For about $720, passengers on the Hindenburg enjoyed a degree of luxury and personal attention that surpassed that of the great ocean liners of the day. There are many stories of passengers asking the crew when they were going to take off several hours into the flight, so smooth was its passage.
There were two decks for the seventy-two passengers, although on this trip it was carrying only thirty-six passengers and a crew of sixty-one.
Deck A, on the lower level, included the passengers’ bedrooms (thirty-four double and four single berths), a reading and writing room that contained a baby grand piano made of aluminum and covered in antelope skin for lightness, and a spacious dining room. The sides of the lounge and dining room had sloping full-length windows, giving a majestic view of the countryside and oceans below Normally traveling at an altitude of only 1,000 feet, the Hindenburg gave the passengers a clear view without any noise at all.
Deck B contained the toilets, the kitchen, crew quarters, a bar, and even a pressurized smoking room that had to be entered through an airtight door.
Shortly after midnight the Hindenburg entered a fierce storm over the North Sea, and Captain Pruss ascended over the clouds to about 2,100 feet to ride out the weather, then descended back to the regulation 1,000 feet at breakfast time. The passengers were constantly entertained. After breakfast bouillon was served at 11 a.m., checkers and cards were played, and drinks were served constantly. The hand-picked staff were chosen for their friendliness and efficiency, and Captain Lehmann often entertained the passengers with his prowess on the accordion. Tours of the ship were given twice a day, and the passengers marveled at the sophistication, power, and beauty of this engineering feat. There was even a ship’s dog at the rear of the vessel.
The Hindenburg began to face strong headwinds on its way to the eastern seaboard, adding extra time to the trip and frustrating the officers, who prided themselves on their famous punctuality. However, the passengers were oblivious to any problems as the five chefs on board and the staff, under Chief Steward Kubis, attended to their every request.
At 3:07 p.m. on Thursday May 6, the Hindenburg arrived over New York City, showing its passengers the Empire State Building, the Bronx, and Central Park. A heavy storm began to hit its landing site at the Lakehurst Naval Air Station, and after consulting with the commanding officer, Charles Rosendahl, Captain Pruss decided to circle to the north for a while to await better landing conditions.
The hundreds of people who had gathered since early in the morning marveled at the size and grace of this airship as it turned around the Statue of Liberty; it was truly an awesome sign of the emerging power of Nazi Germany.
The passengers on board, being informed of the delay, merely shrugged and went for a long, leisurely lunch while looking out of the windows at the distant skyscrapers of New York.
At around 5 p.m. Captain Rosendahl sounded “zero hour,” summoning the more than 200 ground support staff from their dry quarters to prepare for landing. However, Captain Pruss had drifted a little too far away when the airfield informed him that conditions were favorable for landing at 6:12 p.m. Shortly after 7 p.m. Rosendahl sent the airship its last message, “Conditions definitely improved, recommend earliest possible landing.”
The Hindenburg was on its final approach, and events began to unfold rapidly.
At 7:07 p.m. it executed a sharp turn at full speed to the west at about 700 feet altitude.
At 7:11 p.m. it vented some hydrogen to bring its descent in line with the mast, awaiting docking.
At 7:12 p.m. the captain reduced the speed to idling and reversed engines to slow down; the altitude and speed were perfect, the crew were in their positions in the tail ready to release the rear landing wheels, and others had the tow ropes ready for dropping.
At 7:17 p.m. the Hindenburg dropped 2,400 pounds of water on the onlookers underneath as it trimmed its ballast and floated majestically to the docking tower.
Now only about 900 feet from the tower and 300 feet up, the crew dropped the first mooring rope, which was grasped by the eager ground staff.
The passengers and their waiting families were waving to each other when suddenly, at 7:25 p.m., witnesses saw a small flame appear in the rear tail section of the airship. Within seconds the ship was half consumed by a raging orange fireball. The passengers and crew had little time; many threw themselves through the windows to their death 300 feet below, but the airship hit the ground quickly, enabling some to stagger out of the inferno to safety.
Within 24 seconds the Hindenburg was completely consumed by flames. The horrific pictures and commentary by Herbert Morrison, the radioman who was reduced to tears watching it, were shown around the world the next day, effectively ending trans-Atlantic airship flight for years. Captain Lehmann, his clothes smoldering, was carried from the wreckage, saying over and over, “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it.” He died 2 days later from horrific burns, which covered more than 80 percent of his body.
It is incredible that only thirty-six people died (although many others had horrific injuries). To this day no definite conclusion has been reached on the causes of the tragedy.
Recent scientific tests have shown that the silver aluminum paint on the Hindenburg had the same flammable properties as solid rocket fuel. Others have speculated that lightning ignited the gas the airship released, others that sabotage had been used to discredit Nazi Germany.
The FBI released a 337-page investigation into the disaster, alleging that Lehmann himself set the explosion with a clockwork fire bomb as part of an elaborate plot to obtain helium from the United States. The bomb was supposedly set to go off when the airship was empty, but the 2-hour delay threw off the timing of the plot. We may never know. In any case, the days of the great airship adventure were over.
MENUS
On its last voyage, the Hindenburg carried 300 pounds of Beluga caviar, 220 pounds of fresh butter, 220 pounds of fresh fish, 800 eggs, 220 pounds of cheese and marmalade, and 55 gallons of mineral water, among other stores. Under Chef Xavier Maier, the Hindenburg represented the finest standards of service and presentation for one of the flagships of the new Germany.
Last Menu of the Hindenburg
Pâté à la Reine
Salad Carmen
Indian Swallow Nest Soup
Beef Broth with Marrow Dumplings
Pan-Fried Black Forest Trout
Cold Rhine Salmon with Potato Salad
Roast Gosling Meunière
Duckling Bavarian Style with Champagne Cabbage
Venison Beauval with Chateau Potatoes
Tenderloin Steak with Goose Liver Sauce, Chateau Potatoes
Pears Condé with Chocolate Sauce
Turkish Coffee, Cakes, Cheeses, Liqueurs
Captain Lehmann’s Dinner, May 5, 1937
Pâté à la Reine
Fish in Black Butter
Duckling Bavarian Style
Venison Beauval
Chateau Potatoes, Champagne Cabbage
Pâté à la Reine
1 lb venison, trimmed weight
½ lb belly of pork, trimmed weight
½ lb chicken livers
1 small orange
1 lemon
2 garlic cloves
1 ½ tsp fresh thyme (more to taste)
1 ½ tsp whole and ground bay leaves
black pepper
salt
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
2 tbsp olive oil
½ cup red wine
1 tsp gelatin powder
a few kumquats to decorate
Mince all three meats finely and put them in a bowl. Add the zest of orange and lemon, crushed garlic, thyme, olive oil, vinegar, a generous pinch of powdered bay leaves, and plenty of black pepper. Mix thoroughly and stir in wine. Cover and leave to marinate overnight.
Season with salt; I find 1 tsp about right, but try a small nugget of the mixture to check. Turn the pâté into a terrine of about 2 ¼ pint capacity. Pack the mixture well
down into the corners of the dish and use a spoon to hollow out slightly the center top. Cover with greaseproof paper and foil, and stand the dish in a roasting pan containing enough hot water to come halfway up the sides of the dish. Bake at 325°F for 2 ¼ to 2 ½ hours.
Using a bulb baster, remove and reserve most of the juices that surround the pâté. Replace the greaseproof paper and foil, press the pâté lightly with 1 ½ to 2 lb weights, and cook for 1 to 1 ½ hours. Then drain off any remaining juices that have not been reabsorbed by the pâté. Mix all the venison juices that you have collected with the juice of the orange and measure.
Add a splash of water if necessary to make ½ pint in total. Dissolve the gelatin powder in the mixture and use it to glaze the pâté, adding a few bay leaves and kumquats to decorate if desired.
Fish in Black Butter (4)
4 medium-sized trout, cleaned but with heads left on
salt and black pepper to taste
½ lb unsalted butter
4 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tsp small capers
2 tbsp coarsely chopped parsley
Make sure that the fish is completely dry; season with salt and pepper inside and out.
Place half the butter in a large frying pan and cook the trout for about 2 to 3 minutes each side. Remove from pan and place on heated serving dish.
Put the remaining butter in the pan, heat until it becomes a nice golden color (don’t burn it), add the lemon juice, capers, and parsley for 1 minute more.
Spoon over the trout and serve immediately.
Venison Beauval (Brandied Venison Steaks) (4)
Venison is the meat of any antlered animal such as deer, elk, moose, or caribou.
4 loin steaks, about ¾-inch thick
2 lb butter
2 tbsp brandy
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
Melt the butter over medium heat in a large frying pan. Quickly sear the steaks and cook on reduced heat for about 3 minutes each side.
Mix the brandy and Worcestershire sauce and pour over steaks, simmer for about 1 minute, flame, and serve immediately.
Chateau Potatoes (6)
6 medium potatoes
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tbsp finely chopped rosemary
½ tsp each of salt and pepper
Peel potatoes. Using a paring knife, cut into 8-sided jewel shapes (alternatively, cut into thick, evenly shaped wedges).
Place butter, oil, and rosemary in a large rimmed baking sheet.
Set the pan in 425°F oven for 2 to 3 minutes or until butter is sizzling.
Pat potatoes dry, place in heated pan, and stir to coat with butter mixture.
Bake, stirring occasionally, 35 to 40 minutes or until potatoes are golden brown.
Season with salt and pepper.
Baked Duck (8)
2 mallard ducks, cleaned
salt and pepper
1 large onion, chopped
2 ribs celery, chopped
4 slices bacon or salt pork
3 cups water
1 tsp prepared herb seasoning
2 chicken bouillon cubes
Salt and pepper the ducks. Place in baking pan, add half of the onion and half of the celery, place other half in body cavities. Place the bacon, 2 slices per bird, across breast.
Add water, herb seasoning, and bouillon cubes to pan. Cook at 300°F for 3 hours, basting every 30 minutes. Smaller ducks should cook 2 hours.
When ducks have cooked, remove and wrap in aluminum foil to retain heat.
Duck Bavarian (4)
2 mallards, pintails, or black ducks, cleaned
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 cup cooking sherry
1 cup cream
Follow recipe for Baked Duck, then after ducks have baked, remove and pour pan drippings into saucepan. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium, add flour, and blend.
Fold in sherry and cream. Remove from stove. Split ducks in half, place into baking pan, cover with sauce, baste, and heat for 5 minutes.
Champagne Cabbage (4)
1 large Savoy cabbage
½ bottle champagne (don’t use a good one)
4 oz salted butter
salt and pepper
2 pints boiling water
Remove outer leaves of cabbage, cut into four, then remove the core and shred finely.
Put in colander and place over boiling water. Steam for 3 to 4 minutes and remove cabbage from steam.
Place butter and champagne in large pan and heat gently. When butter and champagne are blended, whisk lightly, add cabbage, and season to taste. Serve immediately.
ELVIS AARON PRESLEY
Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee
August 16, 1977
Elvis Presley has left the building.
—Every concert promoter (Elvis never did encores)
On January 8, 1935, after 10 hours of labor, an exhausted Gladys Presley finally gave birth to the son she had always prayed for. As her husband, Vernon, rushed to her side, he saw the sadness on the doctor’s face. The baby was stillborn. But his uncle put his hand on her stomach and said, “But Vernon, I think there’s another baby in there.” The doctor rushed back to her side. “He’s right! There’s a twin.”
And so 30 minutes later, at 4:35 a.m., Elvis Aaron Presley was brought into the world. As his brother, Jesse Garon, was buried the next day in an unmarked grave in a cardboard box, the extraordinary life of the man who would always be called The King began in a dismal two-room shack in Tupelo, Mississippi.
From the beginning of his life Elvis was surrounded by music. His mother picked cotton during the day in the heat of the Mississippi sun, pulling her 1-year-old son behind her on a bundle of rags. Blacks and whites worked side by side in the cotton fields of the 1930s, and their singing and humming helped ease the burden of the long monotonous hours. In church every Sunday the choirs sang part gospel, part blues, and the young Elvis stood eagerly mouthing the music along with them.
When Elvis was 4, his father made him a guitar from an old cigar box, a broom handle, and some fishing line, and Elvis stood for hours belting out any tunes he could remember.
As his father drifted in and out of jail, Elvis grew even closer to his mother, who encouraged his musical leanings by taking him to different churches to hear other choirs. By the time he was 8 years old he was wandering through the town by himself, looking for anyone to sing a tune with. By 9 he had a repertoire of hillbilly songs and was hanging outside the local radio station (WELO) singing along to the sounds of his hero, Tupelo’s “King of Country,” Mississippi Slim.
As with many children in a broken marriage, the relationship with his mother shaped his life in many ways. As a child Elvis loved potato salad with his all-time favorite, deep-fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches as a main course. He hated fish and most vegetables, and his adoring mother made no attempt to change his eating habits. Double batter-fried chicken when available, meatloaf, and hamburgers were all Elvis ever knew, and although he was a lanky, lean teenager, the seeds of his eventual ill health were being sown.
At the age of 17, Elvis was nearly 6 feet tall, with sandy blond hair and heavy acne. He started dyeing his hair black at the age of 19, a look he kept forever, and as he started to make records and his fame grew, plastic surgery corrected the acne and all his teeth were capped.
Considered too risqué for mainstream America, with his gyrations and excessive body movements (they would film him only from the waist up on TV), his concerts sold out nonetheless. Hollywood signed him to do a stream of B movies, all based around Elvis getting the girl and singing his current hits. As he came under the control of manager Colonel Parker, his mother began to see her baby slipping away from her and so followed his father down the path of alcoholism, taking amphetamines and any other available pills to ease the pain of her life.
She and Elvis always used baby-talk to each other on their frequent phone calls when he was on the
road, but unbeknown to him she was slipping fast. Finally admitted to Memphis Hospital on August 9, 1958 with severe cirrhosis of the liver, she died on August 14 at the age of only 46.
Elvis mourned his mother for days, blaming himself for leaving her and angry about the poverty she’d had to endure and about how, just when he could give her anything she wanted, she’d been taken away from him. This loss apparently created a scar that never healed.
Their Last Suppers: Legends of History and Their Final Meals Page 11
