Orville hated to speak publicly. He would let Wilbur do that, but his brother had been gone thirty-one years. The feud with the Smithsonian was now supposedly over, and the 1903 Flyer was coming back to the States. President Franklin D. Roosevelt was to announce the Flyer's return. It was an American triumph in a year when the war was not going badly. Orville had been assured that the Flyer was perfectly safe down in underground storage. Orville had thought more than once about the irony of the Germans trying to destroy his plane with his planes. He viewed all planes as his. They all used his technology. It didn't matter what the courts or the government said, those bombers were flying with his rudders, his ailerons, his elevators.

And now they wanted him to speak after the president announced that the Flyer was to be returned; but the president couldn't come, and they had sent Secretary of Commerce Jesse H. Jones to make the announcement. Orville waited patiently and looked at his watch. He listened to Jones drone on and talk about the return of his plane. Orville sat perfectly still and waited. He was to give the Collier Trophy to General Arnold. Jones finished up his message from the president: “In closing I can think of only one additional tribute to General Arnold. Will you please ask Orville Wright the great teacher, to act for me in handing the Collier Trophy to General Arnold the great pupil.”1 Orville stood up as Jones stepped aside and motioned him to the microphone. It was a national broadcast. People coast to coast leaned close to their radios to hear the voice of Orville Wright. He was a man of legend by now. Orville pressed his lips together and took the trophy from Secretary Jones. The room was silent. Everyone was waiting. Orville Wright was about to speak. The room waited. Secretary Jones waited. General Arnold waited. Orville stood with the trophy in front of the microphone. Control rooms all over the country checked their sound levels. Had the feed gone dead? This was dead air. A horror in radio. But, no, the feed was good. It was just that Orville Wright was standing in front of the microphone, not speaking.2

Orville then moved toward General Arnold. Better to be done with all of this. He hated dinners. He hated ceremonies. He did not like to be around people he did not know. The radio announcer who had been orchestrating the night swung into action. He told the radio audience that the great Orville Wright was now handing the trophy to General Arnold. Arnold took the trophy and then said to the radio audience that there was no one else he would rather receive a trophy from than Orville Wright. Orville nodded stiffly and took his seat. “Orville vowed he would never attend another official dinner in Washington.”³ He crossed his legs. He still hated the Smithsonian. He still hated Glenn Curtiss. Curtiss had killed his brother. The Flyer could stay in London, for all he cared. He knew they couldn't move it until the war was over anyway. He could be dead by then for all he knew.

He would be.