Evening Star Newspaper, February 2, 1930, Page 93

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, FEBRUARY 2, 1930. - Seadrome [nventor Has Edward R. Armstrong, Who Worked Ten Years to Perfect His Idea on a Floating Island to Be Anchored in Mid-Ocean, W as a Professional Wrestler and “The Strong Boy of Canada’ in the Early Years of His Fascinating Life. BY JAMES W. BOOTH. RANSATLANTIC flying over an air lane dotted with floating seadrome landing fields is regarded as a cer- tainty of the very near future. For the first full sized seadrome is to be put in operation this Summer between New Xork and Bermuda. And when it comes, & bored public, turned blase by the long succession of modern tech- nical triumphs, will stifle a yawn and murmur, *Very interesting!” Interesting it will be, but the chances are that it will not be as interesting as the life of the man whose active brain and unrelenting perseverance made it possible. What kind of a man is it who flings a chain of floating islands across the Atlantic, and adds another chapter to the story of the con- quest of the sea and the annihilation of space? You may well wonder. He is Edward A. Armstrong, now chief of the mechanical experimental division of the E. I du Pont de Nemours Co. of Wilmington, Del., formerly “The Strong Boy of Canada,” professional wrestler, circus Sandow, railroad surveyor, civil and mechanical enginecer. FIRST of all, Mr. Armstrong is a Canadian - by birth. While he has lived in the United States a great many years, he was born In Mount Forest, Ontario. Three months before he was born his mother was taken ill with scarlet fever. The result was he came into the world a spindling, sickly infant, weighing but three pounds. They didn't think he would live. His mother, watching his puny efforts to walk and lift things, used to shake her head sadly and sigh: “Ah, Ted, you'll never be the powerful man your father is.” Now young Armstrong loved and admired his father tremendously, which is the way it should be. He wanted to be like him—a powerful man. ‘The remark of his mother kindled a powder train in the boy’s imagination. There must be some way for a weak and sickly child to de- velop bone apnd muscle, he reasoned. He looked fbout him and chanced upon a series of articles on physical culture. Exercise, fresh air, deep breathing, food! He took his litany back to the barn and started in. Hl was about 12 years old when he began his campaign for bone and muscle. At 19, he was known as the “Strong Boy of Canada, Apostle of Health and Physical Culture.” On one occasion he appeared in Market Square at Galt, Ontario, and astonished his audience with feats of strength. A yellowed clipping from the weekly newspaper of Galt of some 30 years ago tells the story: “An immense audience assembled on Market Square Friday and witnessed a wonderful feat of strength of Edward R. Armstrong. A team of horses was attached, one to each arm of the young Samson, and he stood the strain of their pulling in opposite directions. “Mr. Armstrong is yet in his teens and be- eause of this the feats he performed are, in- deed, wonderful. The exhibition consisted of lifting 2,000 pounds:; supporting 1,500 pounds upon his chest; putting above the head with either hand a dumbbell weighing 150 pounds; putting above the head two 100-pound dumb- bells, one in each hand; allowing, while seated in a chair with the legs extended in front parallel to the fioor, a 225-pound man to stand on his ankles; breaking with the expansion of his chest a steel cable whose breaking strain is 1,000 pounds; breaking with direct pull a steel chain capable of holding two horses; bending bars of iron up to 1 inch in diameter.” Mr. Armstrong laughs when he recalls that newspaper account. “Boys are curious ani- mals,” he remarks. “I had an idea I wanted to evangelize the world, make everybody sirong. “But along about this time I discovered a funny thing about humans, They like to watch you bend iron bars across your forearm, and pull against a team of horses, but when it comes to exercising and trying to make them- selves strong, they lose interest.” MUCH water has passed under the bridge since young Armstrong was the “Strong Boy of Canada.” He has traveled far. He has been a professional wrestler, circus Sandow, railroad surveyor, civil engineer and finally, due to much application of the proverbial midnight oil, a mechanical engineer of high standing. For soon after young Armstrong became the “Strong Boy of Canada,” he found that bend- ing an iron bar across your forearm and lifting 2,000 pounds wasn't a career. __He decided wrestling was. He'd put his mus- ele to work, he reasoned, and become a cham- Pplon. So he packed his bag, left his Ontario home and journeyed down to Cleveland, where he walked, into a famous old gymnasium where Jenkins and other celebrated wrestlers trained. The trainer looked over his 180 pounds of solid young flesh and nodded ap- provingly. He motioned to a slim middleweight wrestler. “Try this fellow out,” he ordered. In the next 10 minutes, the “Strong Boy of Canada” learned there is a vast difference be- tween bending bars and matching your skill against a trained wrestler. In five seconds Armstrong found himself on the floor. Once again, as all through his life, he had a problem on his hands. He worked, wrestled, studied, listened to the small talk of the gym- nasium, and in three months he knew every trick and hold in wrestling, and could throw any one in the place. Armstrong was in a fair way to become the wrestling champion he thought he wanted to be, but he threw his chance away. He made another discovery-—that there is a great deal more to life than" muscular prowess and skill. Some years before, he had taken a general academic course in the Collegiate In- stitute at Guelph, Ontario. And now again he turned to books. IN the Fall of 1899 a young man journeyed from Cleveland down to West Virginia to join a gang of railroad engineers and surveyors. He was pale, his boots were new and shiny; he wore riding breeches. The stamp of the city was upon him, The superintendent of the surveying crew took one look at him and became enveloped in a wave of sympathy. He led the young man aside for some quiet personal advice. “Look here,” he sald confidentially. “You'd better take the next train back to Cleveland. This is a rough outfit and you wen't like it.” The young man shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I think I'll stick. I was sent down here from Cleveland and I'm not going back. Whatever the job is, I'll try and do it.” The superintendent looked him over a mo- ment or so, lit his pipe, and became more con- fidential. “Listen, young fellow, I'm talking for your own good. We've got a couple of young ruffians in this gang. They were the two best rough- and-tumble foot ball players in the South a year ago—and they know it. Every time a newcomer joins this crew they pick a fight with him, or challenge him to a wrestling bout. 11 Adventurous Career Seadrome Apostle Armstrong . . . “We expect them to Stay at sea 20 years, with repairs made only from aboard.” They give him the works, too. You haven't a Chinaman’s chance. You'd better beat it while you've got your health.” The pale young man in riding breeches smiled. It was now his turn to become con- fidential. What he told the superintendent changed that gentleman’s attitude. The two young huskies pounced on the Ca- nadian dude like hungry dogs after a bone. They argued as to which one should have the first crack at him. The superintendent pro- posed that an orderly match be arranged. A few days later an informal wrestling tour- nament was staged. Young West Virginla mountaineers straggled in to engage in the preliminary bouts and watch the fun. The dude progressed through his trial matches with- out being hard pressed, and faced the first of the two foot ball players in the semi-final. They circled around the ring for a second or so, then the dude suddenly reached out his left hand, caught the foot ball player around the neck, and a minute later it was over. This working model of the new seadrome shows the underwater structure of struts, ballast and buoyancy tanks, which will hold the landing deck at en even keel in a tropical hurricane. “Aw, I slipped,” complained the foot baller. Just before the final bout the young man from Cleveland stripped off his shirt. The amazed spectators saw & pair of muscular shoulders and the barrel chest of a trained athlete. He took the second foot ball player without any formalities and tossed him, grunt- ing, to the ground. Then he took both of them together and threw them in a heap, while the mountaineers howled with delight. TBAT was Armstrong’s last wrestling match + —except for a period a few years later when he turned aside for a strange interlude. With a group of railroad engineers and sur- veyors he attended a circus in Cleveland. Of course, there was a strong man with bulging muscles who lifted dumbbells and tossed heavy weights around. “That looks easy!” Armstrong remarked.cas- ually. “I'll bet I could do that myself.” His friends thought he was joking, but he Still believing he was joking, his friends trailed after him when the performance was over, To the amazement of his friends, Arm- strong lifted all the weights, bent an iron bar over his arm and added another trick or two to the circus man’s repertoire. It so happened that the circus Sandow was quitting the following week and the circus manager hired Armstrong before the young engineer could explain it was only a joke. For two months that Summer he traveled with the circus, rode & horse in the street parade, helped the canvasmen put up the big top. And then he threw up the job and went to Texas to survey pipe lines for an oil come pany. FOR the next five years, from Spindle Top to * the Panhandle, he followed the oil drillers, helping solve the problems of storage and transport by day, studying books by night. From the outbreak of the World War until he was given a leave of absence to carry en his seadrome work, he was with the E. I du Pont de Nemours Co. The seadrome problem was to construct a floating platform large enough to give ample landing space, which would remain steady and level under all weather conditions. Ships are designed to pitch and toss under wave action to relleve the strain on their structures. Discarding this principle, he designed a float built on a steel skeleton framework which would permit high waves to pass under it unobstruct- ed. He built models and tested them in a tank. Under violent wave conditions—waves equivalent to 180 feet high—his sea platform remained level, whereas the model of the steamship Majestic, built to scale, was swamped by waves 60 feet high. Then he built a 35-foot model and tested it in the Choptank River and in the waters of Chesapeake Bay. He found the same condi- tions true there. 'HE seadrome, when completed and planted in the ocean, will tower 80 feet in the air, its under structure a great mass of stilts, guys, braces. At the rear, between the sea an deck, will be stabilizers similar to those tails of airplanes and dirigibles. The stil descend 170 feet into the ocean. Eg é?%n as?e§ fi55