Past Contact: Mechanics in Aviation History

by Giacinta Bradley Koontz
Created: January 1, 2007

Imagine the Spirit of St. Louis with a cage for a fuelage and a full grown African lion as the passenger. If that conjures up a scenario from a black and white silent film, you would not be far off.

In his spare time between overhauls and restoration work for paying customers, Gifford has formed a fuselage frame from original and custom-made replacement parts, with a tail assembly the shape of a giant guitar pick, which I recognized as a Ryan. Gifford’s passion may only be equaled by his patience. “Because of the expense and research involved,” says Gifford, “I expect to be at it many years.”

As I drove away from NostalgAire it occurred to me our A&P protagonist, Scott Gifford, is as unique as the airplane he is destined to build.

pplying his modern practical skills, Gifford is preserving the work done by the designers and mechanics before him.

I wrote screenplays for five years while living near “Hollywierd,” and could not resist interjecting script jargon. I have no doubt a producer will soon option this historical saga for a documentary or feature film.

Fade to credits.

Cast of characters

The Pilot
During the late 1920s Martin (“Marty”) Jensen was employed as a pilot by Lewis Air Tours, thrilling tourists with the first aerial views over Hawaii. In 1927 he entered his Breese 5 monoplane, Aloha, in the Dole Air Race between Oakland, CA, and Hawaii. He and his navigator (Capt. Paul Schluter) survived as one of the two aircraft to complete the trip. Seven of the 15 entrants perished making the attempt. By the time MGM’s executives hired Jensen (age 26) to fly Leo to New York, his wife, Marguerite, took his adventures in stride.

The briefest thumbnail profile of Jensen should include mention of “Jensen Field,” the WWII airfield which bore his name between 1940-1946 (alternately known as “Clark Field”) at Charleston, SC.

Aviation historian John Underwood knew Jensen during the 1950s-1960s while Jensen lived in Southern California. Underwood remembers Jensen at OX5 and Silver Wings meetings during the 1960s. Although he had retired from Douglas Aircraft Corp. by that time, “Marty always had something on the drawing board. He was an extraordinarily talented individual,” recalls Underwood, “but had little business sense, which is why there is no Jensen Aerospace Corp. today.”

Although I did not follow up on the details, Underwood flew the Langley, a “little twin” designed by Jensen. Bendix once hired Jensen to help develop a helicopter, but Underwood was particularly impressed with Jensen’s innovative designs which contributed to the Meyers OTW (“Out to Win”), a WWII trainer aircraft.

The Lion
At the center of this story is Leo, a male adult African lion whose regal parentage is not recorded. However, MGM acknowledged that he was not the same lion photographed for use in its famous roaring logo.

During the1920s small traveling circuses “wintered” in warm climes like Los Angeles, CA, and Sarasota, FL. The original “logo” lion used only as a photographic model, was purported to have been part of Gay’s Lion Farm of El Monte, CA. The King of Beasts roared aloud for the first time in 1928 at the advent of “talkies.” He was later advertised as the “MGM Lion.”

“Leo,” the 350-pound feline chosen to fly with Jensen, was borrowed from the Al G. Barnes Circus wintering in Culver City, very close to the back lot of MGM Studios.

MGM’s bizarre PR scheme to fly Leo across the United States was hyped a week in advance by exhibiting him on its lot. MGM employee, Pete Smith, recalled Leo in a “huge circular cage under the care of a trainer from the Barnes Circus.”

Following Leo’s rescue from the wrecked MGM Special he was returned to California, regained his health, and again traveled with Barnes’ Circus as “Leo, the MGM Flying Lion.” According to Dawn Gifford’s research, Leo was well-behaved before, during, and after his precarious adventure with Marty Jensen. Our best guess is that he was pampered and treated royally the rest of his natural life. In keeping with his noble and dignified career, he was apparently not stuffed for public display upon his demise.

The Studio Executive
Pete Smith was director of publicity for MGM Studios during 1927 when his boss, Louis B. Mayer asked him to create a stunt attracting “national attention to the MGM trademark,” (i.e., Leo the lion). Smith proposed that a live lion be flown from California to New York with newspaper and radio publicity en route. By the mid 1960s Smith was contemplating an autobiography and recalled the New York reception scheduled for the arrival of Leo and Jensen. “At Long Island airfield, Howard Dietz [the MGM representative] had arranged a big reception for Leo including brass band, search lights, etc. which waited all night long in vain. It was planned to exhibit the animal in the lobby of the Capitol Theatre on Broadway.”

Although Smith manipulated the press as part of his job for MGM, he failed to track down the studio’s press release pictures for his own book. “Don’t Ask for Photographs,” he advised a researcher, “there just aren’t any.” Forty years later the images have emerged and now reach millions via Internet archives.