World War I begins what I call “the Hell Years” (copyright!) – the Great War, the Spanish influenza, the postwar recession, Prohibition, the resurgent Ku Klux Klan, the Great Depression, and World War II.

Here at home, many Americans did very well on the Great War – so much so that some postwar analysts traced our declaration of war to the “Merchants of Death” who made fortunes making, selling, and financing military supplies.

That vastly oversimplified things, but many ordinary people legitimately made good money for a short time, right here in the Finger Lakes, in new industries that blossomed with the war, and would largely shrivel after it.

The most obvious example was GLENN CURTISS. He had just started producing a decent training plane, the Curtiss Jenny, and the British quickly ordered 250, then ran the numbers up into thousands. They also wanted seaplanes, and although the Curtiss shop in Hammondsport was quickly running 24-6, it was noplace near enough. He built, bought, or leased huge new factories in Buffalo, as the Hammondsport plant switched over to all engine production, especially the 90-hp OX-5, to get the Allies into the air.

Glenn employed almost 3000 people just in Hammondsport, but even with his Buffalo plants it still wasn’t enough. The Willys-Morrow factory in Elmira made Curtiss engines and Liberty engines under license, employing women and old men to help make up the numbers. We hear a lot about Rosie the Riveter in World War II, but we should also remember Wanda the Welder (copyright!) from World War I. Women had been working in American factories ever since the factories were created. Now more than ever, with millions of young men in uniform, they were needed. Neta Snook, who later taught Amelia Earhart to fly, worked in Elmira as an expediter for the British government.

As for the old folks, there was no social safety net in those days. You worked until you couldn’t and then you probably died pretty quickly, because you couldn’t pay for food, clothing, housing, or medical care. If you couldn’t work you also had no economic value, so the economy got no benefit from you continuing to hang around.

Up in Geneva, boatmaker Fay & Bowen built hulls for Curtiss seaplanes.

Several fellows who had cut their teeth at Curtiss had opened the Thomas Brothers Aeroplane Company in Bath, but they, like Glenn, had to expand when the war broke out in 1914. Six months later they had shifted to the larger town of Ithaca and forged a merger with Morse Chain Company. Thomas-Morse manufactured airplanes, especially the Thomas-Morse “Scout,” in respectable numbers.

Taylor Instruments in Rochester had been in business for over half a century before the first airplane flew. But by 1914 they were already supplying Curtiss, Thomas, and others with altimeters and other instruments (often under the Tycos brand) needed for flight. Sometimes the instrument face bore the name of the buyer, such as Curtiss Aeroplane and Motor Company.

By 1916 Ingersoll-Rand in Painted Post employed over 800 men and “several score” of women, and the shops were “running night and day, on war materials for the British and allied governments.” The Rand manufactured ammunition, or more precisely it made shells, with the powder and projectiles installed elsewhere. On a smaller scale Corning Glass Works supplied optical glass for the same governments. They bought Steuben Glass at this time, since the main company was unaccustomed to precision work.

Both the Rand and the Glass Works were patrolled by armed guards, with admission by pass. The Curtiss plant had a scare when a couple of former employees were arrested for espionage, but while details on output might have interested the Central Powers, by that stage Curtiss didn’t have any secrets worth pirating. Some employees were also charged with sabotage, for passing through unacceptable materials in order to make quotas.

No one was expecting war in early June of 1914, but it exploded two months later. By October the New York Times reported that the Curtiss plant was running ’round the clock, six days a week. By year’s end Ingersoll-Rand was filling two boxcars with shells every day. By January Thomas was relocated in Ithaca. By spring Curtiss broke ground for huge new factories in Buffalo. It was good money while it lasted, but tens of thousands would be unemployed without warning, when the Armistice was signed in 1918.