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the abbreviated reign of “neon” leon spinks

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OOPS 78<br />

difficulty. Just to house <strong>the</strong> flying boat’s construction in Culver City on <strong>the</strong><br />

edge <strong>of</strong> Los Angeles, Hughes had to build what probably was <strong>the</strong> largest<br />

wooden building ever, a structure eight stories high and <strong>the</strong> length <strong>of</strong> two<br />

and a half football fields. For <strong>the</strong> plane itself, Hughes opted to use Duramold,<br />

a pro cess patented in <strong>the</strong> 1920s for laminating and molding thin<br />

sheets <strong>of</strong> plywood toge<strong>the</strong>r, but never before used for anything but small<br />

aircraft. His workers had to develop new pro cesses and equipment to<br />

shape each gigantic piece <strong>of</strong> plywood to exacting specifi cations. Keeping<br />

<strong>the</strong> plywood parts fastened toge<strong>the</strong>r was ano<strong>the</strong>r problem, until a subcontractor<br />

figured out how to glue <strong>the</strong> aircraft toge<strong>the</strong>r using epoxy resins<br />

cured at high temperatures. (The pieces were held toge<strong>the</strong>r temporarily<br />

by nails—eight tons <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m—until <strong>the</strong> glue dried.) Hughes became so<br />

fascinated with wood that even when <strong>the</strong> metal shortage eased in 1943, he<br />

stubbornly refused to follow government <strong>of</strong>fi cials’ recommendations that<br />

he switch to aluminum.<br />

Continually having to come up with such innovations ate up a lot <strong>of</strong><br />

time—as did Hughes’s increasingly disorderly mind and leadership style.<br />

He was an extreme micromanager who insisted on being consulted on<br />

every detail, no matter how small. But Hughes’s mysterious schedule <strong>of</strong>ten<br />

paralyzed <strong>the</strong> project; he was absent from <strong>the</strong> plant for weeks or<br />

months at a time, and when he did show up, it was usually in <strong>the</strong> middle<br />

<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> night. When Hughes was around to make decisions, <strong>the</strong>y frequently<br />

turned out to be bizarre ones. For example, he inexplicably hired a manufacturing<br />

supervisor who had no experience ei<strong>the</strong>r building airplanes or<br />

working with wood. And when an alarmed government <strong>of</strong>fi cial pointed<br />

out to Hughes that his specifications called for engines bigger and more<br />

powerful than anything in production, Hughes just said he would take<br />

responsibility for however things turned out.<br />

In <strong>the</strong> spring <strong>of</strong> 1943, Hughes slipped away to Lake Mead, ostensibly<br />

to ga<strong>the</strong>r data on amphibious landings for <strong>the</strong> flying boat. There, he<br />

crashed his personal Sikorsky S-43 seaplane, suffering yet ano<strong>the</strong>r head<br />

injury. His behavior became even more erratic. With <strong>the</strong> first plane due

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