On June 24th 1936, Saint Johnners were astonished to see a staggeringly large airship –about four times the length of a modern Boeing 747— unexpectedly make a low and slow flight over their city. The Graf Zeppelin blimp named “Hindenburg” was one of the most famous aircraft in the world at the time, and was a favorite among the rich and famous to travel overseas, as well as a propaganda tool of the Nazi government. Less than a year after its trip over Saint John it would explode in a fiery accident, effectively ending the era of airships.
The Hindenburg first appeared that sunny day over Lorneville. The giant airship was incredibly famous at the time, and people in the city poured out of their homes to gawk at it. Phone lines were bogged down as people excitedly called their friends to tell them what they saw.
The Telegraph Journal reported “Horses and cattle, frightened by the dull drone of her motors, as she came by the coast, galloped and ran through the fields trying to get out of the shadow of the giant of the skies, and as the swastika decorated tail fins of the dirigible passed into the distance they stood relieved, watching the monster disappear into the haze.”
The airship’s pass over the city was not expected. While it was very fast at transporting passengers across the ocean, taking only two days to make the journey, The Hindenburg did not have regularly scheduled routes. While it made 17 transatlantic voyages that year to North and South America, it didn’t typically follow consistent paths or destinations.
While the Hindenburg did bear a giant black Nazi swastika on its red tail fin, and was certainly associated with Hitler’s Nazi government in Germany, this was not on the forefront of peoples’ minds as the airship flew over Saint John. As a technological marvel alone, the giant airship had a passionate fan base, and New Brunswickers would have been very aware of it from its appearances on magazine covers and news stories.
Despite its impressively large size, the Hindenburg was surprisingly fast moving. One woman had just called her friend in East Saint John and was excitedly telling her what she saw, when the massive airship came into view outside of her friends window.
The Hindenburg slowed down and turned towards Saint John, slowly passing over the city’s port. From the windows the airship’s passengers watched the city come to a stop, with its people gawking up at them.
The Telegraph Journal recounted the story of one man who saw the giant airship in the sky and excitedly ran into a nearby mechanics shop to tell the staff to come see. The workers, who couldn’t hear him over their machinery, stopped what they were doing, worried some horrible disaster had occurred. After he explained what was flying overhead, all the workers poured out into the street, where they stared in awe at the giant aircraft.
The Hindenburg was not only famous in its own right, but was a favorite among celebrities. Indeed, the ticket prices were so astronomically high that riding it was only affordable to the rich and famous.
The world was still in the midst of The Great Depression. At the worst of it, the unemployment rate in the Maritimes reached a staggering 40%. If people did manage to find work, at the time a good wage for a manual labourer in New Brunswick who worked from dawn to dusk cutting trees would be $1 a day. The cost of a one-way ticket on board the Hindenburg, meanwhile, was a staggering 450 US dollars.
One major celebrity was on board the Hindenburg as it flew above Saint John. Boxing was a major sport at the time, carried across the world on live radio broadcasts. The boxing champion of world had been the American Joe Louis, who was the most famous African-American athlete of his time. Had been, that is, until he had just been defeated by German boxer Max Schmeling, who was on board the Hindenburg returning home after his unexpected victory in New York City.
Saint Johners were aware of the celebrity being aboard the airship that was passing overhead. The Telegraph Journal reported how this captured the imagination of local children: “Kids, just out from school, ran through the streets shouting and waving at the giant German queen of the skies. A pedestrian passing by heard one kid, using his resilient child imagination, declare enthusiastically to another “Gee! It was only 500 feet up, and there was Max Schmeling hanging out a window shouting to me, “Hi there, kid!” ”
The Moncton Daily Times, meanwhile, expressed disappointment that they had not seen the airship as it had turned South when it reached St. Martins. The newspaper enviously reported that “citizens of Saint John climbed to roof to get a plainer view of the unusual sight.”
There was said to be another, darker, use of the Hindenburg, which perhaps explains the slow pass over Saint John’s port. It was sometimes alleged that the German crew photographed Allied port facilities for the German military’s use in the war that would break out three years later…
When the Hindenburg reached Germany, a crowd of thousands greeted it, or more specifically, greeted its famous passenger. Schmeling’s boxing victory had been reported through a racist lens in that country as a demonstration of Aryan superiority by Nazi propaganda.
The Hindenburg’s reign as queen of the skies was short lived. Less than a year after her flight over Saint John, she would have her infamously well documented fiery crash in New Jersey. Many lives were lost in the catastrophic explosion which had been aired live on radio and caught on film, effectively ending the era of lighter than air travel overnight.
Max Schmeling’s reign as boxing champion was also short lived. The boxer, who was touted (against his will) as an example of racial purity and superiority in Nazi propaganda fought a rematch with Joe Louis in 1938.
He was knocked out in the first round.
