By mid-summer of 1919 a number of restless young airmen, discharged from the services at the close of World War I, were starting to look around for employment and were beginning to realize that there was none. Most of the still existing jobs in these lean times had been filled while they had been away fighting for their country - and Canada's economy was going to have to recover from years of feeding the war effort before new opportunities in conventional jobs opened up.

For some of these pilots this was not an insurmountable problem, they would just create themselves an opportunity... in aviation.

One of these pioneers was Captain Wop May, an Edmonton resident who had gained fame when, on his first combat flight, he was pursued and shot at by the 'Red Baron'. The fates must have smiled on the Canadian because Richtofen was killed during this chase and May survived to continue on to rise to the rank of captain, shoot down thirteen enemy aircraft, and be given the Distinguished Flying Cross. Now he was back in Edmonton and he had no doubts as to what his new career path was going to be!

With his brother Court he sat down to figure out just how best to do this and came up with some ideas. In April of 1919 Wop May attended a meeting held in Edmonton by the 'Western Canadian Fair and Exhibition Operators' - not an official title, just who they were.
First, let us pause a moment to give a little background to those who don't/can't remember that far back. This was the very dawn of the age of aviation and 'barnstorming' and it was also the golden age of country fairs and exhibitions. There was no television, little radio to speak of, and even silent movies were just beginning to be churned out by the mavens in the New York film studios (Hollywoodland was just starting up amongst the vineyards and sagebrush) - with the exception of vaudeville, local exhibitions were THE entertainment of the day for the majority of cities and towns in North America. And, as happens in the entertainment business today, the managers of this medium vied with each other for new and exciting promotions that would draw people to THEIR show and thus increase profits. So now we return to the story.
A proposal was delivered at this meeting by one Gale Brooks of Minneapolis - proposing that he be allowed to bring in Curtiss Jenny aircraft from the United States to be used in 'barnstorming features' at western Canadian fairs and exhibitions. After a little negotiating this was deemed acceptable, but only if Captain May (of Edmonton) and Captain McCall (of Calgary) were hired as the pilots. After all, we had to keep some Canadian content, eh!

In addition to these exhibition aircraft Wop knew that the City of Edmonton had an perfectly good airplane just lying around doing absolutely nothing. You see, during the war the citizens of the city had subscribed money to a fund enabling the Royal Air Force to buy training aircraft for the war effort and out of gratitude and tradition the RAF had christened one of these aircraft (that hadn't been bounced around too badly) 'The Edmonton'. Then came the end of the war and its attendant disposal of surplus of military machinery - and it looked like the knackers yard for 'The Edmonton'. Again fate interceded in Mays life, this time in the form of a Montreal business man, James Carruthers, who had made a fortune promoting real estate in Edmonton's west end. In late 1918 he purchased 'The Edmonton' and had her shipped to Alberta's capital as a gift of appreciation, with his compliments.

The aircraft was put on display in the Manufacturers' Building on the Edmonton Exhibition Grounds and there it sat. But not for long.

Not content with the 'barnstorming' aspect alone and seeing that luscious Jenny just sitting there pining away, The May Airplanes Company Ltd. put together a business proposal and approached the City of Edmonton. This proposal was ratified by city council on May 12, 1919 and enabled May Airplanes to take over the Jenny (upon deposit of a bond that would guarantee her replacement should she be 'damaged by accident or be demolished'). A $25.00 per month rental fee out of operating profits was agreed to - as well as the stipulation that the aircraft be used for the 'promotion of the principle of flying in and around Edmonton'.

So, they had aircraft... and for a price they could afford - virtually nothing except some financial backing from friends. But they needed some hired help. In their enthusiasm they had acquired the contract for barnstorming on both the 'A' Circuit (larger cities) and the 'B' Circuit (small cities and towns).

By now another ex-RAF aviator had finally made his way back to Edmonton. Lieutenant George Gorman had been involved in the disastrous Battle of Amiens during which the Allies lost 150 planes. He had been forced down on the wrong side of the lines and had spent the remainder of the Great War in a POW camp. Since the life span of pilots at the time was measured in hours, he should probably have viewed himself as 'Lucky George'. In any event, George was back and looking for work. In flying of course - you never really get it out of your system, do you - and so George was hired as a pilot.

Also back from being mustered out was Pete Derbyshire. Pete had been a mechanic in the garage owned by Wops father before going to war, and had been a mechanic/rigger (1) in the RAF. Perfect!!
Pete Derbyshire, although a behind-the-scenes type of guy, was always in the picture... though he never appears in the pictures. It was Pete who was left behind in the God forsaken wilderness for two months to reassemble an aircraft after a prang, Pete who went along with the plane to do crowd control on the circuit, Pete who made sure all the odds and sods got done, and long suffering (and lightweight) Pete who (after an American professional hired for the job got sick and went home mid-season) was nominated to fulfill one of the stipulations of their A Circuit contract by doing parachuted jumps from the Jenny.
I haven't yet found a picture of Peter Derbyshire, he was probably the guy working the shutter all the time, but I am looking. He deserves a good mention.
(1)To get one of the early aircraft flying it not only had to be mechanically functioning, you had to tighten a bunch of wires and turnbuckles and such so that everything warped around and pointed in the right directions.

One last thing remained to be set up.
Just within the city's northwestern limits, on the old St. Albert trail, Wop found a level bit of farm land that he felt was ideally suited. A deal was struck with farmer Walter Sporle for leases on the actual land involved and for permissions to crash into his crops if necessary, and a shed was erected to provide some place out of the snow for Pete. They now had an airfield.

The JN4 'The Edmonton' was dragged out of the Manufacturers' Building and Derbyshire and another ex-RAF rigger, Bill Freeze, made her airworthy. Gorman flew her to her new home at 'May Field' and shortly after that event an announcement appeared in the Alberta Gazette:

"I hereby certify that the May Airplanes Company is this day incorporated under the ordinance of the North West Territories, respecting companies, and that the company is limited. Capital, $20,000. Head office, Edmonton.
Given under my hand and seal at Edmonton, this 19th day of May, 1919. E. Trowbridge, registrar of companies."

On June 7, 1919 two bags of Noon Edition Edmonton Journal newspapers were pulled 'hot from the presses' at the Tegler Building and Circulation Manager Harry Fuller rushed them out to May Field. The 75 pounds of papers were heaved into the plane along with some pamphlets and, after some handshaking, George Gorman climbed into the front cockpit - Pete Derbyshire into the rear- they took off for a destination 40 miles away in Wetaskiwin.
After taking off they swung around the western edge of the city and turned south to follow the Edmonton/Calgary rail line at 500 feet, liberally distributing along the way the pamphlets which advertised their business. Thirty minutes of uneventful flying later they banked down to 50 feet and did two passes over the spectator packed stands at the Wetaskiwin fair grounds, bombing the Edmonton Journal representative standing in the infield with the sacks of papers and throwing out more pamphlets.
Contact fulfilled, they headed for home. The return wasn't as smooth though, for enroute they ran into a heavy rainstorm and winds that brought the Jenny to a virtual standstill. Well, this was a JN4... what did they expect, right? Bowing to the the inevitible they landed in an empty field alonside the tracks and waited for the storm to abate. When it had passed they continued on to Edmonton and buzzed the crowd of officials awaiting their return on the roof of the Tegler building - heaving out some more pamphlets as they did so. Then, happily stunting off in a northwesterly direction - trailed by flutters of pamphlets - the pair made their way back to May Field.
They had just successfully completed the first commercial flight in western Canada.

There are lots of stories that might someday become the subject of more pages at this location, if I get ambitious; but for now suffice it to say that - as things progressed - aviation got better and better in Edmonton.
In short order the Canadian government (desperate, as usual, to regulate something), set up the new Canadian Air Board at the beginning of 1920 to regulate and certify aviation. I can only assume they were invited out from Ottawa by the ever visionary Wop because for some reason they dropped by the May Airfield ... waaaaayyyyyy out in Edmonton ... and licensed everyone. Wilfred Reid (Wop) May received commercial license number seven, George Washington Gorman got number eight, and Pete Derbyshire was issued Canada Air Engineer Certificate number six. 'The Edmonton' was certified as well and received the very first Canadian aircraft registration lettering - 'C-AA1'.
Shortly after this C-AA1 was repainted and renamed 'The City of Edmonton' (rolls off the tongue better, doesn't it) and continued flying until 1923 when she was turned back to the city. An official city report said it succinctly enough:

"Cost of renovation to bring the plane back to regulation flying standards would be more than could be justifiably expended upon her."

The aircraft was just plain worn out, and besides, it was too small a plane for coming requirements.

After some debate about its fate 'The City of Edmonton' was stowed away in a horse barn at the Exhibition Grounds. But that was not her end - for after years of storage and static display, 'The City of Edmonton' was restored to pristine condition and now graces the entrance to the Reynolds Alberta Museum in Wetaskiwin - where it all started.