Ace Turns Up

The one & only U. S. Navy flier to qualify officially as an "ace" in the War was David Sinton Ingalls, a quizzical, shock-headed grandnephew of William Howard Taft. He left his class at Yale to fly and was 18 years old when the Armistice was signed. Ace Ingalls went back to college with his decorations in his pocket and applied himself to the harder heroics of graduating and getting a law degree. Then he married, was twice a father, practiced law quietly in his native Cleveland, entered the Ohio legislature. Rich, he never returned to France; but proceeded, by interesting himself in all manner of local business and civic enterprises, to make Cleveland his world. Like many another War flier, he flew no more, though instinct obliged him to drive his automobile at unearthly speeds.

Then, as with many another War flier, "air fever" once more laid hold of Ace Ingalls. Last week, news leaked out that he and Heraclio Alfaro, a Cleveland college instructor formerly with the Glenn L. Martin aircraft company in Cleveland, were building a plane of secret design, trying to win the Guggenheim Foundation's $100,000 prize for aeronautical progress. At the same time, people learned that Ace Ingalls was on his hometown Chamber of Commerce's aviation committee, helping to make Cleveland a bigger & better airport. Other retired fliers knew how Ace Ingalls felt when, quizzed by importunate newsgatherers about his new plane, he squinted, smiled and said:

"Well, don't say too much about that, for everybody in Cleveland will be kidding me about it. But I am awfully anxious to get back to flying again. It's much safer than driving an automobile, at least for me. I'd feel safer flying a ship to Columbus* than driving a car. But you know how wives are--"

* Capital of Ohio, where the Legislature meets.