http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/192109/airplanes

A lean quiet man pushed his way through the crowd into the open of the parade-ground at Fort Myer, and perched himself uncomfortably in the midst of bundle of sticks. A weight crashed down from the top of a derrick, and the bundle, with droning, whining propeller, was thrown into the air, and stayed there. Breath was drawn in with sharp. Audible gasping, and eyes grew round in upturned faces. The impossible had happened. Orville Wright is proving to the army that he could fly.