Edgar S. Smith was a senior at Glendale High when he saw Roy Knabenshue pilot the California Arrow over Los Angeles. It was February of 1905 and few people anywhere were more than vaguely aware that a couple of bicycle mechanics in Dayton had laid claim to the invention of a man-carrying flying machine heavier than the air it displaced. No one in Southern California had seen any real flying until Knabenshue arrived from Ohio with his Baldwin dirigible. It was 52 feet long and had a 5 hp Curtis two-cylinder motorcycle engine driving a six foot tractor propeller. Under ideal conditions the craft could do over 20 miles per hour.

A race was staged between the California Arrow and a Pope-Toledo, reputedly one of the fastest touring cars on the road. The starting point was Chutes Park in downtown Los Angeles and the finish line was on the grounds of the Hotel Raymond in Pasadena, some ten miles distant. The airship covered the course in half an hour, beating the car by nearly two minutes. It made front-page headlines. KInabenshue was much in the news thereafter and his exploits, even more than those of the Wrights, put thoughts of air travel in the minds of Southern Californians.

Profoundly impressed, young Edgar could think of little but freeing himself from the age-old shackles that made men earthbound. The question was how to go about it with a teenager's meager resources. Airships like the California Arrow cost many thousands of dollars and Smith's pockets jingled with little. At this juncture he took his cue, as had the Wrights a decade earlier, from Octave Chanute. The kindly old gentleman, then in his 77th year, had engineered a biplane hang glider. The craft had been widely publicized and the plans published in Popular Mechanics. Edgar, a strapping 170 pounder, reasoned that if the Chanute glider was a good flier with two pairs of wings it ought to be better with three. He devised a triplane and built it in the family woodshed in Glendale.

The craft was essentially a huge box kite with a wing cellule spanning 16 feet. The centrally located mainplane, featuring 6 foot extensions set at a high angle of dihedral, gave an overall span of just under 30 feet. A boom tail carried the cruciform empennage. The entire contrivance of linen-covered wood and wire weighed no more than 60 lbs. There were no controls. The pilot, having launched himself by running down a hill, was supposed to steer by shifting his weight fore and aft or sideways, depending on the desired direction.

The Aero Club of California, founded in Los Angeles in 1908, staged an aeronautical exhibition in the stadium at Fiesta Park, May 1909. The event, one of the first of its kind ever held in the United States, drew more than a dozen exhibitors from all over the state. Starry-eyed inventors eagerly explained the inner workings of their creations, many of which were presented in scale model form. All were largely untested. There were several conveyances with butterfly wings. The only full-size passenger carriers were three captive balloons, a helicopter of dubious capability and a half dozen gliders. Of the latter, Edgar Smith's showed the most promise.

Dick Ferris' balloon, the American made frequent ascentions with passengers opening day, but high winds kept most of the other craft securely anchored to the ground. It was probably just as well. Smith was determined to fly, however, and arranged to be towed aloft by automobile, there being no slopes in Fiesta Park. The craft was rigged with tow line and Smith stationed himself in the space provided between the wings. He cradled the longerons with his forearms and took a firm hold of the interplane bracing. A gusty wind was blowing and the bucking triplane, already supporting its own weight had to be restrained by a crewman on each wing tip. Smith waited for a lull, then signaled the driver to release the clutch. The car lurched forward jerking Smith from his feet.

A second attempt, resulted in Smith being dragged along the stadium grounds for some distance on his derriere. Neither the triplane nor its would be pilot were harmed, however, and the next attempt would be more successful. Smith made a short hop without mishap. Later attempts were even more rewarding. The triplane soared for some distance at a height of 10 feet or better. The crowd, warming to the fledgling's pluck and perseverance, cheered him on as the star performer. The Sunday Times featured a four column photo of Smith in actual flight. His 200 foot hop that day represented the greatest achievement of the meet in terms of horizontal flight. Van M. Griffith, also piloting a hang glider was the runner up.

The Aero Club exhibition led to the first real flying meet ever held in the United States. Prior to that time the mere presence of anyone with a flying machine was enough to draw a crowd and such exhibition flying as had been seen was of the noncompetitive variety. By 1910, however, simply getting off the ground was not enough at the box office. The public wanted a demonstration of the relative merits of airmen and their machines. Promoter, Dick Ferris, himself a balloonist, raised a purse of $80,000. It was sufficient inducement to attract some of the leading fliers of the day, including Glenn Curtiss and Tom Baldwin. An eleven-day program was slated to open January 10th. The site selected was a tract of ranch land south of Los Angeles called Dominguez Plain. The event became international in character with news that Louis Paulhan, Didier Masson and Charles Miscarol were coming from France. Lincoln Beachey entered his airship, as did Knabenshue, who was billed as the Wright brothers' representative. Toward the bottom of a list of 58 applicants was the name of Edgar S. Smith. Glendale's teenage birdman had entered the yet-to-be Dragonfly