In 1937, newsreel execs were invited to basically tell how they tried to kill their camera crews out on an assigned story. Walter Bredin, the assignment editor for Hearst Metrotone let Charlie Mack relate how he almost bought the farm twice on one story in his submission.

The story that Mack writes about took place ten years earlier on September 6, 1927 during an attempt by aviators Lloyd Bertaud and James Hill to cross the Atlantic on a non-stop flight to Rome.

Mack was assigned to cover flight because that particular transatlantic attempt was sponsored by William Randolph Hearst to promote one of his newspapers. The sole passenger aboard “Old Glory” in addition to the two pilots was a New York Daily Mirror editor by the name of Phillip Payne.

While Mack and his pilot survived their twice brush with death, the plane they were chasing ended up being overweight and “Old Glory” crashed into the Atlantic off the coast of Newfoundland with all aboard lost.

“Pilots Bertaud and Hill of “Old Glory” decided to take off for Old Orchard, Maine. I was instructed to follow in another ship. Passing over Boston, I lost “Old Glory” in the dark. Bertaud had advised me that a bonfire would be lighted on the beach to guide us in landing, so we continued on. We flew for an hour or so and started guessing where we were located. We had an idea that Old Orchard was near, but we didn’t see the fire. In the distance a beacon was flashing. We decided to fly to it and get our bearings and maybe a landing field.

When we came over the beacon, Bill Hammond, the pilot, cut the motor and started circling for some identification mark which we found quickly in the form of rock and water. We were over Portland light and using it to land by. The gas was getting low and we had to get down promptly. We decided to return to the stretch of beach that was fairly well lighted with boardwalk lamps. We were coming in swell. Bill was holding the ship right along the water edge so that the landing would be on the hard sand. Just about five feet over the field, a couple girls started to run right in the plane’s path. Hammond couldn’t see them as he was watching the water, so I had to wave him over and he set the plane down on the softest sand on the beach. In landing both tires burst, the landing gear was bent and the tail skid was ripped off, but we were okay. The two girls came over to the ship and, after telling them what a couple idiots they were and how nearly they came to having their ears cut off, we asked where we were and to our surprise they said Old Orchard Beach and that “Old Glory” had landed one-half hour ago.

The following morning “Old Glory” was to take off. We had to be in the air ahead of them. We climbed into our ship and started on the beach. I noticed the ship getting closer and closer to the water’s edge. We hugged the top of the water for about 100 feet when a big roller caught our landing gear and into the brink we went. I got out of the cockpit as quickly as possible and started looking for the pilot, but he had released himself and was looking for me. He didn’t have a scratch on hum, but my knees were badly bruised from going through the gas tank. The plane was a complete washout. Bertaud, Hill and passenger Phil Payne called the flight of “Old Glory” off for the day. All three warned me against flying in ships that weren’t safe. The next day they took off, and that was the last heard of them.”