I daresay if you used that as a guiding principle, you’d be right more often than wrong.
Yes, sir. Because men in positions of authority are usually men who have devoted their lives to the skills they need to acquire authority, rather than the skills of administration and technical competence.
That’s a rather keen observation, Mrs. Ryterband.
It was one of the things Harold used to say.
Then your brother did devote thought to things other than mechanics?
Well, he wasn’t a machine. He had a mind. A good mind. There were things he took very little interest in-politics, religion, social things-but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t aware of them.
Yes, ma’am. Now, your brother developed a large reputation during the latter part of the war in Europe, and after the war he and Mr. Ryterband set up a lightplane factory, isn’t that right?
It was in California. We moved to Palo Alto in November of nineteen forty-five. Charles and I had been married just a year.
What had your husband been doing, professionally, during that year?
Well, you see, the war effort had petered out in Alaska by the end of nineteen forty-three, and there wasn’t sufficient work to keep the company going in Anchorage. Charles had closed down the facility in the middle of nineteen forty-four and returned to Ohio. He was a very loyal American and he’d decided that he ought to offer his services to one of the aircraft companies for the duration of the war. He secured an important position with Northrop in Hawthorne, California. That was how we came to be in California-we moved out there right after the wedding. He worked mainly on the P-61 fighter, the Black Widow. But right after the war-in fact it was before the war actually ended-Northrop was given a government contract to develop the F-89, the Scorpion. It was the first all-weather jet fighter. It used Allison jet engines, and my husband was not interested in those, so we left Hawthorne in November and joined my brother up in Palo Alto.
It strikes me as a bit odd that both your husband and Mr. Craycroft had such an abiding dislike of jet-powered planes. Most scientists and engineers are avidly devoted to the idea of progress, and the advent of the jet certainly would have to be called progress, wouldn’t it?
It was rather like a religion with them, Mr. Skinner. As if they were Jews and a Christian missionary had tried to sell them on a new religion. I don’t think I can explain it more clearly than that.
I see. Well, in any case this lightplane factory in Palo Alto…
Alpine Aircraft Company.
Yes. It produced highly advanced planes, but it was out of business by the beginning of nineteen forty-eight. How did that happen?
We were victimized by exploitive businessmen. The men who invested the capital to build the company were making these investments for tax purposes, as we learned later. They needed losses. They actually couldn’t afford for the company to make a profit. Can you believe that?
Very easily. It’s not unique by any means. Now, from nineteen forty-eight until nineteen fifty-three, your husband and your brother went separate ways, is that correct?
Yes, sir. My husband was with Lockheed. He worked mainly on improvements in the mechanical components of the Constellation. The company was making two jet fighters at the same time-the F-80 and the F-94-but Charles had nothing to do with those. We lived in Burbank, near the plant. In the meantime my brother returned to Alaska and worked for the airline there-in Anchorage and sometimes in Seattle-until the Reds invaded South Korea. He was called up and went to Japan. During the Korean War my husband, in the meantime, left Lockheed and we moved a few blocks to a new apartment in Sherman Oaks. We both went to work for the Knute Special Effects Company. I worked in the office there. In fact, I kept my job there even after Harold and Charles set up their own company to restore airplanes for the movies.
That was ACA-Air Corps Associates?
That’s right. They started the company in nineteen fifty-four. It became one of the most successful aircraft companies in the world.
It lasted some fifteen years?
Mr. Skinner, the company still exists and is still an important company. It was founded by my brother and my husband.
Yes, ma’am. But they were frozen out of it in nineteen sixty-nine?
Yes. They were victimized by greedy businessmen, once again.
Well, as I understand it, there was a dispute about moving into the jet market. Didn’t that have something to do with it?
Yes, sir.
All right, Mrs. Ryterband. I certainly don’t want to open up old wounds of that kind.
I had expected this meeting to be much more painful than you’ve made it, Mr. Skinner. I do appreciate your kindness-you’ve been very gentle.
Well, I’m afraid the painful part is yet to come. Now, at the beginning of nineteen seventy the three of you moved back here to New York-actually to Long Island. Both your husband and your brother joined the staff of Aeroflight Incorporated, a company owned by Samuel Spaulding. Is that substantially correct?
Yes, sir. Sam Spaulding was an old friend of Harold’s from the war days. Quite honestly, he worshiped Harold.
So I understand. But there really wasn’t too much for Mr. Craycroft or Mr. Ryterband to do there, was there? They regarded themselves as superfluous much of the time, I’m told. This must have chafed them, didn’t it?
They kept busy, I can assure you. But it’s true they sometimes felt they’d been shunted onto the sidelines. My husband made several forays outside the company, looking for something more suitable.
I wasn’t aware of that.
Oh, my, yes. We visited Beechcraft, Cessna, Ryan, and the Hiller Company. He even went to Canada to be interviewed by an odd little company in Saskatchewan that is building working replicas of the old Ford Trimotors. Did you know that’s still the most efficient airplane of its kind? For its weight and capacity it’s still a good economical craft. That’s why they’re making them again. Harold and Charles contributed a great deal to the design of that plane, you know-back in the thirties.
Yes, ma’am. But I take it none of these job interviews panned out?
Until just a very few years ago, Mr. Skinner, the aviation industry was still in the hands of the giants. The pioneers. They were old men, but honorable and highly creative. But today there’s a new generation. Money men, businessmen. As they’re fond of saying, the accent is on youth. By nineteen seventy my husband was fifty-eight years of age. To put it bluntly he was too old. Too old! Good Lord, sir, Henry Ford was still active in his seventies!
Yes, ma’am. Now, in June of last year Samuel Spaulding died, and control of Aeroflight passed to your husband and your brother?
In a manner of speaking.
In a manner of speaking? Could you explain what you mean by that?
They weren’t free to operate the company according to their own judgment, Mr. Skinner. If they had been, I’m sure the company wouldn’t have failed. But they had the lawyers breathing down their necks. The executors looking over their shoulders. The stockholders and directors carping at them incessantly-actually filing applications for court orders to inhibit our plans for the company.
Still, Mr. Ryterband and Mr. Craycroft had a proxy from Mrs. Spaulding to vote her controlling stock in the company, didn’t they?
Only in theory. Only on paper. Every time they tried to put a policy into practice, the minority stockholders would go into court. Several times they obtained restraining orders to prevent us from making vitally necessary moves while they pressed in court for a declaration that Mrs. Spaulding was legally incompetent. They never succeeded with that perfidy, of course, but their delaying tactics ruined the company. They all blame Harold and Charles for it, but the truth is they’ve only themselves to blame. They were greedy, shortsighted, and vicious.
Nevertheless, the company went bankrupt. A Chapter Eleven was filed in December of last year, isn’t that the case?