Part I
Walking through Springville, New York’s Maplewood Cemetery, you’ll come across a small headstone marked George N. Schuster. Engraved upon its upper half is an early open-top automobile…three men are riding inside, and from its trunk is mounted an American flag waving in the wind. The stone reads, “Driver of the Thomas Flyer and Winner of the New York to Paris Race.”
Born in Buffalo in 1873, Schuster worked in a bicycle shop before starting a new job at Buffalo’s E.R. Thomas Motor Company in 1902. He began assembling tubular radiators and was later promoted to mechanic. Schuster proved adept at his new position and was overseeing the final assembly of Thomas models. He would even deliver the completed cars to customers, teaching the first-time automobile owners how to operate, maintain, and repair their new autos.
At this point, automobiles were still a relatively new technology. The automobile—which in its absolute earliest form was invented in 1886— and was only the hobby of the rich. In fact, it wouldn’t be until later in 1908, that Henry Ford would introduce the now iconic Model T, the model which was supposed to “democratize” the automobile. So in 1908, Schuster’s abilities as a mechanic really made him a commodity and positioned him into the role for which he would forever be known, the winner of “The Great Race.”
The New York to Paris car race was created and promoted by the Paris Newspaper, Lé Mátan, and cosponsored by the New York Times. The idea for it began as an attempt to surpass the previous year’s 9,317-mile Peking-to-Paris race. This new competition would be more than twice as long as its predecessor and span three continents. The idea captivated the world and was front page news for media outlets the world over.
The 22,000-mile automobile endurance race ran from New York City to Paris, pushing technology and the human spirit to their absolute limits. To that point, there were only a small number of men who had traveled the American continent by car, however, none had done it in winter. We’ll get more into that shortly. Also, we’ll add that in 1908, the average lifespan of a car was 10,000 miles…as in 45% of the total distance for this particular endeavor.
Also, just to get it out the way…every team’s car’s broke down repeatedly, every team cheated, and in no way could this rightfully be called a race.
This international event featured three teams from France along with one from Germany, and another from Italy, but as the competition loomed closer, an American team had yet to enter. The President of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt was a man who—if you’ll remember from a previous podcast, had a penchant for high speed travel. He probably would have entered the race himself had he not been otherwise preoccupied by a slightly more important job. TR was determined to prevent European teams from dominating the race and attempted to put together an American entry.
After other, more established automobile factories—including Buffalo’s own Pierce-Arrow— declined to join, the President looked to another Buffalo brand, the E. R. Thomas Motor Company.
The company’s founder, Edmund Ross Thomas, began—as did many others—in the production of bicycles. In 1900, he switched to the manufacturing of automobiles, which he did at his Niagara Street factory until 1913. Today, the building is owned and operated by Rich Products.
At the last minute, Thomas pulled one of his Model 35s, a 4-cylinder production model with 60 hp, out of its factory and entered it into the race with George Schuster as their mechanic who allegedly only agreed to join in the race if Thomas would offer him a job for life. Joining Schuster was the enormously popular professional driver Monty Roberts and a New York Times correspondent who would report, first hand, from the road…or lack of them.
With the American team, there were now eighteen men in the race representing four countries. There were three French teams: the Moto-Bloc, the De Dion Bouton, and the Sizaire-Nodón, one Italian team: the Brixia Zust, and one German team: the Protos.
The race spanned three continents, traversing terrain with no roads, no gas stations, no streetlights, no AAA, and all of this in the dead of winter with so much of the world blanketed in snow. Oh, and of course, it’s 1908, so no snow plows.
The route would take motorists through continental North America to the Pacific Coast, up to Alaska, across the Bering Strait, through Siberia, across Russia, into Germany before finally arriving in Paris.
Now, I’m sure by this point, you have a lot of questions…. But let me explain. This particular route would allow the motorists to drive nearly the entire route—even across the water. The logic being that during certain months of the year, the Bering Strait freezes over, effectively creating an ice road on which to drive. However, that would require the participating teams to drive through the winter so they could reach the waterway before it thawed for the summer. That’s right, this impossible race would start in February, the absolute dead of winter with the teams driving north—into more bad weather, and then into Siberia. So, what could go wrong?
To fully appreciate the magnitude of this endeavor, I want to take a second to talk about what the conditions would have been like for these drivers. Each of the six cars in this race were open, as in, none of them had hard top roofs and were exposed to the elements. Additionally, the cars had no heaters and the Thomas Flyer did not have a windshield. Again, dead of winter, crossing literally frozen tundra, no roof, no heater, and no windshield. Also, since there weren’t gas or service stations every few miles, teams would have to carry along extra gasoline and supplies piled high on the back of their already crowded and freezing cars.
Unlike the other cars which had been built for this race, the Thomas Flyer was a road car that had no special features to prepare it for the impossible task ahead. There were only a few modifications that could be made beforehand, such as equipping it with three extra gasoline tanks that had a total capacity of 125 gallons and, in an effort to provide at least some protection from the elements, a rudimentary canvas convertible top.
On February 12, an estimated 250,000 people gathered at New York City’s Times Square to witness the historic event. Originally scheduled to begin at 11 a.m., with then Mayor George B. McClellan Jr., (son of the Union Civil War general) firing the starting pistol, but…he was late. At 11:15, out of frustration, railroad financier and automobile club president Colgate Hoyt took the golden gun and shot it into the air signaling the start of the race annnndddd the teams were off.
Almost immediately, the winter weather became an issue for the cars.
The race’s first casualty occured only 96 miles into the race when August Pons, driver of the French Sizaire-Naudin, withdrew due to a broken differential, but the inclement weather certainly did not help the situation. The remaining cars braved the snow of upstate New York using a variety of tactics. Near Utica, the roadways were covered in snow drifts Schuster was forced to walk alongside the Flyer measuring the snow depth and laying wooden planks for the car to drive over to prevent it sinking into the snow.
Outside of Auburn, NY, it took the cars 4 hours and 45 minutes to travel the 16 miles into the city due to the cars repeatedly sinking into the mud. In fact, the crews were forced to manually dig the cars out. Only four days into the race, the cars were an estimated two days and seven hours behind schedule.
On February 16th, after promising “Buffalo or Bust,” the Thomas Flyer entered Buffalo making it the first arrival after what had been its best day of travel to date… 110 miles in seven and a half hours making their average speed 13 miles per hour. Though the conditions allowed the drivers to make better time, the winds and sustained exposure to the elements took their toll on the drivers. The wind whipped so violently in the Flyer that Schuster held his hands up to the left side of Monty Robert’s face to protect his eyes from the cold wind.
As they entered Buffalo, they were met with a band in Williamsville playing Hail Columbia to celebrate their arrival. Though they had only intended on passing through, a flat tire required them to make a pit stop, thereby allowing the band to finish their song- much to Schuster’s annoyance. The delay further allowed a caravan of 20 automobiles decorated with flags from the Pierce Arrow and Thomas factories to accompany the Flyer the rest of the way into the city.
Crowds had just begun assembling when the Flyer arrived in the city earlier than expected. A reception was held at the Iroquois Hotel where E. R. Thomas himself offered his factory and the full services of his staff to repair all the cars in the race. Buffalo’s large Italian community was in full force to welcome the Italian Zust and its team, and about 500 people kept vigil at the Iroquois Hotel until 2am when the car finally arrived. Meanwhile, the French DeDion team was disappointed when they arrived in the city, after discovering that they would have to travel further west before they would get to meet an actual Buffalo.
By February 19th, just one week into the race, the American team was in Toledo, Ohio, where crowds of people lined the streets to welcome them just as they had done in Buffalo. According to an account in the Fort Wayne Sentinel, American Driver Montague Roberts left Toledo en route to Chicago at 9am “plowing his way through eight inches of snow.” “
Ten minutes after his departure, the French team arrived. They checked in and left at once in hot pursuit of the Americans. The cars headed west, driving the rest of the way through Ohio in a blinding snowstorm on their way to Waterloo, Indiana.
The next day, the Americans passed through Corunna, Indiana on their way to Kendallville. Papers reported that, of the twelve miles stretching between the towns, seven were virtually impassable due to massive snow drifts. They added that farmers along the way practically shoveled the entire route for the team… well the American team that is.
In fact, along the route, many Americans had been eager to help the team of the Thomas Flyer, but had been less supportive of their European counterparts. In many places, the same support and supplies which had been offered freely to the Americans came at a cost to the Europeans. Out of frustration, the Moto-Blonc team sent a letter to the president of the Chicago Automobile Club asking them to intervene on their behalf and improve public sentiment for them. In their letter, they cited several instances of the “injustice” they faced and requested essentially some “good press.”
The Chicago Automobile Club took the request quite literally and forwarded the letter to the Chicago Tribune… who in turn, printed their letter word for word under the title: “FOREIGNERS’ PATHETIC APPEAL”:
“We are discouraged,” the note began. “The peasants demand $3 per mile for helping us. Here at New Carlisle they charged $5 each to permit us to sleep on the ground. Peasants along the way have filled up the road dug by leading cars, so as to help the Thomas car. They make us hire as many horses as they please, so they can get as much money out of us as they can. We are broke and disgusted. Want you to intervene in our protection. Await responses. Would it be possible to influence public opinion to aid us?”
The Chicago Automobile Club did send aid to the foreign cars as it was the sportsmanly thing to do. But, unsurprisingly, their appeal did little to improve their image amongst the American “peasants”.
By early March, as Schuster and the American car reached Lexington, Nebraska, dissension was in the ranks amongst the Germans. Still in Chicago, two of the crewmembers decided to quit the race and return to Europe. Its driver was now accompanied by O.W. Snyder…a Chicago resident who was chosen to fill in for the remainder of the race.
As a moment of levity to which we in the northeast can all relate, the driver for the French Sizaire team which had quit the race complained about the roads to the Los Angeles Times, saying, “the American roads are inconceivably bad and that even in the Eastern states, the roads are full of quagmires and gullies.” He added, “I don’t believe any of my comrades will finish the course, though, once beyond the United States, they may find better roads in Alaska and Siberia.”
As the Thomas Flyer reached Cheyenne, Wyoming, driver Monty Roberts decided to leave the car so he could participate in the French Grand Prix. His plan was to let the rest of his team drive through Alaska and Siberia into Europe, where he would rejoin them to drive the Flyer into Paris. That meant Schuster would be doing double duty as lead driver and mechanic.
Though it put more pressure on Schuster, the change was ultimately to the American’s benefit. Schuster’s determination was unparalleled. Even after driving the car all day, he would spend the evenings walking for miles to find supplies and gasoline or repairing the car’s damage and preparing it for the following day. His knowledge of the Flyer kept the car running through blizzards, freezing temperatures, and sandstorms. But, because he lacked the name recognition and appeal of Monty Roberts, he was often overlooked by the newspapers who frequently misspelled his name if they even bothered to mention him at all.
Though the brunt of the endeavor fell on Schuster, a strange confluence of events in Colorado prevented the American team from being short on drivers. Following a fight that nearly resulted in a duel, Hans Hendrick Hansen, a Norwegian engineer and Arctic expert, was fired from the French De Dion team after failing to free them from a particularly nasty snowdrift. “I could go afoot over the Siberian route and beat the De Dion car,” Hansen said, as he joined the American team and pledged his allegiance to the flag and his talents to the defeat of his former teammates.
As the Flyer left Wyoming, it had a solid two state lead. The Italians were just entering Nebraska and the French De Dion was paused in Iowa, awaiting parts for the car. The Protos and the Moto-Bloc were behind– just approaching Iowa. Now, as I said before, they were taking some real liberties calling this a “race” but this is really where they push it to the limit…
The Moto-Bloc was having some serious mechanical trouble, so much so, their ability to carry on was in question. So, Charles Godard, the lead driver, got a crazy idea. He was going to ship his car, by train, to San Francisco. Now, even in a race where the rules are made up and the points don’t matter, this was a violation. In fact, it was pretty much the only rule of the race that each car had to travel the entire distance under its own power. But he was desperate and somehow thought he could get away with it? Anyway, his plan came to a grinding halt when a photographer started taking photographs of what was clearly the Moto-Bloc poorly disguised on a train car. The photos caused immediate outrage and Godard received a cable from the owners of his car: “Quit race, sell car and come home.” And with that, only four cars remained.
By the middle of March, the Americans had driven all the way to Utah and were making great time toward the west coast. By the 24th, the Thomas was in San Francisco and had extended its lead to nearly 1,200 miles. While Schuster was in California, the second-place Zust had broken down and had to be shipped to the next stop. The De Dion was in Granger, Wyoming—1,400 miles behind and the Protos trailing even further behind.
With a healthy lead, the Americans next leg wouldn’t be by road, but rather by sea. On April 1st, the steamship, Santa Clara, would take the team north to Valdez, Alaska…I’ll remind you that it’s March 24th, we’re in the middle of a race, and the leading American team now has to sit tight for a week as they wait for a ride. In case it hasn’t already been made clear, calling this competition a race is taking some real semantical liberties.
On Thursday, April 9, having arrived in Veldez, Alaska by ship, the American team was eager to scout the route to Nome upon which they were to travel. After a welcome consisting of nearly the entire town and a brief reception, the men set out on a sled pulled by a single-horse. After traveling only a short distance, it became all too clear to the team that the trail would be impassable for an automobile. The only way they could cross Alaska would be to disassemble the cars and have the parts pulled by dog sled.
The Elmira Star-Gazette reported, “Had the Americans reached Alaska, they might have had some slight chance of success. The early thaw ruined what chances there were. The upper crust of snow that was depended upon to support the machine has been softened so that it will hardly hold a sledge. An automobile wouldn’t be able to move a foot over the huge drifts that are rapidly melting.
I just want to take a moment to remind you that the ONLY reason these seven cars had attempted to cross the continental United States in the dead of winter was so that they could drive across the frozen Bering Strait. Which was now completely impossible. So the one thing that this entire impossible race hinged on would now not even be part of the race. Got it.
The Thomas team returned to Valdez and, in a rare moment of serendipity, found that the steamer, Bertha, was about to set sail. The ship would bring them south to Seattle. There, they would reunite once more with the French and Italian teams which were headed there from San Francisco.
Now, I think we can all agree that the circumstances facing the Americans were shady at best…back in Buffalo, E.R. Thomas felt that way as well. On April 17th, one week after the Alaska debacle, Thomas claimed the cup on behalf of his team and his country.
In a formal statement published in the Le Matin and the New York Times, Thomas wrote: “The conditions of the New York to Paris race required each contestant to go across the American continent under its own power to San Francisco and thence proceed by steamer to Valdez, Alaska…via Seattle to continue the race from Valdez overland to Nome. Should the cars find it impossible to go the whole route overland from Valdez, the car going furthest north is entitled to the cup.”
Thomas continued in his appeal, describing the great loss in time his team had incurred by their trip to Alaska—a venture which no other teams would have to endure. He stated that the Thomas team would continue in the competition, for the sake of racing itself, though again, the cup, he claimed, was already theirs. And, not to pile on or anything, he added that the Americans, in addition to having allegedly already won the race, should receive a time allowance of at least fourteen days for their lost time….because, you know…Alaska.
Now, when Schuster and his team made it back to Seattle, they learned that their French and Italian rivals had boarded a steamer three days earlier, traveling first to Yokohama, Japan, and then on to Siberia. Soon, the Americans boarded their own, slower steamer, on route to Yokohama. Despite being the first team to reach the west coast, the Americans were now the last team to set sail. Given the lead that the Americans had established on their trek across the US, the race committee decided that the French and Italian teams would have to wait for the Americans once they arrived in Vladivostok, Russia. Once all three teams had reunited, they would depart together…bit of a mulligan for past mistakes which would hopefully make for a more climactic final 10,000 miles across Asia and Europe.
Lindsey Lauren Visser 