The Philadelphia Inquirer (TNS) by Rosa Cartagena
Inside the Franklin Institute, a science museum in Philadelphia, a priceless airplane created by the Wright brothers stands tall and has been there for nearly a century. Prior to being put on display, the 1911 Wright Model B Flyer completed 748 safe flights, flying through the skylines of Philadelphia and around the statue of William Penn in Center City.
Grover Cleveland Bergdoll, its famous owner and playboy troublemaker, was the billionaire son of a wealthy Philadelphia brewer who had learnt to fly from Orville Wright. In 1912, Bergdoll’s mother, Emma Bergdoll, purchased him a two-seat flier, which he used to frighten the Philadelphia populace with his dangerous aerial feats. Bergdoll was known for speed racing and breaching the law.
However, by 1933, the plane was one of numerous abandoned cars at a Delaware County machine shop, collecting rust and dust. While Bergdoll was hiding in Germany as a fugitive after he had fled police custody for avoiding the draft, looters had stolen its engine and minor parts.
When Bergdoll’s flier was displayed at the Franklin Institute two years later, the priceless relic is today regarded as one of the best-preserved aircraft of its type.
Citing a letter Bergdoll made transferring title to museum volunteer William H. Sheahan, a member of the local aviation club with whom he previously flew, the museum has insisted for decades that the aircraft was a gift from Bergdoll.
However, Bergdoll’s granddaughter Lesley Gamble and daughter Katharina, both of whom reside in Virginia, reject that assertion today. They now think that the plane was stolen and purchased by the Franklin Institute without Bergdoll’s consent, despite their earlier belief that the museum’s tale was accurate.
A missing document
The suspicions of the family were sparked last year when Tim Lake, a veteran Philadelphia news anchor, approached them while conducting research for his book “The Bergdoll Boys.” Given that Bergdoll’s assets had been seized by the U.S. government in 1921 and were no longer regarded as his property after his conviction for desertion, Lake had noticed that there was not much information about the donor on display and was interested in how the museum could have acquired the flyer’s title.
After contacting the Franklin Institute for months to inquire about the origin of the Wright brothers’ aircraft and to view Bergdoll’s letter, Lake was informed that museum staff were unable to locate it.
Finally, when Lake pressed them once more prior to publication in April 2023, curatorial and assistant director of collections Susannah Carroll acknowledged that the museum did not have a signed paperwork from Bergdoll about the gift. Carroll wrote that a verbal agreement was used to transfer ownership instead.
“At this time, we have not turned up anything signed by Mr. Bergdoll mentioning his gift, despite the overwhelming circumstantial evidence of Mr. Bergdoll’s gift of the Wright Model B airplane to The Franklin Institute,” she wrote, adding that Lake should understand why neither he nor The Institute would want anything in writing to document the oral gift. Bergdoll was still at large, and the government had seized and was still seizing his assets.
She added that when the present was originally displayed in 1935, the family did not question it. Carroll noted that neither Mr. Bergdoll, his mother Emma, nor his wife Berta ever claimed any ownership of the airplane, asserted that a legitimate gift had not been given, or asked for its return between 1935 (when the aircraft was placed on public display) and his death in 1966.
Naturally, that conversation simply raised additional queries. According to Lake, it was a total reversal of the justification they had given the public for the purchase of the aircraft for the previous ninety years, with no supporting data.
That Sheahan was able to get in touch with Bergdoll in 1933 and persuade him to say, “Oh, yeah, you can have my airplane,” just seems unbelievable to me.
The Bergdoll family and Lake question how the museum could have morally accepted such an antique without the owner’s paperwork. Katharina Bergdoll remarked, “I had foolishly assumed that the way they acquired items was aboveboard.” I think it’s quite suspicious.
She claims that the museum owes them a public apology, reparations, and some money to make up for our loss.
Bergdoll and his family had previously denied that the jet was a valid donation, the museum said in a statement to The Inquirer. Regarding the existence of a letter from Bergdoll, the Franklin Institute remained silent.
The government never attempted to retrieve the aircraft in or after 1921 as part of its seizure of Bergdoll’s assets, which further validated his gift, the statement said, adding that it was well known that the aircraft has been at The Franklin Institute since 1934. His daughter’s motivation is evident from her latest claim and her emphasis on getting paid. As Mr. Bergdoll always desired, we will carry on his legacy by telling the world about the Wright brothers and his role in it.
In 2001, the Franklin Institute displayed the Wright brothers’ 1911 Model B airplane. (The Philadelphia Inquirer/TNS/April Saul)TNS
Preserving history
Although Bergdoll’s motivations are unclear today, his family thinks it’s doubtful that he would have donated the flyer to charity because he was a bit possessive. According to his daughter, he was not naturally giving.
According to Lake, Sheahan made the decision to save a piece of history after learning about the plane’s rotting state at that shuttered machine shop, possibly from an article in the Inquirer that revealed its contents on October 8, 1933. According to Lake, the timing was also ideal because the Franklin Institute, which had failed to acquire the Wright Flyer in 1903 (which went to the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum), needed a centerpiece attraction for its hall of aviation as it prepared to open its new building on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway.
Gamble, the granddaughter, stated, “I believe they exploited the fact that Grover Cleveland Bergdoll was on the run.”
According to Lake, Sheahan must have known that if someone didn’t salvage the aircraft, vandals would pull it apart and it would be gone forever. They performed a heroic act in saving the aircraft, restoring it, and relocating it to the museum, where the Franklin Institute has been taking excellent care of it for the past 90 years or more.
As an art historian, Gamble acknowledges that it might have been a laudable objective, but she also cites instances of organizations stealing priceless treasures under the pretext of preservation all across the world. She feels that the museum should be open and held responsible if it received the flyer illegally, even if it presents an ethical conundrum.
The family believes that the Franklin Institute erased Bergdoll’s legacy and his little role in aviation history, which is part of the harm. The reason for separating the flyer from the donor was probably because of Bergdoll’s reputation as a notorious draft dodger, whom Lake referred to as the most loathed man in America. The Bergdoll name was formerly painted on an underwing of the plane, and has since been removed; now his daughter believes it should be restored.
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