The Delta Flight Museum would seem to be all about one airline—Delta—but in fact, Delta has been around so long, and over the years absorbed so many other airlines, that it really functions as a museum of the American aviation industry.
It’s location should be no surprise: A Georgia native, the airline has had its headquarters at Atlanta’s airport since 1930, and the museum is housed in a giant building built as maintenance hangars for the airline in the 1930s.
At the entrance to the building, just around the corner from a DC7, the last great plane of Delta’s propeller era, the canopy over the doors is supported by landing gear from retired 757s, complete with their lights. And, as you can see below, getting into the museum is quite a bit like entering an airport.
Once past the screening and into the smaller half of the building, you’re in the Prop Era, passing by Ship 41—Delta’s first, and only remaining DC3.
The DC3 had such an impact on commercial aviation when it was introduced in 1935 that within four years it accounted for almost 90% of passenger flights worldwide. It flew faster and more reliably than its predecessors, and could cross the U.S. in 18 hours with only three re-fueling stops. It was the first airliner that could make a buck on passenger flying without a subsidy for carrying mail. Easy to understand its popularity!
But for Delta, the DC3 wasn’t the start of the story, and in its very earliest yeas it carried no passengers at all: it started out in 1925 down the road from Atlanta at Macon, as Huff-Daaland Dusters, a pioneer crop-dusting company with one plane, below.
By 1929 it was carrying passengers to towns in the Mississippi Delta, using this plane, and got its new name from that service. But passenger service stopped the next year when it lost a mail contract. It didn’t carry passengers again until it got a new contract in 1934.
A long wall of the Propeller Era hangar is lined with display cases showing off artifacts of the changing, growing airline industry of the era, including pieces not only from Delta but from others it later absorbed, including Chicago & Southern, Northeast, Western and finally Northwest. Multiple versions of Delta’s changing logo are displayed above the display cases.
With airmail subsidies such an important source of revenue in the early days of flying, new routes were celebrated with ‘first-day covers’ of mail carried on the route with special envelopes and cancelations. Onboard, travelers could hope for some of the earliest amenity kits, containing chewing gum and cotton earplugs. Seating was quite different from today’s, but with more legroom!
The developing industry gained more and more technology assistance to keep pilots in touch with ground controllers and weather information. Flight plans, time sheets and more became part of pilot routines.
New routes brought new advertising, whether for routes across the southern United States, or across oceans, although Delta didn’t go international until much later.
Cabin crew, originally recruited from among nurses, grew larger as planes grew beyond the 21-passenger DC3, and their images were often featured in ads and publicity shots.
Boarding passes were quite different in the early days, and no, there wasn’t an app for that! I for one don’t miss the days of wondering what safe place I had tucked the paper airline tickets into, but I’m not sure I’d go this far back…
I was surprised to discover how recent the idea of a reserved seat is, but I do remember racks of airline timetables at the airport. The last photo in this group is the Delta reservation center as it looked in 1946.
In the era before the deregulation of airline routes and fares in 1978, there was an era when airlines competed on food, service and a veneer of luxury, even in coach; these days that’s limited to the front of the plane. No “Royal Service,” “imperial Service” or “Champagne Flights” for the ordinary traveler…
On the way to the Jet Era building, a tribute to Delta’s maintenance staff and a chance for young pilots to ‘fly’ a classic biplane and a huge collection of detailed scale model planes.
In the larger building, the largest indoor exhibit, a 767 that bears the name Spirit of Delta, with an unusual history. In 1982, at a financial low point for Delta, some employees started a campaign to help their employer by buying it a new plane for $30 million. Per employee, that amounts to $4,285 apiece; I’d like to hope those at the top paid a lot more than those at the bottom.
Under Spirit’s wings, a series of display cases made to look like converted baggage wagons shows off more artifacts including flight attendant uniforms, which continue on into more displays.
Other exhibits in the jet building include a Convair 880 cockpit, DC8 engines,
A giant flight simulator used to train 737 pilots, sits at one end of the hangar and is available for anyone who’d like to try it and is willing to spend a few hundred dollars. The rest of us can watch from the floor or a balcony as it swings and stoops, simulating flight conditions.
There’s another simulator on display nearby, a World War II Link trainer used to train pilots to “fly blind,” relying entirely on instruments. The instructors were WAVES (Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service) who weren’t allowed into the Air Corps themselves.
Outside the museum, the exhibits continue with a series of large aircraft and one small amusement: A Mini, made up as a Delta plane. And a DC9 and 757.
But the big outdoor exhibit, complete with its own service tower and elevator to go on board, is a huge 747, the Queen of the Skies.
The retired plane is complete with premium seats upfront, ten-across seats for us regular folk, and a chance to look into (but not touch!) the flight deck.
Past the forward seating area, there are glass panels in the floor to show how much equipment is underfoot in the huge plane. How huge? The view below is where most of the passenger seats were when it was in service.
I truly enjoyed my visit to the Delta Flight Museum, although I was a bit put off by the idea of the employees paying $30 million to buy the boss a plane, and all the signs about how much Delta is its people and how loyal they are. And then, as I headed back to the highway, I got a little confirmation of my feelings…
A nice visit to the time when it was a pleasure (rather than a chore) to fly. Enjoyed the post.