Jack E. Barth's Life Story - The Aviation Influence
Written by Jack E. Barth, December 1992
This story was written by my uncle, Jack Edward Barth, who was born in Denver, Colorado in 1919. He earned a degree in Mechanical Engineering from the
University of Colorado, worked for Boeing for a short time, then for Douglas Aircraft for nearly 40 years. I have placed clarification comments in brackets. - David
Barth, December 2007
My first memory of airplanes was when I was about five or six years old, not too many years after the "Great War to End All Wars." Maybe once a month a
plane (Jennie?) would fly over. It was such a novelty that we would run out of the house and watch it until it disappeared in the distance. We lived at 33rd and
Utica in Denver.
Next, I remember the opening of the new Denver airport [Stapleton Airport, closed in 1994] about 1930. The Army Air Corp put on quite a show. There were two
types of large bombers, Keystone and Curtiss. The bombers flew pylon races. It was startling to see them bank 70 or 80 degrees as they rounded the pylon.
The fighters were Curtiss P6s and Boeing P12s. They raced and demonstrated dive bombing.
My brother, Donald, was enthused with airplanes and built models, notably Lindbergh's Ryan, "Spirit of St. Louis," and a nice Curtiss P6. Some time later he
heard that some P26s were coming into Lowery Field [closed to aircraft around 1970], east of Denver. He took me out and it was a joy to see those little P26s
bouncing down those dirt runways.
During the 1920s and 1930s, "pulp" magazines were popular. There were at least three different monthlies with fictional stories of WWI, featuring Fokkers, Spads, etc.
During this same period, the exciting flights of Lindbergh (New York to Paris) and Byrd (to the North Pole) occurred. I think even then I was dreaming more of what a
modern fighter should look like than flying them. In any case, the public was much more excited with aviation compared to the post WWII years.
Then came 1933 and the "Roosevelt Depression." Dad [Victor Barth] found himself unemployed. With his grade school education, he became a U.S. Bureau of
Reclamation engineer at the Hoover Dam. We lived in Boulder City, but bussed to school in Las Vegas. (This was not an effort to integrate the schools.) In school,
I fell into a friendship with a boy, Reg Burrows, who was really nuts about the idea of flying. He called himself "Born to the stick Burrows." We talked and
dreamed of airplanes. His interests were more with piloting, and mine leaned toward designing.
Boulder City had an old runway overgrown with brush. Reg and I decided that if the runway were cleaned up, airplanes might land. So, one hot summer day, we got
our tools and started to clear the brush off. We worked several days and improved the looks of that runway. Our only reward was that an army Boeing P12 came over
us and made a tight 360 degree turn at about 1000 feet altitude, checking us out. We could see the pilot, and we waved, but he flew on. I don't believe any planes
used the runway until more substantial improvements were made. Poor Reg's dreams were shattered when he came down with Polio and was crippled.
I dreamed on until I came to the next fork in the road when I was a freshman at Colorado A&M, in the late 1930s. In surveying class, I teamed up with Jim Beach.
We got along well, and before the year was up, he convinced me that we should change schools, go to the University of Colorado (C.U.), and take aeronautical
engineering. I was not sure that one could make a living in aviation, but I agreed to make the change.
At C.U., I went through a period of unhappiness over Mother and Dad's restrictions concerning social involvement (they had never allowed me to learn to dance,
fearing that I would follow Donald's path [Jack's brother, Donald Scott Barth, who dated a lot]). My grades suffered during this period, but after resolving them,
I managed to finish in the middle of my class.
During my senior year, I enrolled in the Civilian Pilot Training Program (C.P.T.P.). The U.S. was already preparing for war! This was a fairly intensive ground
school and 40 hours of flight training in Piper Cubs with 65 HP Franklin engines. I did not have time to go into the more advanced training in Waco
biplanes.
In any case, I graduated with a B.S.M.E. with an Aero option and a private pilot's license. Mother, Dad, Donald, and Vincent were all in southern California, so I,
of course, preferred to go there. I filled out applications for Lockheed and Boeing. Somehow, I never got a Douglas application. First, I received an offer from
Boeing with a response deadline. When that deadline approached, and I had not heard from Lockheed, I accepted. A week or so later I received a Lockheed offer,
but felt duty bound to honor my Boeing acceptance. So, off to Seattle.
At Boeing, I started in the structural design group as a detailer. Shortly after getting to Seattle, I had to sign up for the draft. Believing that I would receive a
deferment, but would be stuck with the company that provided the basis for the deferment, I decided to move to California. In a phone conversation, Donald
encouraged me to come to California. I quit Boeing and traveled on my 1941 Harley Davidson 74 OHV motorcycle to California without a promise of
a job.
Donald took me to the Douglas Aircraft Santa Monica personnel director and was told that it was against Douglas policy to have relatives working in the same
department. So, they sent me to Douglas' El Segundo plant. This redirection sounds innocent, but it was very important. I don't think I would have done nearly
as well as the Santa Monica facility. At El Segundo, the head of the Stress Group reluctantly said he would give me a trial. He never got around to telling me
that I had passed.
Now, another break: I was assigned to work for a remarkable engineer. In fact, I reported to him for the next twenty years as both of our responsibilities increased.
By that time, he was the head of the organization. I'll leave the accounts of interesting challenges to another time, but add that during my second twenty years
(actually 19), I reported to another exceptional engineer. It is so rewarding to work for someone you have respect for and compatibility with.
I've written this to show my recognition and appreciation of the breaks that came my way. I may not have given Mother and Dad [Jennie Grace Cool and Victor
Barth] the credit they deserve for insisting that I start college and financing, without question, my schooling.