began to set records and win prizes in 1929, and Turner was impressed.

Turner ordered a Wedell-Williams racer for the 1932 Bendix from Burbank to Cleveland and placed third, for a prize of $2,250. He promptly entered the Thompson Trophy race and the Shell Speed Dashes, placing third in each. Turner then returned to Los Angeles and set a quick round-trip record for Los Angeles-San Francisco, followed by a New York-Burbank record of 12 hours 33 minutes. He entered the 1933 Bendix race and won it in the record time of 11 hours, 30 minutes, taking home $5,050. He next entered the Thompson race and thought he had won it, only to be disqualified for cutting a pylon and not circling it before proceeding to the next one. Turner had a more powerful engine installed in his Wedell and set a Los Angeles-New York speed record in September 1933; he held both transcontinental speed marks.
Turner wanted to enter the 1934 Bendix race, but a fuel leak could not be repaired by the deadline. However, he flew to New York and shaved about five minutes off his previous west-east time. He returned to Cleveland to enter the Thompson race and won the first prize of $4,500.

Soon after the 1934 races, Turner completed negotiations he had begun several months before with the Boeing Co., United Airlines, and Pratt & Whitney to borrow a new Boeing 247D airliner and enter the MacRobertson London-to-Melbourne Race that was to begin on October 20, 1934. There were two categories of entries, a speed category and a handicap classification. The winner of the speed category would collect the equivalent of $15,000. The first prize in the handicap category would be $10,000.

Turner hired Clyde Pangborn, already famous as a barnstormer and first to fly the Pacific nonstop, as his copilot. Reeder Nichols was borrowed as a radio operator from William Lear, inventor of the first practical radio direction finder. Their major competitors included Jackie Cochran, flying a Granville-built single-engine plane; two British pilots in a de Havilland DH-88 Comet; and a KLM cress flying a Douglas DC-2 with passengers. After many difficulties getting financial support, passports, transporting the plane to England and satisfying the judges about fuel capacity, Turner, Pangborn and Nichols departed Mildenhall, England, for Melbourne. It would be the most tiring race Turner would ever fly. The most harrowing experience of the flight occurred at night between Karachi and AJlahabad. Unable to get any bearings to Allahabad when their estimated time of arrival passed, Turner recounted their options: "Tigers, crocodiles, and no airport. Ball out and play tag with tigers. Land in the river and annoy the crocs. Do neither and die."

Fortunately, they located Allahabad just before their fuel was exhausted. They proceeded across the Bay of Bengal to subsequent landings at Alor Star, Singapore, Koepang and Darwin. After Darwin, both engines began losing power and the throttles had to be cut back. They crossed a trackless area of Australia without a single landmark for navigation, but finally found a strong radio signal and landed at Charleville for quick repairs. After takeoff, both engines were still giving trouble, and the left one was cut back when it began throwing oil. When the right engine began losing oil out of the breather pipe, they changed course for an emergency landing at Bourke. Nichols noted in his log: "Roscoe [was] so damned tired that he was swaying back and forth and the heat was not helping the situation any either."

After about an hour and 20 minutes working on the oil leaks, they departed Bourke, passed over the finish line at Melbourne and landed to a large reception. The elapsed time was 3 days, 21 hours, 5 minutes, 2 seconds. The two KLM pilots in the DC-2 had landed only 2 hours before. Had the 247 not had to be throttled back and landed at Bourke, they would have placed second to the Comet, which had flown the route in 70 hours, 59 minutes.

The KIM Douglas crew had entered both the speed and handicap categories, opting to take first prize in the latter. Turner and his crew earned $7,500 for second place in the handicap classification. They were the only Americans to complete the flight. Sixty-three aircraft had entered the race; 20 had started but only 12 had reached Melbourne.

Roscoe Turner was now internationally famous and was featured on the cover of Time magazine. The trio and the plane were returned to the United States by ship. Turner then obtained sponsors such as Camel cigarettes and a motor scooter company. He also contracted with the Heinz Co. for a radio show and promotional programs. He borrowed a Boeing 80A and began a nationwide speaking tour to raise money to pay his debts.

Turner entered the 1935 Bendix and Thompson races flying the Wedell-Williams racer. He failed to win the Bendix by only 23.5 seconds, placing second. In the Thompson race, he had to make an emergency landing in midrace that took him out of the competition. Convinced that he could win the next year, Turner had a more powerful Pratt & Whitney engine installed in the Wedell. Meanwhile, he asked Howard W. Barlow, a University of Minnesota professor, to design a plane to be manufactured by Lawrence W. Brown in Los Angeles. Brown did not follow Barlow's plans or Turner's instructions, and the plane was shipped to E.M. "Matty" Laird in Chicago for reworking.
Meanwhile, Turner planned to enter the Wedell in the 1936 Bendix, which would terminate in Los Angeles that year. En route to New York for the start, he crashlanded near an Indian reservation in New Mexico. Turner broke several ribs. But Turner had his new racer, which he designated the Turner Special, in time for the 1937 races. He was disqualified for the Bendix because he received flash burns after a spot-welder tried to repair a gasoline leak while Turner was watching. However, he entered the Thompson and placed third.

His reputation intact despite the losses, Turner began a radio program with NBC. He obtained contracts for advertising various products, such as Vitalis hair preparation, General Tires, and Ethyl Gasoline, that enabled him to pay most of his creditors and keep others at bay.
Turner did not enter the 1938 Bendix race but set a world speed record winning the Thompson for the second time, the first pilot in history to do so. He and Jimmy Doolittle thus became the only pilots ever to win both the Bendix and Thompson trophies.

The 1939 National Air Races began under threatening political skies as Hitler began his march across Europe. Turner did not enter the Bendix in 1939, but he did enter the Thompson and won it for the third time at a record-setting 298 mph. It was Turner's last race and also the last of the prewar National Air Races.

Turner had decided during that year to start Roscoe Turner Aeronautical Corp at the Indianapolis Airport. He offered charter flights, instruction, aircraft and engine repairs, and refueling for transients. He built a hangar and school facilities, and when the United States entered the war, his company trained pilots and instructors under the Civilian Pilot Training Program. He helped establish the Civil Air Patrol in Indiana and tried to start an airline to run between Detroit and Memphis, but was ordered by the Civil Aeronautics Board to discontinue service after 40 days because he advertised it as a charter service but operated on a scheduled basis.
Turner's first marriage ended in divorce, and in 1946 he married Madonna Miller, an attractive Indiana native. With her business acumen and his never-failing ability to stay in the news and attract trade, his fixed-base operation slowly became profitable, despite many financial ups and downs. Meanwhile, Turner was preaching the importance of air power and the necessity for a strong, independent air force. He served as a consultant to the House of Representatives Science and Aeronautics Committee for eight years, and headed the American Legion's National Security Committee. In one of his many speeches, he concluded by saying, "Air power is peace power"-five words that were adopted by the Air Force during the Cold War years as a slogan for the Strategic Air Command.

Many honors would come Turner's way, including the Distinguished Flying Cross, one of the few awarded to nonmilitary pilots. The townspeople of Corinth, Miss., named their airport after the town's most famous native son.
After moving to Indianapolis, Turner planned to build a museum at the airport to house his awards, the Turner Special, his Packard phaeton, and Gilmore, his former flying partner, now deceased but perfectly preserved. After the Turners sold their interest in the fixed-base operation, ground was broken for the museum at the airport in July 1969. Meanwhile, however, Turner had been steadily weakened by bone cancer during the late 1960s; he died on June 23, 1970.

The museum was dedicated on Turner's 75th birthday, September 29, 1970. It was closed two years later when the airport needed the space for expansion. Madonna Turner donated most of the contents to the National Air and Space Museum. The Boeing 247D that Turner had flown in the Melbourne race was already on display at the Washington, D.C., museum and has been on permanent display in the transportation gallery since the museum opened. The Turner Special, his uniform, trophies and Gilmore can be seen today at the museum's Garber facility. His Packard is at the Indianapolis Speedway Museum.

Each August, the Roscoe Turner Balloon Festival is held at the Corinth airport. It is fitting tribute to a uniquely flamboyant local pilot who may have done more than any other to romanticize and publicize flying in America during its golden age.