Milan’s Cloud Coupe and the Dream That Took Flight

Did you know that Milan used to be the home to an airport?

Photo on the left taken by Cheryl Damon-Greiner. Photo on the right (Hangar at Milan's airport) via Milan Indiana: A Storied Past, a sesquicentennial book. 

(Milan, Ind.) - The skies over southeast Indiana might sound and look a lot different today, with flight paths and vapor trails overhead, if a dream in Milan almost one hundred years ago had lasted a little longer. As America celebrates its 250th birthday, small towns everywhere are rediscovering the stories that shaped them - the moments when ordinary people reached for something extraordinary. In Milan, Indiana, one of those stories began in 1930 in a field behind the old MIWOGCO (Milan Indiana Water Oil and Gas Company) Hotel, where a small group of idealists believed they could build a new industry in Milan that would change the future.

Aviation fever had swept the country after World War I. Pilots were returning home with ideas to make a living using surplus aircraft bought for as little as $200 from the government. Barnstormers, the roaming pilots of the day, were dropping into farmers’ fields, putting on flying shows and selling a few rides before the dust settled. Milan was no exception. Farmers sometimes granted permission for pilots to use their fields as makeshift landing strips, and other times the sight of a biplane unexpectedly swooping over the barn and touching down in a field of soybeans became a familiar thrill for farm kids. From this atmosphere of excitement and possibility, plus proximity to Cincinnati’s early aviation scene, three men emerged whose names deserve a place in Milan’s history: Roy LaCroix, Bill Harrington, and Bud Guild.

LaCroix, a former World War I aviator who trained in the skies over Europe with the French Air Pursuit Squadron, was eager to keep flying once the war ended. He had spent 14 years building and designing planes and believed he could build a modern, affordable light airplane for the civilian customer. Harrington, an enthusiastic entrepreneur, believed Milan’s mechanics and craftsmen could support a real aviation industry. And Guild, a barnstormer with nerves of steel, believed he could fly anything with wings. Together, with several other businessmen, they formed the Cloud Coupe Aircraft Corporation of Milan, Indiana. Their first challenge was finding a place to build and fly their creation. The answer was the John Negangard farm, where 60 acres were transformed into a genuine rural airport. Within months the fields were graded. A large wooden hangar was built. A flying school relocated there from Harrison, Ohio, to train pilots and to provide income for the new facility. Students had already signed up and the company grew with mechanics, pilots and instructors. Residents welcomed the influx of students and even let them board in their homes. Milan became one of the most ambitious aviation ventures in Indiana, getting its footing in a new and demanding technology, about 25 years after the Wright brothers’ first flights. These were pioneers of a different sort.

By early 1931, the first Cloud Coupe rolled out of the hangar. It was a two-passenger aircraft weighing just 800 pounds, built of spruce hardwood and covered in linen fabric. The fabric was sealed with banana oil to repel water and painted a handsome blue and white. The price: $1,500, a bargain for the era. But building an airplane is one thing — proving it can fly is another. Early test runs were discouraging, but the team persisted. Then came the breakthrough: Bud Guild climbed into the cockpit and made a successful 20-minute flight, circling above the rural airport as the townspeople watched from below. They had designed and built a working airplane.

Original Cloud Coupe airplane. Photo from Milan's sesquicentennial book.

To prove the little plane’s promise beyond Ripley County, the Cloud Coupe’s next stop was the National Air Show in Detroit, one of the most prestigious aviation events in the country. Hauled north by a Model AA farm truck, the Milan-built aircraft drew crowds and earned praise from dozens of prospective buyers. Harrington boldly predicted a production rate of five airplanes per month — an astonishing ambition for a town of Milan’s size.

Back home, excitement reached its peak on May 10, 1931, when several thousand people braved the rain to attend an air show at the new airport. The local Versailles Republican newspaper reported that the crowd gasped as: “the little ship coming in low over the field would suddenly point its nose skyward and shoot several hundred feet into the air in a few seconds.” After the show, visitors toured the factory, marveling at how far the operation had come from its humble beginnings. Less than two years before, local mechanics had tested the durability of the landing gear by tying sandbags to the prototype and dropping it from the ceiling of their workspace in Harrington’s Garage, a former Chevrolet dealership.

Unfortunately, the dream was short-lived. In 1932, the Cloud Coupe was redesigned, but the new model was never licensed by the federal government. Aviation regulations were tightening, safety standards were rising, and the Great Depression was squeezing every dollar out of rural America. Orders were cancelled and flight students went home. The airport and aviation school closed. The company simply couldn’t raise the funds needed to continue. Despite the great reviews, financial investment and long hours of hard work, the dream ended. Flight was not going to be part of Milan’s future. The creative design ideas would be built upon by others. The shared experience of being part of the Cloud Coupe Aircraft Corporation fueled different future paths for the workers who were involved.

Field where the airport once stood.

For decades, the old hangar and garage stood as quiet reminders of Milan’s brief moment in the aviation spotlight. Then in 1994, residents heard a thunderous sound from the deserted site when the old garage collapsed. The last reminder now is the road that passes the empty field that once held the airport. At the intersection with Carr Street, near the elementary school, is an Airport Road street sign that marks the path that Milan’s early flyers travelled on their way to work. The children learn a history lesson about Hoosier innovation and the belief that their small town can touch the sky.

*Some information and pictures for this story came from Milan Indiana: A Storied Past, a sesquicentennial book