Published January 31, 2026
By Rob Mellon
On a pleasant September morning in 1919, Lieutenant Samuel “Sammy” Pickard, a daring World War I pilot with a penchant for adventure, soared through the skies in his trusty biplane, the “Honeymoon Express.” The small aircraft, its wings glinting in the sunlight, carried not just the weight of its pilot but also the promise of thrilling joy rides for eager onlookers below. Pickard’s destination that day was Quincy, where he hoped to captivate paying customers with the sheer exhilaration of flight, a novelty that still felt like magic in the early 20th century.
After an unsuccessful attempt to land in Hannibal early that morning, Pickard was forced to divert his course. Undeterred, he charted a path to Monroe City before finally setting his sights on Quincy. By the time he arrived in the afternoon, the buzz of his engine had drawn curious spectators to the landing site close to the Quincy Country Club Golf Course landing in a field near 26th and State Streets.
As the bright red “Honeymoon Express” descended gracefully onto the grassy expanse, a large crowd gathered. For many, this was their first glimpse of an airplane up close, a marvel of human ingenuity that had only recently proven its mettle during WWI.
Lieutenant Pickard’s flying career during the First World War was extraordinary. After joining the Army Air Service, he trained with the Royal Flying Corps in Toronto. From being a University of Kansas student just a few years before he became a decorated aviator. He proudly wore a chevron earned during his two years of service in the skies over the Argonne area in France. With precision and skill, he brought down three enemy planes in fierce aerial combat. Yet, his bravery came at a cost. Twice, the planes he piloted were struck down in fiery engagements.
In fact, his aircraft was hit by enemy fire just 11 days before the Armistice ended the war. With smoke billowing and controls failing, Pickard made a difficult crash landing that left him seriously injured. He remained in a French hospital for seven months. After the war, he returned to his hometown of Kansas City, where he channeled his passion for aviation into a new chapter as part of the Lafayette Airplane Company.
In the early 20th century, filled with a barnstorming spirit, Pickard offered thrilling ten-minute flights for just $10 (equivalent to nearly $200 today). The scene near the Quincy Country Club was electric, with crowds gathering to witness this marvel of aviation. Several adventurous souls seized the opportunity to take to the skies, experiencing the exhilaration of flight for the first time.
The “Honeymoon Express” crew were so inundated with eager passengers that they worked tirelessly, skipping dinner to keep up with demand. Men, women, boys, and girls alike lined up for their turn. The joyrides continued into the early evening until an unexpected flat tire brought the day’s flights to an end.
Undeterred, Pickard resumed operations the next morning, offering a few more flights before soaring off to Palmyra, Missouri. Plans were set for a triumphant return to Quincy the following weekend.
The “Honeymoon Express” earned its whimsical name in celebration of Samuel Pickard and Francke Palmer’s daring decision to tie the knot in mid-air after a whirlwind five-day romance. It was a marriage ceremony unlike any other. However, this airborne wedding was not without its challenges. First, they needed a minister bold enough to perform the ceremony. In addition, there was one unusual requirement. The preacher had to weigh under 200 pounds due to the plane’s weight restrictions. The only willing minister tipped the scales at 207 pounds, leaving everyone wondering if love could overcome gravity itself.
In true romantic fashion, the group decided to go for it anyway. The plane initially struggled to take off, perhaps weighed down by both the preacher and the sheer excitement of the moment, but it eventually soared into the cloud-filled sky. Just days after exchanging vows, the newlyweds took to the skies over Quincy in a Curtiss JN-4 biplane.
The Curtiss JN-4, commonly known as the “Jenny,” was a two-seat biplane designed as a training aircraft. Introduced in 1916, it featured a 90-horsepower Curtiss engine, dual controls for instructor and student, and a wooden airframe covered with fabric. The Jenny became the primary trainer for the U.S. Army Air Service, with an estimated 95% of American pilots during the war trained on this aircraft.
After the war, surplus Jennys were widely used in civilian aviation, particularly during the barnstorming era of the 1920s, making it one of the most iconic airplanes in early American aviation history. Variants like the JN-4 (Canadian), or “Canuck,” were produced for the Royal Flying Corps and featured design modifications such as lighter airframes and different control systems. The “Honeymoon Express” was a JN-4 Canuck.
The excitement in Quincy reached its peak on Saturday, September 6, 1919, as the plane returned from Palmyra. Though no flights took off that Saturday, the air buzzed with anticipation for Sunday’s joy rides. Over 5,000 eager spectators had gathered at the field near the Country Club. The short flights offered a taste of freedom and exhilaration, until an unexpected accident brought the Quincy flights to a sudden end.
Just as the crew prepared for another thrilling day of spectator rides W.A. Thorpe, the mechanic for the “Honeymoon Express,” stepped forward to ready the plane for its next flight. He reached for the propeller to kickstart the engine, but in an instant, disaster struck. As Thorpe reached to pull down on the propeller, the engine roared to life unexpectedly. The powerful blades struck him, sending him tumbling to the ground badly injured.
Fortunately, fate intervened in the form of Dr. Franklin Brenner, a local physician who happened to be on-site. Without hesitation, Dr. Brenner rushed to Thorpe’s side and provided immediate care. The injured man was taken to the Newcomb Hotel where he spent the rest of his time in Quincy recovering from the incident.
Though shaken by the episode, the resilient crew of the “Honeymoon Express” pressed on. A few days later, they departed Quincy.
Rob Mellon is currently the Executive Director of the Historical Society of Quincy and Adams County and a U.S. Army Reserve Officer serving as an instructor with the University of Missouri ROTC program. He has served 27 years in the United States Army. He is on the Board of Directors of the Ulysses S. Grant Trail Association.
Sources:
“College of the Air Dean has been Appointed to Head U.S. Radio Farm Service,” Daily Quincy Herald, January 7, 1926.
“Flying Proving Popular Sport for Quincyans,” The Quincy Whig, September 3, 1919.
Passenger List of Organizations and Casuals, Headquarters Port of Embarkation of Hoboken, New Jersey, May 19, 1918.
“Pi Kappa Alpha,” The Jayhawker, 1915.
“Propeller Back Fires,” The Quincy Daily Herald, September 8, 1919. Quincy Herald Whig, March 3, 1929.
“Quincyans Take to the Air When Given a Chance,” The Quincy Whig, September 2, 1919.
Samuel Pickard Military Registration Card.
