Albany’s Airports

One of the landmark events in aviation, Glenn Curtiss’s record-setting long distance flight to New York City, started from Albany – specifically Westerlo Island (sometimes also called Van Rensselaer Island, but it was one of several by that name). But contrary to many reports since that flight, what he took off from was not Albany’s airport. Not yet. In fact, Curtiss paid for the use of the farmer’s field from which he departed. And although that land did eventually become Albany’s airport, the first municipal airfield was actually in Loudonville.

In 1903, The Albany Polo Club was formed with a membership of 74 enthusiastic horsemen. “The club already has a field picked out on the cross-road between the Loudon and Shaker roads, opposite the junction of the old Ransom [stoves] and Burt [ale] estates, which have been occupied for several summers past by Charles L.A. Whitney and Charles H. Sabin [members of the new club], respectively. It is probable that a club house and stables will be built here, and the field still further improved. Polo was played here last summer by a few enthusiasts, but two full teams were seldom obtainable and polo ponies were painfully scarce.”

That cross-road between Loudon(ville) and Shaker Roads would appear to be Crumitie Road – the Burt villa and a Ransom property are clearly shown just north of Crumitie on an 1891 map. So a field opposite the junction of those two estates would be south of Crumitie. But how far south it extended is not clear; some reports say it was near the St. Agnes School, which didn’t exist on this map but would be in the vicinity of the dotted drive on the lower end of Loudonville Road. The actual location would be useful to know, because the polo grounds later became Albany’s first airport.

1891 Beers map showing the large, blank area of Loudonville that was likely home first to a polo field and then to the first Albany airport.

A brief history prepared by Mayor John Boyd Thacher II in 1940 said, “Back in 1918 the Albany Chamber of Commerce, through the assistance of a group of public-spirited citizens, established a municipal aviation field at Loudonville. Officers of the Aero Club of America and of the Flying Club of New York were notified of the establishment of this airport, and that its use was open to members of those organizations.” The mayor also described the effort, that same year, to procure air mail service at Albany, which was considered a very big deal.

The First Municipal Airdrome

In April 1919, the Knickerbocker Press reported that the former polo field at Loudonville, “the first municipal airdrome to be established in the United States,” would be named for the “daring American aviator,” Quentin Roosevelt, son of the former governor and president, who was killed in aerial combat over France on Bastille Day, 1918 (making him, by the way, the only child of a U.S. President to have died in combat). Quentin lived some of his young life in Albany during the two years that father Theodore Roosevelt was governor. His brother, Lt. Col. Theodore Roosevelt, attended the ceremonies and said it would give the family great pleasure to have the field named after Quentin.

“The field has been equipped with a permanent white canvas to guide aviators, and a force of men is now busy clearing away loose stones. Dorothy Dalton, the moving picture screen actress who will fly to Albany from New York Tuesday [April 29, 1919] will land on the field.”

In May 1919 it was reported that Captain O.M. Birch, former Albanian, had interested “several prominent Albanians in a passenger air line to Saratoga and several other nearby cities,” leaving from Quentin Roosevelt Memorial field. The article was headlined “Aerial Taxis to Saratoga Races,” and it indicated that the landing field in Saratoga would probably be “the Horse Haven or Kaydeross fields.”

“The Chamber of Commerce gave Captain Birch permission to use the Loudonville field. The Aero Club of America has advertised Albany’s field all over the country and several large airplane factories have become interested.” The Chamber of Commerce’s aviation committee, and in particular chairman Chauncey Hakes of The Albany Garage company, seems to have been in control of what is generally characterized as a municipal airfield, under terms that are confusing from a modern perspective.

Unidentified flyers at the Quentin Roosevelt Memorial Airfield around 1919. Our thanks as ever to The Albany Group Archive.

In May, the Knickerbocker Press said it was believed that steps taken by Col. Oliver H. Dockery, Jr., in charge of the Albany army recruiting station to prepare for the arrival of an airplane squadron in Albany, “means a permanent aviation field in Albany. The place selected, after consulting with Chauncey D. Hakes, is the polo grounds, called the Quentin Roosevelt field, and Colonel Dockery is satisfied it will meet requirements for the establishment of a municipal airdrome for The Capitol District.”

Trees were to be cleared and an old road bed in the center of the field had to be filled in order for an army squadron to use the field.

“Albany will be the center from which flights will be made over Troy, Schenectady and other cities of The Capitol District. One of the largest machines will be brought for exhibition to the Broadway plaza, which will be the central station for recruiting and enlistment of men for the air service.”

In June of that year, the aerial committee of the Albany Chamber of Commerce made an effort to have seven airplanes, scheduled to be flown by Cornell aviators from Mineola to Ithaca in honor of Cornell University’s centennial, make a stop in Albany. That fleet was commanded by Major Maurice Connolly, who was severely critical of Roosevelt Field when several of the “army birdmen” were injured landing there.

June 21, 1919 – the Loudonville bus would take you near the air field. Albany had an early commitment to multi-modal transportation. That $25 rate for 15 minutes in the air would amount to about $451 today.

At the same time, the Birch Aircraft Company was formed, with Parker Corning as President, Charles L.A. Whitney as vice president, Edwin Corning as treasurer, and former military aviator C. Ward Birch as general manager. The company was to establish transportation service and deal in aeroplanes and seaplanes. They were already looking to Westerlo Island “as a successor to the Loudonville field for aeroplanes landing in Albany.” The commandant of the Mineola field said the Loudonville field was unsatisfactory for landing purposes, and The Argus wrote that Westerlo Island “has a long smooth surface and could also be used for landing seaplanes, having a beach sloping into the river. . . Westerlo Island is outside the city limits. The land is owned largely by the city of Albany.”

The Hotel Commodore Air Stakes

The demand for airfield access was quickly clear. The early days of flight were dynamic, exciting, and frequently deadly. There were constant attempts at various records, and numerous contests with significant prizes at stake. Albany’s first air field was a key stop in the “Hotel Commodore air stakes,” held in late August 1919, which carried prizes totaling $10,000 as promotion for the newly built Hotel Commodore in New York City, then competing with the also new Hotel Pennsylvania for attention.

The nature of the competition is not entirely clear to us, though it appears that it was a handicap race, testing aircraft against their theoretical capabilities. It appears the point was to set the fastest speed in a round trip, and that planes began in both Mineola (New York) and Toronto. One news article described it as a 1,042 mile international air derby between New York and Toronto. The Knickerbocker Press called it “the greatest air dash ever staged,” and on its second day, 38 planes, “speeding north and west, stopped at Quentin Roosevelt Memorial field in the international air derby.”

By “New York,” they meant Mineola on Long Island, where in fact another air field was named for Quentin Roosevelt. Both foreign-built planes and foreign flyers apparently added to its international flavor. A crowd of 3000 spectators was at the field. The flyers made several stops at Albany over the course of several days. Celebrated flyer Austen Crehore suffered serious injuries “on an attempt to take the air after a false landing,” hitting an elm tree at the northeast corner of the field; after three months recovering, he announced his retirement from flying. At least six other accidents occurred at Albany in the race as well.

This table in the Aug. 27, 1919 Albany Argus lists the planes that stopped in Albany on Aug. 26; flyers left from both New York (Mineola) and Toronto, with the Loudonville field serving as an official stop.

After the race, the Knickerbocker Press said that more than 120 landings had been made at “Quentin Roosevelt Park” in the previous week, and that representatives of the American Flying Club who were here for the derby thought Albany had a great future as an air center.

“Air routes reaching south to New York city, east and southeast over the Berkshires to Boston and other Massachusetts cities and to the famous summer resorts of the Atlantic coast; north to the resorts along Lake George and Lake Champlain and to Canada, and west to the important cities of the state, to Toronto and to the big cities of the west, will make Albany one of the most important flying centers in the United States, the race officials agreed.”

Race official W.G. Stout said, “Albany will be an air center. I am told it is to have a flying field second to none. I know its men are of the progressive sort and get things done, so I hope some day to drop in from the air onto the Albany flying field – lightly of course – and again shake the hand of those who have made our stay here so very pleasant and the race such a tremendous success.”

Plans to move south

But it was already clear that Loudonville wasn’t the future. The Press opined that members of the Chamber of Commerce and “other public men of Albany” would waste no time in putting the new aviation field on Westerlo island into first class shape. It was then expected to be ready in time for “Honor Day,” September 13.

The Albany Press wrote,

“The new Albany field is to have one distinction shared by no other field in the United States. It is to be a ‘four-way’ field, permitting ‘ships’ to take off toward any of the four cardinal points of the compass. When the features of the new fields were explained to aviators who landed in Albany during the air derby, they gave their opinion that the new field would be an excellent one.”

It was also pointed out that the new field would be more easily located from the air, because it would be just south of the large collection of Standard Oil tanks on Westerlo Island, “within easy access of vast fuel and oil supplies. The big tanks of the plant are visible, even on misty days, from a large distance, marking the field indelibly to the air pilot.” Visibility from the air was a big deal in those pre-instrument, non-lighted field days. During the course of the Hotel Commodore stakes,

“At least five of the aviators in the air derby confused the big stone pyramid at Aqueduct, close to the Schenectady field at Scotia, for the giant ‘A’ which marks the Albany field. Several of them landed at the Schenectady field before they realized their mistake. The ‘A’ is the distinguishing mark of the Albany field, given to the field when Albany became the first city in the United States to provide a municipal aviation field.”

The Press certainly implied that was ancient history, when in fact it was just the year prior.

Westerlo Island

By October 1919, work had started on developing Westerlo Island, which would also be called Quentin Roosevelt Memorial field, to be ready in time for the “aeroplanes and hydro-aeroplanes that will take part in the great Aerial Derby Around the World . . . which will be the greatest event in the history of aviation. In this race around the world, aircraft will probably start simultaneously from New York city and several cities in Europe, and in it aces of all nations will participate.”

It was again noted that Westerlo Island was flat (“level as a billiard table”), directly on the Hudson, easy to spot and well-supplied with fuel, as well as rail access. In December, Mayor James Watt formally tendered to the Chamber of Commerce the use of Westerlo Island as a municipal aviation field.

In January 1920 The Argus wrote that,

“By spring Albany will have one of the largest and finest aviation landing fields in the United States and this city should become a big aviation centre. The field on Westerlo Island should be an inducement to manufacturers of aircraft to locate one or more plants here, and no doubt the aviation committee of the Albany Chamber of Commerce will see that its advantages are made known. Many airplanes are going to be built from now on, and Albany should have its share in the industry.”

1891 Beers map showing Westerlo Island, here marked as Van Rensselaer Island, well before its development as an air field.

Why the City of Albany owned property outside its boundaries was not explained, but it did. In March 1920, the Argus reported that,

“The three or four residents of the South End of the city who have been permitted to work the land [on Westerlo Island] by the city for the purpose of raising vegetables and wheat have been notified by city officials that they will be unable to use the land for this purpose in the future, as work on the new aviation field will begin at once . . . and work to put the field into condition for early use will be started as soon as the weather will permit. The field, which will be one mile long and about half a mile wide and which will be large enough to land any type of plane with safety, will be open to aviators within two months.”

The Argus said that Westerlo came into prominence when several aviators were injured on Roosevelt field on Loudonville Road the previous summer.

“Double advantages will be offered in the new field, as it can be used as a landing place for sea planes. It is the purpose to have a large beach constructed along the river front.”

It was late May before work on grading the land at Westerlo was to begin, creating a landing field a mile each way. “Aviators will be able to take off and land from all four directions, which will be a big asset to the Albany field.” In June, work was awaiting arrival of tractors that were being contributed by Henry Ford and his son Edsel, and presented on their behalf by the Orange Motor Company, then an agent for not just cars but tractors. “With the arrival of the tractors work will be rushed and is expected to be completed within two weeks time. The ground will be plowed, harrowed and rolled until smooth and will be named The Quentin Memorial Field [sic] when completed.”

It was scheduled to be open by the end of July, and was to have been marked with an aerial exhibition. It was to be large enough to accommodate 150 planes, “although it will be unsafe for more than two or three to attempt a landing at the same time. A steel hangar promised by the war department will be installed when the field is opened.” Unfortunately, the opening was delayed several times by weather conditions, the hangar appears never to have been installed, and we have not found the official opening date or the associated ceremonies, but sometime late in 1920 Quentin Roosevelt Memorial Field was established at Westerlo Island.

On Sept. 20th, 1920, the first Army airplane landed at Westerlo after an hour and a half flight from Mineola, piloted by Lt. H.D. Norris, who had been first to land at the Loudonville field. “Tomorrow noon they will fly over the city distributing army recruiting pamphlets and also tickets the the picture ‘Up in Mary’s Attic,’ which is being shown this week at the Clinton Square theater.”

Norris told the executive secretary of the Chamber of Commerce “that he was delighted with the new flying field and that it was the finest with a possible exception of several government fields that he had landed on. He declared that the surrounding conditions were ideal as there was no obstruction, and an airplane could flatten out fully two miles away from the field and skim along just over the water to a landing place.”

Of course, the air field was one thing, and getting there was another. The Knickerbocker Press reported on July 10, 1920, that the South End Business Men’s club was urging the paving of Gansevoort street, “which will be one of the most direct routes available from Albany to the island field. Little more than one block of the street needs to be paved, and when finished it will connect South Pearl street and Kenwood road with the end of the island bridge, which it is now almost impossible to reach directly with heavy traffic . . . The belief that the field will not only boom Albany in general, but because of its nearness to the section will help the South End in particular has made residents of the section especially desirous of aiding in every way possible the establishing of the field.”

In 1921, the Hudson Valley Air Line began operating between Albany and New York, as well as making runs to Saratoga during the racing season. That same year, the proximity to the river lent itself to a plan to begin “flying boat passenger service” between Albany and New York. Whether this came to fruition, we didn’t learn, though the company that made the planes was certainly keen on the idea. “The flying boat, or hydroplane, is said to be much safer than the commoner type of airplane because it takes off from and lands on the water where the likelihood of accident is infinitely less. The type of boat proposed for this service would carry five passengers besides the pilot,” the Times-Union reported.

The Promise of Air Mail

Establishing Albany as a stop for air mail was a repeated theme in the years that planes operated out of Westerlo Island. City and business officials saw this as important – in part, because it promised faster moving mail (air mail used to cost extra) at times when there were slowdowns in the regular mail service; and in part because planes with an air mail contract also provided commercial and passenger service to the cities along their routes. Air mail was a shortcut to getting passenger service.

In 1924, Chauncey Hakes, chairman of the Chamber’s aviation committee, was still promoting the field. “In our work to make Albany a central aviation point for the eastern states and New England, and a stopping place on transcontinental air lines, we first will try to convince army aviation men that Westerlo Island offers all advantages as a landing field on one of the standard army flight routes. After that is accomplished, it will be much easier to bring mail and commercial air service to Albany.”

Hakes explained that it was the aviation department of the Army that maintained the standard air routes over which planes were tested, new flyers instructed, and new inventions and air accessories tried out, so getting interest from the military truly would get Albany’s air field on the map.

This 1927 cutline, courtesy of The Albany Group Archive, describes the installation of a 10-foot diameter lime circle installed at Quentin Roosevelt field in order to help with landings. Officials were studying a plan for lighting, but it appears lights were never installed. By this time it was clear the airport would be moving.

In 1927, it was reported that Albany would have air mail soon – and that the successful competitor for the route from Westerlo Island to Cleveland, with stops at Schenectady, Syracuse, Rochester and Buffalo, would be expected to institute commercial and passenger service over the route. But by this time, the days of Quentin Roosevelt Memorial Field were already numbered.

Moving to the Shaker Farm – Air Mail at Last!

That was largely because of the project to deepen the Hudson River navigation channel and expand the Port of Albany – in order to accomplish that expansion, which centered on manufacturing and Standard Oil tanks, the airport would have to move. In addition, air travel was progressing at a speed that made the little field clearly too small, and at the urging of Charles Lindbergh, the city engaged an unnamed “airways expert” from the US Department of Commerce to evaluate potential sites. They looked at Breaker Island and Six Mile Waterworks as sites, but quickly settled on the Shaker farm, which had recently been acquired by Albany County. “On the contention that an airport on the Shaker farm would serve the needs of the entire county as well as the city, Mayor Thacher requested of the board of supervisors that the county, the owner of the land, convey a portion of it to the city for use as an airport.” The county planned to use a small portion of the farm for the replacement penitentiary.

The county conveyed enough land, 235 acres, in September 1927 to meet the requirements for a Class A field, and city crews cleared the land, with contractors performing the final grading. The Albany Evening News printed a map and directions showing the four principal routes that led to the “proposed site of Albany’s new airdrome on the Shaker farm, northwest of the city. The field can be reached from the business section in from twenty-five to thirty-five minutes’ driving time, according to computation by Lester W. Herzog, commissioner of public works.”

On Aug. 26, 1927, well before the completion of the new airport at the Shaker farm, the Albany Evening News provided this helpful map showing potential routes. They recommended going out Loudonville Road to Wolf Road, turning left at the Powell’s Inn sign, “and thence to the Shaker farm. This route is over improved highway.”

The new field at the Shaker farm, not yet completed, saw inaugural air mail service to Cleveland on June 1, 1928.

“From Albany, in five hours and five minutes, the ‘first flight’ plane will reach Cleveland, its destination, 480 miles away, there joning the New York-San Francisco and other routes. An official survey of the Albany airport made last evening from the air by experts of the Colonial Western Airways resulted in an ‘o.k.’ that will mean no delay in the start of service. At sundown, after weeks of intensive labor, a fleet of rollers and tractors moved off the field with two runways laid and an adjoining landing area 1,000 feet long by 1,600 feet wide forming a sheet of heavily rolled sand.”

Although air mail service had begun on June 1, much was still not complete at the airport at that time. On June 18, the Knickerbocker Press noted that structures were nearing completion.

The opening ceremonies included arrival of Mayor Thacher by plane from Syracuse; a group of Federal representatives; Albany air board chairman Chauncey Hakes; public works commissioner Lester Herzog, Governor Al Smith ,and General John F. O’Ryan, president of Colonial Airways, which was providing the air mail service. A tablet was unveiled in the administration building that “bears the name ‘Albany Airport’ and carries the names of Mayor Thacher and the members of the Albany Air board.” Quentin Roosevelt’s name was nowhere to be found.

“Two United States mail trucks bearing the first flight mail will leave the Albany post office at 10:30 o’clock, preceded by a motorcycle escort, arriving at the field just before 11 o’clock. When the dedication ceremony is over, the formality of loading the first plane with mail will take place. The mail trucks will be run onto the field, and the pouches of mail will be placed in the Pitcairn biplane, with the assistance of the Governor, mayor, and Postmaster Pearla S. Kling.
“The first flight plane is painted black, with the lettering ‘Colonial Airways, United States Mail’ under the wings. The second plane, used to carry the extra load, will be a Fairchild cabin plane, also bearing the insignia of the Colonial company. Transfer of the mail to the plane is to be completed swiftly, so that the start of service may begin on the scheduled time. General O’Ryan will follow the planes on the western course, stopping at each city scheduled, where separate celebrations are being held.”

From the start, city officials were encouraging crowds to come to the airport just to watch planes take off and land – of course more of a novelty in 1928. “The general public is welcomed at the field, and because it is a municipal project there is no admission charge or parking fee.” Hakes said that “When completed, the Albany airport will be an institution of which the city can be justly proud, and the sooner the public visits the field and sees this for itself, the better it will be for the advancement of aeronautics in Albany.”

The Knickerbocker Press reported that this was the first appearance of numerous planes in Albany for more than a year, and that the look of the new field was very different, with plans for one runway to reach 5,000 feet, and another of 4,000 feet. “Besides this are the hangars, two structures of brick with glass sides, which are the first hangars Albany has had. Equipment of the field also includes a station for gas and oil, an administration building, and a supply station. The post office will establish an airport branch in the administration building, when it is completed.”

In fact, “an informal post office was set up at the rear of one of the postal mail rucks after it arrived on the field. Nearly 100 letters were stamped there . . . Postmaster Kling presided as the letters received the much sought after ‘first flight’ postmark.”

Two special air mail boxes were set up at State and Eagle, and State and Pearl streets, with twice-daily collections. While it was expected that businesses would be driving the use of air mail, Postmaster Kling was reported as believing that it would be an aid to romance as well, judging by the number of personal air mail letters handled at the start of the service.

“Of course, we have no way of knowing that some of these letters written on pink and blue perfumed stationery contain messages of tender affection, but we can at least guess. After all, why shouldn’t they be? The real devoted lover doesn’t bestow roasted peanuts or dandelions on his one and only, so why shouldn’t he accord her corresponding treatment when he sends written expression of his love by mail?”

Oh, how he did go on, opining how much more impressive an air mail suitor might appear to “a young girl.” Kling imagined she would think, “He wants his letter to reach me in the quickest time posible, so he must mean business. Wonder how I’d look with a bridal veil.”

Work continued, and it wasn’t until Oct. 6, 1928, that the airport was formally dedicated, with an exhibition that included 300 planes including a 1908 Wright brothers biplane, Amelia Earhart’s tri-motored Fokker that had recently crossed the Atlantic, cross-country races, a deadstick landing contest and a civilian parachute jumping contest.

The same day’s paper highlighted the work at Westerlo Island to build a new dock wall while the deeper Hudson channel was being dredged. But by then planes at Westerlo Island were already just a memory.

At least one article leading up to the opening of the Shaker farm airport indicated that the name of Quentin Roosevelt Memorial would be continued at the new location – but by the time of the opening, there was no further mention of Quentin. It cannot have helped that the airport at Mineola was also named for Quentin Roosevelt, leading to highly unnecessary confusion at a time when an entirely new form of transportation was being constructed. That Long Island field lasted considerably longer than its northern counterparts, but after its closure in 1951 the name Roosevelt Field was applied to a new shopping complex.

This 1931 American Airways souvenir map shows the air route from Albany to Cleveland, with stops at Syracuse, Rochester and Buffalo – exactly echoing (except for Schenectady) the air mail route that had been established in 1928.

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