Macready Out

Last week one of the nation's best fliers folded his wings and settled himself for keeps on a comfortable perch. Lieutenant John A. Macready,* U.S. Army, decided not to accept an order transferring him from McCook Flying Feld (Dayton, Ohio) to France Field, Panama, but to resign from the Air Service and from aviation in general, and become a salesman for the Delco Light Co. (General Motors subsidiary). His resignation took effect while he was in the midst of one of the performances that his high reputation.

People who believe that Heaven is located directly above earth at the top of the sky can only conclude that John A. Macready has been, in the flesh, nearer to the pearly gates than any other living man save one; than any man not living, save for the few notable exceptions of people who ascended in fiery chariots, on an eagle's back and the like. In 1921 he brought his plane down out of the invisible firmament with the barographs registering 34,509 ft.--that year's world record. His greatest rival during the next two years was Sadi Lecointe, the Frenchman, who crept just a few hundred feet higher than Macready both years. In 1924, Macready's barographs one day registered 43,000 ft., but this height was not certified officially, and in October of that year Lecointe's countrymen, Calliso, set a mark of 39,357 ft., which has stood as the official record ever since.

Last week, at the very moment of becoming a civilian, Macready was towering over Springfield, Ohio, with one barograph frozen fast above 37,000 ft. and another so frosted he could not read it, making a last effort (the second within that fortnight) to bring the record to the U.S. His engine went dead (no gas). He coasted all the way to earth in a 20-mile spiral ("longest glide in the history of aviation"). Then he awaited the official reading of the barograph that had kept functioning. During his nine years of Army flying, Macready contributed much to aviation, especially on altitude work--temperatures, climbing designs, pilot's clothes. With Lieutenant Oakley G. Kelly, he set a non-stop flight record of 36 hours; and flew from San Diego, Calif., to Indianapolis.

*Pronounced, by this Macready, "Macraydy"