America's first international air meet was held January 10-20, 1910, in Los Angeles on a mesa called Dominguez Hill, situated 13.5 miles south of the plaza at the pueblo of Los Angeles. Enthusiasm for aviation grew after the first international air meet in 1909 in Rheims, France, where American aviator Glenn H. Curtiss won three prestigious speed prizes and 36,000 francs. An even more spectacular air meet, which would also invigorate the local economy, was promoted for Los Angeles. Businessman Dick Ferris, the Los Angeles Merchants and Manufacturers Association, and the Los Angeles Examiner collaborated to make it possible. Most Americans had never seen the newfangled machines that soared in the skies. Initially skeptical, they soon were awed. So began America's love affair with aviation. The air meet influenced aviation in Southern California and transportation worldwide into the 21st century.

America's first international air meet was held January 10-20, 1910, in Los Angeles on a mesa called Dominguez Hill, situated 13.5 miles south of the plaza at the pueblo of Los Angeles. Enthusiasm for aviation grew after the first international air meet in 1909 in Rheims, France, where American aviator Glenn H. Curtiss won three prestigious speed prizes and 36,000 francs. An even more spectacular air meet, which would also invigorate the local economy, was promoted for Los Angeles. Businessman Dick Ferris, the Los Angeles Merchants and Manufacturers Association, and the Los Angeles Examiner collaborated to make it possible. Most Americans had never seen the newfangled machines that soared in the skies. Initially skeptical, they soon were awed. So began America's love affair with aviation. The air meet influenced aviation in Southern California and transportation worldwide into the 21st century.

Eugene Burton Ely was buried the day after his 25th birthday, less than a half-mile from where he was born. No sooner had he captured the world's eye and gained the fame he sought, than he crashed into the earth. Until 1911, the last year of his life, hardly anyone knew his name. More than a century later, nothing has changed. An Iowa farm boy afraid of heights, Ely was the first to land an airplane on the deck of a ship. To some, he is the father of naval aviation, the inspiration behind today's nuclear aircraft carriers--but many details of his life have been lost until now. This book seeks to fill this void.

In A Connected Metropolis Maxwell Johnson describes Los Angeles’s rise in the early twentieth century as catalyzed by a series of upper-class debates about the city’s connections to the outside world. By focusing on specific moments in the city’s development when tensions over Los Angeles’s connections, or lack thereof, emerged, Johnson ties each movement to two or three contemporary figures who influenced the debates at hand. The elites’ previous efforts to secure nationwide and global connections for Los Angeles were wildly successful following World War II. As a result, the city became a landing spot for African American migrants, Cambodian and Laotian refugees, and Mexican and Central American immigrants. Johnson argues that the city’s history is more defined by external relationships than previously understood, and those relationships have given the history of the city more continuity than originally recognized. At the turn of the twentieth century, the politics of connection revolved around initiatives to tie Los Angeles to other places both tangibly and metaphorically. Elites built tangible connections to secure, among other things, the water that irrigated the citrus farms of Los Angeles, the capital that propelled its businesses, and the people who migrated from the Midwest to buy its houses. To build metaphorical connections that located the city amid transcontinental and trans-Pacific movements, elites themselves often transcended nearby borders and pursued connections at will. Los Angeles stood as a focal point for elite ambitions, a place with a more ambivalent relationship to external connections. The true story of Los Angeles’s rise lies in the spectacular visions and rambunctious activism of a group of elite men dedicated to transforming a remote frontier town into a global metropolis.

Aviation in Northern California 1910-1939: Vol. 1, San Francisco Bay Area is the only book to give a detailed account of early flying in the Bay Area. Historian Allen Herr recalls the aviation pioneers who flew weekly exhibitions promoting the Panama-Pacific International Exposition fifteen months prior to its San Francisco opening. These pioneers formed flying schools, built airports, manufactured aircraft, and competed against each other. Herr captures the energy behind the Bay Area aviation movement, tells who was involved, and describes the effects of their extraordinary determination and achievements. This edition is one of three in Herr's series of Aviation in Northern California 1910-1939.

Compton is a city of myth and misunderstandings. Today, it is known as the city of "hip-hop dreams and gangsta fantasies." Its history, however, is not as well known. Compton was originally part of the Rancho San Pedro Spanish land grant. The area was deeded as a wedding gift, lost in foreclosure, then sold to F.P.F. Temple and F.W. Gibson at a sheriff's sale. Ultimately, it was settled in 1867 by former forty-niners from Stockton. Given its location halfway between the harbor and Los Angeles, the "Hub City" has seen many pivotal events: the dawn of flight at the 1910 international air meet, the 1933 earthquake, floods, white flight, factory shut-downs, decline, and now a new beginning at the start of the 21st century.

While large numbers of aeroplanes had been produced In America for the war effort overseas at the Western Front, it was found that that the British, French and Germans were far ahead of them when it came to flight technology, which led to a huge surplus of aeroplanes in the United States. The government’s solution to recover some of the money was to sell the surplus stock off for as little as $200 dollars each. With no licence being required to fly a plane, the offer attracted many ex-fighter pilots as well as civilians, who developed a new American pastime known as barnstorming. Part entertainers, part thrill-seekers, the barnstormers made their way across the country as solo acts and in groups called 'Flying Circuses'. The American flier Ormer Locklear wowed the crowds by climbing out of his aeroplane and walk along the wing, and it wasn’t long before flying circuses held less appeal for spectators if it didn’t have a wing-walking act. Handstands, jumps across planes, and even the odd game of tennis were attempted by barnstormers to attract larger paying audiences. In 1936, the US Government banned wing-walking under 1,500 ft, which doomed aerial stunting, and while a few wing-walking teams operated in the 1970s, it wasn’t until barnstormer Vic Norman founded his famous AeroSuperBatics wing-walking team in the early 1980s that the sight of daredevils hand-standing and flying upside down on the wing was seen in Europe. Several teams around the world subsequently formed using aeroplanes such as the Boeing Stearman or the Curtiss 'Jenny' biplanes to wow crowds as a part of regular air displays, and their appeal has continued to rise since the 2000s.