 Since the beginning of time, man has looked to the sky, envying the freedom of the birds, and insatiably curious of the boundless space above him. This is the Smithsonian Institution's National Air and Space Museum facility in Silverhill, Maryland. Here are stored some of the early relics of those bygone days, which chronicle man's early attempts at stretching his wings. Here craftsmen painstakingly restore these relics of the past. During the past few years in cooperation with the Navy, this plane has been completely overhauled, all in accordance with the original specifications and drawings. When the restoration is completed, she will be transported to the mall in Washington, D.C. for celebration of the 50th anniversary of her historic flight. Once it was set of this plane, the machine is impossible and is not likely to be of any use whatever. With America's entry into the First World War, an airplane was conceived to fight in that great conflict. But she won her laurels after the war was ended. This plane was a pathfinder for future air travel across the Atlantic, truly a pioneer, which ushered in a new era in aviation. Although the historic flight of this aircraft was lost in the post-war excitement of the 20s, it will long be remembered as one of this nation's great achievements. Not the sleekest of aircraft. Someone recently complained to the Washington Post that she ugly-fies them all. The man in charge of the first transatlantic group, Commander John Tower said, he thought the design rather queer. But what is beauty? To aviator's successful performance is beauty, particularly when that performance has never been done before. We might dispute its beauty, but not its performance, nor that of its courageous and determined crew. Those who have had a chance to see the interior construction of these wings from these controlled surfaces have seen the most beautiful craftsmanship in featherweight woods. High strength and elasticity in pieces as light as a violinist bow. This airplane, the NC-4, was the first airplane of any nation to fly across any ocean. The flight of the NC-4 in us for Navy, sea is for Curtis, is not entirely unlike the voyage of Columbus or even the flight of the astronauts around the moon. Men reaching for a new horizon, doing something never done before. The NC-4 flying boat was born in the turmoil of World War I, whose belligerence entered the fray like falling dominoes. It was a war won by the side that held out the longest and developed the best technology. So far, every German technical breakthrough had been effectively answered by Allied weapons, all except one. The dreaded Unterseboote, the torpedo-laden German submarine. By the time the United States Navy became active in the Atlantic, a graveyard of sunken hulls had piled up less than 10 miles off the British coasts. President Woodrow Wilson had tried faithfully to keep America on a neutral course. It was the dawning of the 20th century that man learned to fly, and a few short years later, he would learn deadly ways of using the flying machine. Glenn Curtis was the tireless inventor and aviator who worked with the Navy and came up with designs for the Navy Curtis Nancy's, an anti-submarine seaplane of unprecedented size. One that would put the Kaiser's prowling wolf pack on the run, but the central powers were already on the run. After the Marne, Bellowood, Verdun, on November 11th, 1918, all guns fell silent on the western front. Armistice 1918. The world had been saved for democracy. Swords were to be beaten into plowshares. With victory over the Axis, America immediately began dismantling its war industries, and the great anti-submarine seaplane was no longer earmarked for combat. But Secretary of the Navy Daniels ruled that the Navy Curtis flying boats still had a part of their mission to fulfill, the winning of the Atlantic. Factories throughout eastern America worked overtime to produce parts for the mightiest aircraft of the day. There were Liberty Motors from Detroit, Oak Propellers from Washington, wings and tail surfaces from the heart of downtown Manhattan, a wingspan of 126 feet and an overall length of 68 feet, four Liberty Motors pushing and pulling 1,600 horses. Fifty years ago, May the 8th, Lieutenant Commander Albert Cushing Reed and a crew of five left Rockaway Naval Air Station, Long Island, in the NC-4 with two sister flying boats. NC-1 commanded by Lieutenant Commander Pat Bellinger, NC-3 the flagship of the division, commanded by Commander Towers. Months of planning and hard work. It was just after seven in the morning when Navy workmen rolled three airplanes over beachfront rails into the water. As the few on hand watched, the giant machines one by one began their incredible journey. Many different routes had been considered for the flight. The British, who were competing with the Americans to be the first across the Atlantic, were planning to fly directly from Newfoundland to Ireland, a distance of some 1,900 miles. The way chosen by the Americans consisted of several hops along the Great Circle route. The first leg of the trip would be from Rockaway, New York to Halifax, Nova Scotia. From there, they would fly to Trepese Bay in Newfoundland. Trepese Bay would be the last port of call along North American shores. And then they all took off together for the Azores. They started out at night, flew all night, and the next morning when they were meant to spot the Azores, the fog was terribly heavy. Only through a combination of skill, and I think they all admit there was some luck involved, too, that they spotted through a break in the clouds the Azores. The Azores, volcanic dots on the map. End of the 1,300-mile first leg across the Atlantic. It was a Saturday morning when the 20,000-pound monster of wood, metal, and fabric thundered through the sky toward Horta Bay. Lieutenant Commander Albert C. Reed and the NC-4 had made it to the Azores. During the 1,300-mile flight, the Navy had provided 68 destroyers along the flight path. Star shells and search lights were the guides by night, and smoke trails were followed during the day. The trip had taken 16 hours and 49 minutes, and covered the span between the Old World and the New. It was May 17, 1919. Reed had made it. The other two were not so fortunate. Commander John Towers and the NC-3 ran into fog 205 miles west of the Azores. He was forced to land at sea, and the plane was badly damaged. It could no longer fly. Sailing backwards with his men acting as ballast, Towers refused any help and finished the crossing on his own. The NC-1 also landed at sea. The plane sank, however, and the crew was rescued by a passing freighter. Although Towers was the commander of the expedition, Secretary Daniel stood fast in his conviction that Reed should continue as the sole commander of the NC-4. Reed took off on the morning of May 27, for Lisbon, Portugal, and the completion of the Atlantic Crossing, a distance of 800 nautical miles. Lisbon, Portugal, May 27, 1919. For the first time, an aircraft had flown from the American continent to a European shore. Reed radioed back home. We are safely across the pond. The job is finished. It was an epic journey enlisting thousands of men and an ocean chain of ships, but soon it was all but forgotten, eclipsed by later milestone flights. In June 1919, Alcock and Brown flew the first non-stop crossing of the Atlantic. Within eight years, Charles Lindberg would fly the Atlantic alone. But the first men to fly the Atlantic were the pioneer naval aviators aboard the NC-4. The sole surviving crew member of the NC-4, Chief Aviation Machinist, Mate Eugene S. Rhodes, is here today. I'd like to conclude these ceremonies by announcing that the band will now play the NC-4 March, which was composed in 1919 in its honor.