Excerpt from:

                                BARNSTORMING
                                     by
                                Martin Caidin

          ...wingwalkers and stunt men were all creatures, in one way or
  another, of the fabled Curtiss Jenny-- a plane available in such numbers
  after World War I that no American who itched to fly was denied that
  means of risking his neck.
          This historic biplane had its beginnings in February 1914, when a
  United States Army board banned pusher planes because their engines--
  mounted just behind the pilot's perch-- had been crushing fliers
  regularly after breaking loose during crash landings.  Glenn Curtiss
  responded with his model N-- a plane with the engine mounted in front.
  During a visit to the Sopwith Aviation Company in England, he met an
  engineer named B. Douglas Thomas and talked him into designing an
  improved biplane designated Model J.  It was decided to blend the best
  features of both craft into one, and Curtiss, at his Hammondsport, New
  York, factory, was soon producing JN-1s and evolving variations
  designated JN-2, JN-3 and so on until JN-4D became the standard model.
  All were quickly embraced by the nickname Jenny.
          Production reached 100 per month after the company built a new
  factory in Buffalo, New York.  With entry of the United States into the
  War, commissioned subcontractors in eight other American cities began to
  build Jennies too.  The Canadians, meanwhile, turned out a slightly
  altered, more maneuverable version called the Canuck.
          By Armistice Day, some 6,000 Jennies had been produced for the
  United States government (at $5,000 per plane) and 2,000 more for
  governments abroad.  The flow did not stop then.  More than 2,000
  additional Jennies were turned out before Washington got around to
  turning off the faucet for good.  Thousands of these planes became
  surplus goods when the War was over, and even they did not constitute the
  whole market in cheap, eminently flyable aircraft....  [p.25]

          Veteran fliers claimed that the Jenny was like a well-bred woman.
  She was basically stable and even forgiving of mistakes, but if you
  manhandled or mistreated her she would spin like a dervish.  Powered with
  her original OX-5 V-8 engine, the Jenny would clatter along in calm air
  at 75 miles per hour, and if the pilot knew what he was doing, he could
  slide her out of the sky for a neat landing at only 45 per.  The rate of
  climb was less than phenomenal;  Jenny demanded fully five minutes to
  climb to a thousand feet, and she just refused to pick up her skirts and
  run.  It took a brilliant mechanic and then a patient pilot to set up
  Jenny so that she might be dragged laboriously to a height of eleven
  thousand feet-- several thousand feet lower was her normal ceiling.  The
  top wing, considerably longer than the lower, spanned just over 43 feet.
  when empty, the squarish-bodied and ungainly machine balanced the scales
  at a little over 1,400 pounds.  With the fuel tank topped off to its
  limit of twenty-one gallons, Jenny could rumble along for two and a
  quarter hours.  But this was the fuel limit and not one of practicality,
  for it was seldom that the airplane managed to stay airborne for so long
  a period; the engines had the nasty habit of acting up at all the wrong
  times, making it imperative for the pilot to return to earth while he
  could still do so safely and in some comfort.
          Although it was possible in 1920 to purchase spare OX-5 engines
  for the piddling sum of only twenty-five dollars, most pilots preferred
  to switch over to the more powerful Hispano-Suiza engines that ranged
  from 150 to 300 horsepower.  The Hissos were wonderful engines with a lot
  of "git" to them; they made many a pilot unhappy, however, because they
  would quickly become traitorous in a rapidly shifting temperature range.
  The exhaust valves proved overly sensitive to cold air, and they warped
  viciously when hit by the frigid blasts while the Jenny thumped its way
  in for a landing.  Then there was nothing for it except to remove the
  engine and laboriously regrind each valve.  It was time-consuming and
  irritating, but most pilots considered this problem, plus the added
  engine weight, well worth the trouble, and they remained faithful to the
  Hisso and its power.
          Although there were an estimated 1,500 Jennies on hand at war's
  end, not all of these machines were assembled and ready for flight when
  the future cloudbusters shambled up to the government agents with the
  necessary cash.  Recalled one pilot:  "The ship was usually in pieces
  when you got it, and sometimes it was in pieces at the end of the runway
  when you fastened it together and poured on the coal with the idea of
  flying.  What it took to fly was gas and guts...."...  [pp.66-67]

           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Source:  Martin Caidin.  BARNSTORMING.  ________,
              __________: Duell, Sloan, and Pierce, 1965.


     Data transcription by:  Milton Sandy, Jr. May 14, 1993.