Volume I: Narrative History

Chapter 7 (1914): Filming Episode No. 1

The filming of the first episode was related by Mae Tinee, syndicated columnist: Note

MAKING A BALLOON POSE FOR THE MOVIES: There was a lot of excitement around the Thanhouser studio at New Rochelle, N.Y. Leo Stevens, the aeronaut, had just announced that at last the big bulb was filled with gas and that the ascension could take place that afternoon - the ascension, you know, that figures in The Million Dollar Mystery picture. For three days we'd been waiting for that old balloon to get filled. After the Thanhouser Company had built its own gas plant, there was some trouble or other about getting the right kind of hose. So everything had taken longer than anybody had anticipated, and Mr. Hansel, the director, had gotten to the point that, whenever he saw anyone coming, he would cover his ears and run, for the first thing anybody said to him was: "When is the balloon going up?"

But the glad day arrived. A crowd of us was over in the studio watching a tragedy when suddenly Mr. Hansel burst in the door. Proceedings stopped. We all cried: "When - " And he shouted: "Now!" Whereat there was a howl and everybody not in the picture tore out of the door and into the machines, and over we went to the House of Mystery, where, painfully, one by one, we went up to the scuttle and emerged on the roof, where we found a handsome actor in a wild state of excitement and expectation - for he it was, you know, who was to be carried away.

We had all been chattering and gathering to beat the band, but the minute we saw him it was like a funeral. For, it flashed across us all of a sudden, what a risk he was to take. He had his makeup on and he was stooping by a puddle of water - it had been raining - sailing match boxes. We stood and watched him silently for a minute. Then somebody - I think it was Fan Bourke - pulled himself [sic] together and said loudly and trying-to-be cheerfully: "Low, boy, gee, isn't it great - hooray!" The gentleman crouching by the puddle looked up. Seeing us, he stood up. "Well, hello, folks!" he said. "Going to really come off, isn't it?"

They all chortled gleefully, but I sidled up to him and slipped my hand through his arm. "Honestly, aren't you scared to death?" I wanted to know. He patted my hand. "Not a bit!" he assured me. "Say, Miss Tinee, did you ever try sailing match boxes? No? Well, come on, I'll show you how. It's a great sport. You see you stick this part up for the sail - there! Then you give it a push - understand? Then you sort of wiggle the water and it goes any way you want it. Get the combination?"

"Uh huh," I said, my eyes never leaving his carefully put on face. "Say, listen, I want to ask you something." He bent down toward me. "You listen to me," he whispered. "Let's play with the match boxes until the big diddings dids, see? It'll help. The picture has to be taken, little girl. Help me to make it a good picture, will you?" I smiled back at him, but I think it must have been a funny kind of a smile. "Which way do you wiggle it to make it go south?" I asked, stooping. And he stooped, too, and we played with the match boxes for a long, long time.

Now, you see, if they had been going up from the ground it would have been comparatively easy. But the balloonist, after once he had started, had to stop at the roof and pick off the actor. That made it what he called a - - of a job! But he hadda do it. Funny what you can do when you gotta, isn't it? There was a yell from terra firma. We all peered over. The big bag, filled at last with its allotted measure of air, had been unloosened and was rising toward us and in the basket attached was a man who was swearing bloody murder at the property hands who, in some way or other, were not making good at the ropes.

Slowly it rose. Slowly it came toward us. (You have no notion how big a balloon looks when it isn't away up in the air.) The actor drew his hand slowly over my face and smiled at me. I smiled back. Then he tore to the railing and watched the ascent. Up, up it came, with the man in the basket swearing. A dear little old lady near me - not an actress, just somebody's mother - said in a horrified whisper to somebody near her: "Going to his death - and using such language!"

As the balloon came up over the roof the ropes in some way got tangled in the iron work and great pieces of it - the iron work - broke off and went crashing to the ground. We spectators were white with fear and stood clutching at each other, and Mr. Stevens in his basket, working like a wildcat to disentangle himself, was just as pale as we were, for you see, if one of the ropes had broken he would have shot to the ground, or if one of the spikes had happened to puncture the air bag it would have been all off. Oh, it was the most ghastly sight! I was never so frightened in my life!

At last, however, the balloon was freed and a dozen men on the roof held on to it while the actor grabbed at the basket and hoisted himself in. And as he did it the camera started grinding. Then the balloon man gave the word and away they went, so fast and high that before we had stopped cheering the figures in the basket could not be distinguished one from the other. We watched it from the roof for a long time, then some of us rode around in machines, trying to follow it. But it was no use, for it went out over the Sound and then a gasoline launch took after it in order to be on hand in case they should fall in the water.

After we got back to the hotel I was on pins and needles, believe me! I was so afraid that any minute I might hear that something dreadful had happened. When, at about 9 o'clock, I was called on the phone, I was so nervous I could hardly pick up the receiver. "Hello," I quavered. And the person at the other end of the wire said gaily: "Hello. I've come back to earth and am just going to eat my supper. We landed in a field in Brookville - with never a mishap. It was great! Come over to the studio tomorrow and I'll tell you about the trip."

And he did, next day in his dressing room while he was making up. You never saw anybody so enthusiastic in your life. Well, that was all about that part of the balloon stunt, but another picture had to be taken of the landing.

On Sunday then, Mr. Stevens, Mr. Hansel, several men, the photographer and myself set sail in a gasoline launch for the middle of the Sound, towing behind us a big, collapsed balloon on a pontoon. There had been a heavy sea that morning, but in the afternoon it had calmed down and there was only a heavy swell to tell the story. As we got out farther and farther, our little boat rocked and heaved. I swallowed and blinked and told myself there was nothing to this seasick business. Why should one be sick at sea any more than on land? Nonsense! Just then I looked at the photographer. He was looking wall-eyed at nothing in particular, and he was the most beautiful shade of jealous green you ever saw in your life. Woozily my eyes traveled to the face of Mr. Stevens. Then I looked away hastily, for with a muttered exclamation he made for the side of the boat and leaned over. The photographer saw him and quickly followed suit.

I said to Mr. Hansel: "It - it's a nice cool, cloudy, bracing day, isn't it?," to which he replied, cheerily: "You bet. There's nothing like the sea air for making a person feel fine. You're a good sailor, aren't you?" Somehow that cured me. I drew a deep breath, shut my eyes for a moment, and came to. "Yes," I told him, "I never get the least bit sick." And after that I didn't either.

Well, it was a long, trying afternoon, for once out the balloon had to be inflated by means of an air pump, cast adrift from the launch on the pontoon, and we had to circle around and round it getting pictures. It was trying because the aeronaut was so sick that he had to stop work every so often, and the photographer was so sick he'd be right in the midst of his grinding when he would have to tear away from his camera. By the time he'd get back we would be out of range and we'd have to turn around and go back and try it again. But everybody was game, and at last the director gave the word. The balloon was attached to the launch, the air was let out of it and we made for land again.

Coming back they let me steer the boat. I told them I never had before, but nobody believed me until just as we rounded into the channel I ran them into a mudbank. Nobody doubted me then, and while nobody swore everybody wanted to. I slunk back into a corner and kept very unpromiscuous while they pulled and tugged, and finally in desperation hailed a passing launch which towed us in. A most ignominious return!

The world was led to believe that the balloon escape took place from the roof of Charles Hite's mansion, but reality was different, as explained in the New Rochelle Evening Standard: Note

The scene made yesterday is to be a part of The Million Dollar Mystery, which Thanhouser is to release in June. The big picture is to be peppered thickly with exciting situations and hairbreath escapes. Leo Stevens, who was engaged by the Thanhouser concern to do the balloon act with the butler burglar, came to New Rochelle more than two weeks ago to prepare for the flight. It had been planned to make the picture from the roof of the Francis Wilson house, Meadow Lane, which Charles J. Hite, president of the Thanhouser concern, has taken for his residence. But a week ago, it was found that the roof was too steep. They then discovered that the roof of the Cedarcliff Hotel would do.

In order to have the right kind of gas, Mr. Stevens had to build his own generator in the Cedarcliff grounds on the shore of the mill pond. Then came the wait for the right breeze. Several days. They thought they could make the picture but they found that the wind was not in the right direction, and not only the aeronaut and his balloon, but the entire cast of the scene and the operating force had to wait. Meanwhile, however, other scenes were being made in the studio and around New Rochelle.

There was a good-sized crowd of people at the Cedarcliff to see the ascension, and nearly every street corner contained groups of watchers when the balloon sailed away. Many persons stood on house roofs with marine glasses or binoculars trained on the balloon until it was out of sight. Messrs. Bracy and Stevens say they were whirled about by circular wind currents high in the air and that they reached an altitude at one time of 12,000 ft. They say it was very cold and they were glad they had their overcoats.