Letters To The Editor
Of Phineas Pinkham and Bill Barnes
The May 1985 issue of Model Aviation arrived, and with great expectations I looked for Bill Winter's comments regarding Phineas Pinkham. Alas... I beg to differ with his sources. What follows is based on an unimpeachable source (i.e., Joe Archibald) and is fully documented.
While I do not know the particulars of Phineas Pinkham's demobilization, shortly thereafter he did get into his own business. For 25 years up to about 1946, Phineas had not cooled his ardor for fooling the gullible; mute evidence of this fact being a small lucrative trick-novelty business that bore his name in Cedar Rapids.
He did marry; his wife's name was Bessie.
Phineas had a son, Elmer. I have no information regarding any other children. Elmer served in WWII, but that service was in England. Also, he flew B-17s. "One night we took off in the B-17s to bomb Cologne," Elmer yelped. "His plane was called Bertha's Bustle." While in England Elmer also learned some of his dad's antics in Le Guerre. Seems there was a French girl, Babette, that Phineas tried to stow away on a transport comin' home.
While I have no information on his wife, Bessie (other than that she had a retrousse nose), I do have a description of Elmer: "His hair was the color of dried corn husks, and it grew on his noggin in stiff straight bristles like a toothbrush. He had wide, washed-out blue eyes that seemed forever surprised, and his nose was retrousse like his ma's. All the freckles he had, and the ears, had inherited a set of teeth that were nearly too big for his oral cavity."
In or about 1946, using the lion's share of the proceeds from the trick-novelty business, Phineas and his son Elmer began Flying Carpet Airlines at Bagdad, Iowa. Their motto: "We fly anything, anybody, anywhere. The sky is the limit." They had a cow pasture bulldozed into the semblance of an airport; it had an administration building the size of a two-car garage, one runway, some gas tanks, and floodlights.
Phineas Pinkham's own description of those post-WWII years is available: "Father Time had not strafed Phineas badly. He had a little too much soot around his meridian and a sprinkling of borax at his temples. His thinning hair, for the most part, was still the color of birch dust, and his unpretty physiognomy still had as many spots on it as the late Al Capone's record."
Phineas also belonged to the American Legion, being commander of Post 77, Boonetown, Iowa.
As I mentioned, these are fully documented facts. I think it important that, for those of us who can recall Phineas Pinkham, you set the record straight.
Ed Hunter Armory, MS
If you promise not to tell anyone, Phineas lives in the retirement community of Sun City Center, Florida. He has assumed a new identity given him by the same firm that employed George Haight as a part-time spy.
Herb Sun City Center, FL
This matter concerns Bill Winter's column in the May 1985 Model Aviation. "Mr. R" gave Bob Horner some inaccurate information about Phineas Pinkham. Carbuncle's son probably didn't say "Haw Haw." He probably just said "Haw," like Carbuncle himself. I remember reading those stories by Joe Archibald—Herr Dresser, Flight Leader—as if I'd read them yesterday. You made my month.
Barney Frommer White Plains, NY
I must contest the report that Bill Barnes was killed in an automobile accident in 1952 ("Just For The Fun Of It," April 1985). The name is a fairly common one, and it may have been another individual. In fact, there used to be an airline pilot in Florida with the same name around that time. What's more, I have two letters in my possession from the late Frank Tinsley dated February 1956 and December 1956. If Bill had been killed, I'm sure Mr. Tinsley would have mentioned it.
Encouraged by Mr. Tinsley, I set about to design a free-flight version of Bill's famous super-plane, the Silver Lancer. Prior to submitting the plans to then-Editor Al Lewis, I interviewed Bill for his suggestions on my model. His only comment was that, perhaps, it would have been more authentic to show a diesel rather than a glow engine. It is possible that the man I met was a double, since this was a common practice to protect Bill from his many enemies. I didn't, of course, ask for his identification.
At any rate, the plans were inked by the late Paul Plecan and published in the November 1961 issue of American Modeler. This is a matter of record. The transcript of the interview, unfortunately, was not published. Since Street & Smith sold out to Condé Nast about that time, I doubt if the original manuscript would still be available for substantiation.
Mr. Tinsley passed away on June 24, 1965, and Al Lewis is no longer with us, so I am no longer able to ask them to corroborate this.
However, with the help of pulp authority Will Murray, I was invited to a Bill Barnes birthday party in November of 1984. The party also celebrated the 80th birthday of George L. Eaton (Charles Spain, "Chuck" Verral). The three-story townhouse in which the party was held was jammed, so I was unable to get close to Bill or Shorty. From a distance, however, it did seem as if they were well preserved, considering their birth dates (Bill 1910, Shorty 1896). I had to leave early, but I did get to talk to Sandy, who still looks 16 going on 17. The party was reported in The New York Times, November 9, 1984, and in the March 1985 issue of Model Builder, page 95.
The next day, I was able to spend the morning talking to Chuck Verral about Bill. His third-floor den contains many documents and items pertaining to Bill Barnes, including original art by Frank Tinsley. I understood Chuck to say that he and Bill played tennis almost every Saturday.
Incidentally, I am trying to convince Mr. Verral to donate the Bill Barnes, Tinsley, and Air Trails items to the AMA Museum. However, if you continue to misspell his name (only one "l") and to spread unfounded rumors about his best friend, I am afraid it will be a lost cause.
I must also correct some other misinformation in the article: the Barnes operation was not shut down in 1938. It was suspended at the end of March 1939. The real reason for this was that Bill had what is now known as hypoglycemia. This came about as a result of taking off on combat with a breakfast of orange juice and toast washed down with coffee. This is a sure way to "burn out" your adrenals and "clobber" your pancreas. The field physician, Dr. Humphries, grounded him.
Bill's R&R was short-lived, however. When Hitler bombed Poland in September of 1939, Bill was asked by agents Morton and Drake to once again be a special agent for the U.S. government.
Mr. Verral was again appointed to chronicle the events, which he did from the fall of 1939 through 1943. Mr. Verral was severely limited at this time as to what he could report. He was able to mention Bill's work in thwarting the Japanese infiltration in the Aleutians, and the air action in the Philippines. Not many people are aware of this period, because the chronicles were concealed in the back of Doc Savage magazine.
If the mysterious "Mr. R" is who I think he is ("the Shadow" knows), he, along with "T" and "W-N," may have given Bill his start. However, the only person who is authorized to report on Bill's demise is George L. Eaton, AKA C.S. Verral, who now holds the copyrights to Bill's future.
Bill Barnes killed in an automobile accident? No way! The next thing I know, you will try to tell me that Glenn Miller was killed in a plane crash!
Bill Barnes lives!
Bud Overn Santa Ana, CA
Great men like Barnes are legends. Bill was "seen" at a gas station in Elcino, at a Lake Charles Nats, and at a Safeway supermarket in North Platte. Truth must be faced. On that fateful day in 1952, the great pilot foolishly ventured out in a red Volkswagen van in near-hurricane conditions. His demise was covered up by the CIA due to a planned highly sensitive mission to the Near East which could have brought lasting peace to the region. Even The New York Times reluctantly deleted his obit. Since Frank Tinsley, retired, was happy as the mayor of a New England town, friends hid news of the sad event which would have broken his heart. Yes, that party in a New York townhouse was reported in the papers. Bud Overn may not be aware that Barnes had an identical twin; perhaps it was he who thwarted the Japanese in the Aleutians. Until that secret file at the Pentagon is declassified, my lips are sealed.
Shorty and Sandy at the party? One might see things after the happy consumption of that colorless, odorless liquid with olives on toothpicks. A butler whispered to the man from The New Yorker that, for old time's sake, the Russian-like liquid was actually the Barnes secret engine coolant drained through loaves of white bread (Pepperidge family size) stood on end to remove any toxic agent. Perhaps it will be news to Bud that the real Sandy always wore a green silk shirt, the first three buttons open to reveal a tattoo of the Stormer. His Sandy wore a polka-dot tie that night—doesn't square. Having been visited by a soft-spoken FBI type, and that still-secret file, I can say no more. Editor-Publisher Wheeler has been firmly advised by that same operator not to publish another word about Barnes. The case is closed.
Since I personally edited Chuck Verral's copy (as George L. Eaton), I will sign an affidavit that Chuck shared that chore on an alternate-month basis with Harold Montanye. Bud Overn and Chuck, and all the others, will be remiss if Monty is forgotten. He was my pal. Bill playing tennis? Gosh, even Chuck can't tell the brothers apart.
Bill Winter Fairfax, VA
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
