In nineteen hundred and three,

FROM ORVILLE AND WILBUR TO CLAYTON - IN RHYME

In nineteen hundred and three,

On a sand dune not far from the sea;

The two brothers Wright,

Made the very first flight:

And began powered history.

Then in nineteen hundred and nine,

After sipping a small glass of wine;

Lou went to Dover,

The Channel flown over:

In England on breakfast he'd dine.

In just a few hectic years,

The flying machine had changed gears.

When the Archduke was shot,

The flying got hot:

And then came great progress - but tears.

For in the Great War came the gun,

"Beware of the Hun in the sun".

What once was adventure,

Became terminal censure:

And flying was no longer "fun".

Then finally peace was at hand;

The "Age of the Jenny" began.

Old war surplus planes,

Carried new Johns and Janes:

And flying "took off" in our land.

Though Jennies and Canucks were cheap,

Performance had made a great leap.

The door was now open,

And people were hopin':

That into the future they'd peep.

Along came old Matty and Lloyd,

And started to fill in the void.

With Clyde C. and Walter,

Aircraft they did alter:

New thoughts and designs were employed.

Then up popped a fellow named Clayton,

Whose factory was not far from Dayton.

He said, "I've a plan,

And Buck Weaver's our man:"

It's only for cash that we're waitin'.

So when they had gotten some dough,

A modified Jenny they'd show.

"It went somewhat faster,

But it's not what we're after:"

Said Clayton as he bent his elbow.

What we need is a much better flyer,

That goes quite some further and higher.

With seating for three,

And no Curtiss "V":

We'll find a more affluent buyer.

For power there'd be the new Wright,

The wings were a tapered delight.

With a pull on the stick,

You could do any trick:

It was a new standard for flight.

The Straight Wing was good in it's day,

But the F2 showed others the way.

It was nimble and nice,

With nary a vice:

And it kept competition at bay.

Now riding outside could be chilly,

Foul weather would make it quite silly.

Four people inside,

With a comfortable ride:

Perhaps a small vase for a lily.

So taking the QCF-2,

They used wings and tail - engine too.

A cabin was made,

Where four people stayed:

The plane that resulted was new.

There then came a quest for more speed;

New engines could now fill that need.

Along came the Jake,

And dismissing the shake:

The Wacos got faster indeed.

Both open and closed ones were made;

Sit outside or inside in shade.

They then added flaps,

For the short field chaps:

And soon aircraft radios played.

But then came the Staggerwing Beech,

At speeds that no others could reach.

It sucked up it's gear,

As the ground it did clear:

A lesson to all it would teach!

And then what began as recession,

Turned into a full fledged depression.

The sales became leaner,

As steak became wiener:

List pricing declined with aggression.

Now suddenly planes like the "E",

Were locked in a seldom used "T".

No money for fuel,

Left this wonderful jewel:

Forgotten in flight history.

And then came a new call to arms,

With kids leaving cities and farms.

We needed a plane,

In which flyers to train:

They came out of hangars and barns.

Now Waco stepped up to the plate,

With an aircraft that soon all would rate;

Much more of a winner,

Than the one with a Kinner:

Too bad it was just a day late.

They had tried with the S3HD,

A maker of fighters to be.

The plane was not fast -

A part of the past:

But value in future we'd see!

With metal the new wave of things,

No fabric was used on the wings.

The wood working skills,

Were now just for frills:

And welding was used to patch dings.

Subcontracting was never much fun,

You always were under the gun.

Then along came a spec,

That needed low tech:

The contract for gliders was won.

But after they'd bought the design,

The Army was not very kind.

They sent out the bids,

To a bunch of new kids:

And put Waco into a bind.

Before the whole project was finished,

The size of the contact diminished.

What should have made riches,

Were just cause for glitches:

And overall profits were blemished.

Now Waco developed a plan;

That didn't include a spam can.

With tricycle gear,

And the prop in the rear:

But the thing didn't work worth a damn!

Then things out at Waco went fast;

As aircraft production had past.

They made a log splitter,

Which on shelves was a sitter:

The die had been finally cast.

But don't ever count out a champ;

Just go look on the best airport's ramp.

Take a day - have a ball;

Go to HARM - see them all:

For Creve Coeur's where the most Wacos camp.

I will now end this rambling bit,

Before everyone has a fit.

An attempt to compress,

Has become - I confess:

A sure sign it's now time to quit.