Hardly had the new Seminary at Seton College (now the Administration Building) been occupied, when its first President was called to the recently erected See of Rochester. He was succeeded by the Rev. Dr. Michael A. Corrigan, then Vice-President, who at the early age of twenty-eight was placed in this important position. A few months later, on October 8th, Bishop Bayley named Dr. Corrigan Vicar-General of the diocese. Dr. Corrigan, an eminent educator, besides making many repairs, devoted his attention to reorganizing the program of studies. It was Dr. Corrigan, who, as Administrator of the diocese, as well as President of the college, dedicated the college chapel on February 6th, 1870. Bishop Bayley was at that time in Rome at the Vatican Council. In this chapel, on June 3rd, 1871, the noted convert, the Rev. William P. Salt, who became so thoroughly identified with Seton Hall, was elevated to the sacred ministry. Father Salt, still fresh in the memory of the older generation, was born in Brooklyn, New York, September 19th, 1837. Forced to take up the trade of carpenter at an early age, his insatiable thirst for knowledge led him to spend every leisure moment in reading and studying. In this way he completed not only the usual academic course, but became acquainted with several modern

languages and read law, at the same time supporting himself by doing odd jobs and teaching a country school. Although his parents were Baptists, Mr. Salt, in 1859, joined the Protestant Episcopal Church and decided to enter the ministry. He entered, in 1861, the Theological Seminary of Camden, South Carolina. In the second year of the war he was drafted in the Confederate Army and there served to the end. Not having the means of transportation, he and a companion started to make the journey home to the North from  Charleston on foot. Finally, late in the year 1865, he returned to his father's house, and found his family struggling with poverty. While helping his father at his trade he was accepted as a candidate for the Episcopal orders, and finally was promoted to the Protestant diaconate. Doubting the tenets of the Episcopal Church he made an investigation, and being convinced of the authority of the Catholic Church, he was baptized in St. Ann's Church, New York, by the Rt. Rev. Monsignor Preston, in 1867. Shortly afterwards he entered the Seminary at Seton Hall. Bishop Bayley sent him to the American College at Rome, where he went through the trying days when Garabaldi attacked the city and despoiled the Church of its temporal power. He returned to Seton Hall and was ordained. He occupied successively the chairs of Logic, History, Political Economy, Evidences, Mathematics and Natural Science, and was Director of the seminary and Treasurer of the college for many years during the presidencies of Dr. Corrigan and the Rev. James H. Corrigan. He was made Vicar-General of the diocese by Bishop Wigger, and continued to teach and to direct the affairs of the seminary until within two years of his death, which occurred on October 7th, 1891. His courage, his honesty, his frankness and his unfailing courtesy won him the respect, the confidence and admiration of all. He bequeathed to Seton Hall his large and well selectedlibrary.
            In September, 1872, Bishop Bayley received the Apostolic letters appointing him Archbishop of Baltimore. Dr. Corrigan was made Administrator of the diocese, and was consecrated Bishop of Newark in the old New York Cathedral by Archbishop, later Cardinal McCloskey, in 1873. He was the youngest bishop in the Catholic Hierarchy in America. He retained his office as President of Seton Hall until 1876 when he transferred the duties of this position to his brother, the Rev. James H. Corrigan. In 1878-1879 he held the 3rd and 4th Synods of the Newark diocese. In 1880, as Titular Archbishop of Titra, he became Coadjutor to Cardinal McCloskey of New York, whom he succeeded on October 10th, being the youngest archbishop of a Metropolitan See. After his transfer to New York he still continued his interest in Seton Hall. He donated a burse to the seminary in 1884. It is not the time nor the place to speak of the trials and difficulties which he had to meet, and which, in his gentle, yet determined manner, he surmounted. Besides founding St. Joseph's Seminary at Dunwoodie, he had the satisfaction of completing the spires of St. Patrick's Cathedral. He passed to his reward on May 5th, 1902.

            Among the noted personages associated with Seton Hall we cannot omit the name of the grandnephew of the Revered Mother Elizabeth Seton, the Most Rev. Robert Seton, D.D., Archbishop of Heliopolis, Born in Pisa, Italy, August 28ih, 1839, he enjoyed every advantage in the course of his studies, both at home and abroad, and early developed a taste for the Old World with its memories, which was always a mark of his character. He had the distinction of being made Prothonotary Apostolic by Pope Pius IX shortly after his ordination, which took place on April 15th, 1865. After a short stay at the Cathedral, he was appointed Chaplain of the Mother House at St. Elizabeth's, a position which he filled for nine years. To St. Elizabeth's he came when the alarms and ravages of war disturbed the peace of Europe robbing him of the repose and tranquillity which lie enjoyed after his retirement from the pastorate of St. Joseph's, Jersey City, in 1901. He was a frequent visitor and lecturer at Seton Hall in his early years. At the end he left the scant remains of his private fortune to the college as. a fund for the support of poor students. He was called to his reward in March, 1927.

            The Reverend James H. Corrigan was born in Newark on June 29th, 1844. Having completed his preparatory studies, he made his college course at Mt. St. Mary's, Emmittsburg, Maryland, and then went to the American College in Rome. Returning to America, he was ordained in the chapel at Seton Hall College, on October 20th, 1867. He had been a professor at the college and Director of the seminary, and was appointed Vice-President in 1872. when his brother, Dr. M. A. Corrigan, became President. During his administration in 1876, Father Corrigan devoted his efforts to the organizing of an Alumni Association. His efforts met with considerable success, and he gathered about him clergymen, lawyers, physicians and merchants who had proved themselves worthy of their Alma Mater. After organization he proposed to the members the erection of Alumni Hall, the cornerstone of which was laid on October 28th, 1883. This building, of undressed brownstone, presents a solid and yet artistic appearance. It was originally used for recreational purposes. In 1923 it was completely equipped as a science building, with laboratories, demonstration and classrooms, at a cost of $22,654.41. During his administration the college celebrated its Silver Jubilee, which was signalized by a great gathering of the alumni. The program for the Commencement enumerates among the speakers the name of Charles Joseph Sharkey, who, together with the remaining graduates of the Class of '81, the Rt. Rev. Msgr. Eugene P. Carroll, Rt. Rev. Msgr. Joseph H. Meehan, and the Rev. Edward A. Kelly, received the Degree of Doctor of Laws at the Diamond Jubilee Commencement this year. The address to the graduates on that occasion was delivered by the Rt. Rev. Bernard J. McQuaid. The jubilee dinner was transferred from the Commencement Day to July 14th, no doubt in order not to conflict with the retreats of the clergy, which then, as now, took place in the weeks following Commencement. Another reason may be that, according to the program for this dinner, there were twelve speeches. Among the speakers were the Most Rev. Archbishop Corrigan, the Rev. Januarius DeConcilio, the Rev. John J. Tighe; from the laity, Professor Theodore Blume, Dr. R. Dunkin Harris, the Hon. John V. Kernan, John R. Plunkett, a noted merchant, John L. C. Caruana and Dr. Daniel Eliott. Thirteen received the degree of Bachelor of Arts, a contrast to the seventy receiving it at the Diamond jubilee Commencement. The administration of Father Corrigan was marked by another blow to the developing college. On March 9th, 1886, during the dinner hour, the college building became a prey to the flames. Nothing daunted,

 

Alumni Hall was hastily turned into a living and study building, purposes which it served again after the fire of 1909. A peculiar feature of this fire was, that it was known in South Orange and Newark before anybody in the college suspected its existence. The driver of the lone horse car which in those days made a trip from the old car barns to the college every forty minutes, noted on his midday trip that smoke was issuing from the roof. With a wisdom that was uncanny, he judged that more time would be gained by driving his car rapidly to South Orange and giving the alarm than by going up to the college. Thus the Fire Departments of Newark and South Orange were on their way to the place before the dwellers of the college left their tables, still unaware of the condition that existed. Just as in the case of 1909, very little was saved, and the building, save for its walls, was a total loss. Immediately the Board of Trustees was called into session, on March 23rd, to appeal for funds for the restoration of the Hall. In January, 1887, the classrooms were ready for occupancy and in May, 1888, the dormitories were again occupied. On account of poor health, no doubt superinduced by the labors and worries of the fire, "Father James", as he was familiarly called, resigned from the presidency. He died on November 27th, 1891, after a two years' pastorate at St. Mary's, Elizabeth, N. J. The influence of Father James Corrigan on the culture and training of the students left an impress which years have not defaced. Always courteous and condescending, to the youngest as well as to the oldest, ever watchful for their intellectual advancement, he was sincerely sympathetic with the students in the trials incidental to their youthful training. Father Corrigan was succeeded by the Rev. William F. Marshall, who at the time was Vice-President and Treasurer.

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Bernard ‘Barney’ Corrigan
(1847-1914)

            Bernard Corrigan’s name means two things:  Kansas City’s first city-wide street railway, and one of the most spectacular houses in the Country Club district.

            ‘Barney’ Corrigan was born in Quebec, August 15, 1847 to a successful Canadian farm family.  Twenty-one years later, he and his brothers came to Kansas City to make their mark.  When he died here 46 years later, Corrigan had made his fortune, largely in railroads.

            Barney Corrigan, and his older brother, Thomas, bought up their competition here.  Before 1900, they put together 15 separate rail lines, creating one single city-wide streetcar system that really worked.  A first for Kansas city.

            Corrigan’s more recent renown stems from his remarkable house.  In 1912 Barney commissioned Kansas City’s flamboyant architect and fellow Canadian Louis Curtiss to design a splendid house (25 rooms) for his family.  Corrigan had 18 offspring - ten by his first wife, and eight by his second.

            Curtiss designed a strikingly modern horizontal two-storey Art Nouveau house of concrete.  He faced it with Carthage cut stone and set it on a large corner lot on the north-west corner of 55th and Ward Parkway.  It was estimated to cost upwards of $200,000.00.

            On January 6, 1914, only a few minutes before going south to inspect its progress, 66 year old Barney Coirrigan was stricken and died.  So the family never occupied their stunning house, still much admired at 1200 West 55th Street, Kansas City, Kansas.

OBITUARY
THE KANSAS CITY TIMES
January 7, 1914
BERNARD CORRIGAN DEAD
PIONEER AND FORMER STREET RAILWAY
HEAD EXPIRED SUDDENLY
He Rallied From a Heart Attack Early
Yesterday, but Succumbed to a
Second One Late in the Afternoon

            Bernard Corrigan, contractor and former president of the Metropolitan Street Railway Company, died at his home, 1701 Summiet Street, at 2:50 o’clock yesterday afternoon, of heart failure.  He was 66 years old.

            Mr. Corrigan arose early yesterday morning, apparently in his usual health.  He ate a hearty breakfast and  about 7:00 o’clock went into the sitting room to read the papers.  A few minutes later he was seized with a heart attack.  Dr. J. Block and Dr. R.T. Sloan were summoned.  Later Mr. Corrigan seemed to rally from the stroke.  He did not lose consciousness all day.

            “Well, it was a pretty stiff jolt, all right,” he told members of the family who gathered around his bedside, “but I’ll pull through.”  The physicians also believed he would survive the attack.

SECOND ATTACK WAS FATAL

            A few minutes before 3:00 o’clock, with twelve of his fourteen children and many relatives and friends around him, Mr. Corrigan had a second attack and died immediately.  His son, Emmett, absent from the city on business, and a daughter, Mrs. Robert Salembier of New York, were the only children not present.

            Mr. Corrigan’s health failed about two years ago and for a while he gave up active charge of his affairs.  His condition improved later, however, and he resumed the management of his contracting business. The attack yesterday was the first indication of any serious trouble since that time.

NEW HOME NOT OCCUPIED

            Mr. Corrigan was to leave in a few minutes to inspect his new home in Sunset Hill when he was stricken.  He expected to move into the house, erected at the corner of Fifty-fifth Street and Ward Parkway, at a cost of $125,000, about the 1st of March.

            The residence is absolutely fireproof.  The roof and cornice are of re-enforced concrete, as well as all the floors, partitions, and walls.  The main hall is of marble, with marble stairs.  The remainder of the first floor contains a large living room, sun room, music room, dining room, breakfast room, kitchen, and pantries.  The entire house contains twenty-five rooms.

IN EARLY DAY STREET CAR LINE

            Mr. Corrigan was born in Canada in 1847, and came to Kansas City in 1868.  He formed a partnership with his brothers, Thomas and Patrick, to engage in railroad construction and amassed a fortune, which was largely invested in Kansas City real estate and street railroads.  In 1875 he and his brother Thomas effected the organization of a company which purchased all the street railroads in Kansas City except the old mule car line to Westport, owned by Nehemiah Holmes.  In 1886 the Metropolitan Street Railway Company was organized to take over all of the lines in both cities and the Corrigan interests were purchased for 1 million dollars.

IN RAILWAY CONSTRUCTION

            Mr. Corrigan then devoted his attention to his contracting business and built a large part of the Kansas City, Pittsburg and Gulf and the Choctaw, Oklahoma & Gulf railroads.

            In May, 1902, he gave up his work as a builder of dams, railroad grades, and construction work of all kinds in the West and South and returned to the street car business as president of the Metropolitan to succeed Walton H. Holmes, also C.F. Homes as president of the Kansas City Electric Light Company.  During his presidency an effort was made to get a 42-year franchise for the company.  After the defeat of this franchise in December, 1909, Mr. Corrigan resigned as president.  That was January 12, 1910.  He was succeeded as president by John M. Egan, who became general manager for the receivers when the Metropolitan was taken into the federal court.

MR. CORRIGAN’S FAMILY

            On his retirement from the Metropolitan Mr. Corrigan resumed his contracting operations.  His last large piece of construction work was the O.K. Creek sewer, which was recently finished as a part of the now Union Station and terminal plans.  Mr. Corrigan was a part owner of the Hotel Baltimore and a stockholder in the First National Bank.

            Mr. Corrigan’s first wife was Mamie Shannon, daughter of Patrick Shannon, a pioneer dry goods merchant and former mayor, who for many years conducted a store on the levee.  She died in 1894.  His second wife, who is still living, was Miss Hattie Fourt of Baltimore.  There were ten children by his first marriage and eight by his second.  Bernard Corrigan, Jr., his third son, died November 20, 1907.  Eight children by his first wife survive him.  They are John, Edward, Emmett, Mrs. William T. Murray, Mrs. Howard Austin, Mrs. Ward Clay all of Kansas City, and Mrs. Robert Salembier of New York City.  The children by his second wife are Francis Lee, Richard, Robert, Virginia, Harriet and Bernard.  Bernard, the youngest is 3 years old.  Mr. Corrigan was one of Twelve children.  Two sisters and one brother are still living.  The are Mrs. John Burke, Miss Ellen Corrigan and Edward Corrigan, noted as a turfman.

THE FUNERAL FRIDAY MORNING
Nephews of the Dead Capitalist Will Act as Pallbearers

            Funeral services for Mr. Corrigan will be held at 9:30 o’clock Friday Morning at the Cathedral, Eleventh Street and Broadway.  The active pallbearers, who are nephews of Mr. Corrigan, will be John Carroll, Charles Carroll, John Halpin, Hames Halpin, Patrick Dunne, Frank Dwyer, Jay Tachudy and J. Burke.  The honorary pallbearers will be E.F. Swinney, J.F. Richards, James A. Reed, W.S. Wowherd, R.J. Ingraham, F.B. Heath, Frank J. Dean, Thomas A. Till, Hal Gaylord, Judge James Ellison, Judge C.E. Moss, Thomas Phillips, C. W. Armour, C.J. Cronin, Charles S. Keith, T.T. Crittenden and Thoas McGee.
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Douglas 'Wrong Way' Corrigan
(1907 - 1995)

            On July 16, 1938, exactly a week after he had arrived in New York on a solo nonstop flight from Los Angeles, 31-year-old Douglas Corrigan was waiting at Floyd Bennett field for permission to take off on his return flight.

            His plane was a 165 hp singleengine 1929 Curtiss Robin, rickety, and half a ton overloaded with extra fuel.  It had an endurance of about 30 hours at a cruising speed of 100 mph.  On paper he had a fair margin for the flight.  In practice, however, he had only four gallons to spare, about 20 minutes of flying, when he had landed in New York City.

            Corrigan’s idol was Lindbergh.  Eleven years earlier he had worked as a machanic for the Ryan Co., preparing the plane that Lindbergy flew on his solo crossing of the Atlantic.  Corrigan had long wanted to repeat that flight, but permission had been consistently refused.  Longdistance flights in private planes had not been popular since the disappearance of Amelia Earhart the previous year.

            Even the nonstop flight from California to New York had required subterfuge.  Corrigan had been careful not to declare his intention.  He fueled at two different California fields so as not to arouse suspicion.

            On July 16, the weather forecast for the return trip was good, and Corrigan announced his intention of taking off at midnight.

            At first the airport manager refused permission, but then he relented.  “It’s OK for you to get ready,” he said.  “You can take off at dawn.”

            It took 1,000 yards to get off the ground.  Even at 50 feet the controls were sloppy and sluggish, and Corrigan realized he would need more speed and height before he could safely turn onto his course.  He flew on east over Long Island while he slowly gained height.

            By the time he reached 500 feet, the ground below was obliterated by fog.  He began a gentle turn, then stared at his compass in dismay.  It wasn’t working properly.  The liquid inside had smehow leaked away.

            Fortunately there was a second compass, down on the floor near his feet.  All he had to do was to continue his turn until he had lined up the compass correctly.  When this point was reached he settled on course, still climbing steadily, the ground still hidden by fog.

            In fact, Corrigan had perpetrated a navigational howler.  He had misread the second compass, and he was flying on a reciprocal course, east instead of west, out to sea.

            Despite the fog several persons caught occasional glimpses of his plane.  The suspicions of officials at Floyd Bennett field were quickly aroused.  The plane was heading deliberately out to sea.  Corrigan’s rejected applications for an Atlantic flight were recalled.  Irked by the persistent refusals of the Bureau of Air Commerce, Corrigan had said, “Why not land at Floyd Bennett field late one-evening when senior officials have gone home, fill up with gasoline, and just go?”  No one could hang him for it.

            But Corrigan had given his friends not the smallest hint that he might be about to attempt the Atlantic crossing.  He had no radio.  He had no weather data for the Atlantic.  His only map was of the U.S., and it was marked out for a route via Memphis and El Paso.  Apart from a few fig bars and some chocolate he had no food.  He had no warm clothing, no water, no clearance papers, no passport.

            Then there was the question of his plane’s reliability.  Corrigan was an experienced mechanic.  So he would be well arare that his machine, safe enough perhaps for flying over land where a forced landing was feasible, was quite unsuitable for a sea crossing.  Corrigan had arrived in New York with a leaky gas tank, and rather than remove and weld it, which would have held him up for another week, he had decided to risk it.  It was inconceivable that he would have taken such a chance if intending to fly east.

            Both friends and officials recalled Corrigan’s care over the weather.  He had studied the cross-country conditions but he had been given no weather information about the Atlantic.  If the easterly flight had been his intention he had carried out a suicidal bluff.

            In Los Angeles Corrigan showed himself capable of subtlety.  But there his friends had been let into the secret of his New York trip.  It seemed preposterous to them that they could have been left in the dark about this much bigger enterprise.  Corrigan had, such a frank disposition that his friends did not believe him capable of such deceit.

            The New York authorities, however, took a different view.  Soon after Corrigan’s take-off, they warned all shipping in the Atlantic to look out for his plane.

            Meanwhile, Corrigan was two hours out of New York.  Through a gap in the clouds he caught glimpses of city which he took to be Baltimore.  It was Boston.

            He was flying now between two solid layers of cloud.  There was nothing at all to be seen, either above or below, and there was nothing he could do but follow his compass.  He steadily gained height.

            It was not until he had been airborne for ten hours that he caught a brief glimpse through the clouds.  It did nothing to disabuse him.  He was crossing Newfoundland and there was no sign of sea.

            Corrigan’s attention was now distracted by something else.  His feet were cold.  Looking down he sa that fuel from the leaky gas tank was seeping into the cockpit and soaking his shoes.

            Clouds were building up beneath him and he was still gaining height, keeping just clear.  After 14 hours flyinghe estimated that he must be over Little Rock, Arkinsas, halfway across the States.  Night was falling, Corrigan concentrated on his rudimentary instruments.  A turn-and-blank indicator and air-speed gauge were all he had.

            Sometimes there were fleeting breaks in the cloud and he peered below for lights, but he was not greatly surprised at seeing nothing.

            His chief concern was the leaking fuel tank.  He could hear the gasoline, an inch deep, sloshing about on the floor.  He had no idea how much fuel he had left; there were no gauges.  Worse still was his insistent fear that the plane might catch fire.  If the fuel leaked out through the cockpit floor near the exhaust pipe and ignited, the wooden fuselage would be a furnace within seconds.  He had no parachute.

            He had to do something to get rid of this carpet of gasoline.  He took a screw driver and punched a hole in the floor on the side opposite the exhaust pipe.  Soon the cockpit was almost dry.

            It seemed pointless to keep the engine at the economical setting of 1,600 revolutions per minute.  The best thing was to use the fuel before it leaked away.  He revved the engine up to 1,900, burning up his fuel at a much faster rate but making better air speed.  He was now racing to get as far as he could bfore his fuel gave out.

            Dawn came slowly, with still no sign of the sun.  During the night he had climbed to 8,000 feet, but he was still flying between cloud layers, almost scraping the bottom layer with his wheels.  Ahead of him now the cloud-free corridor seemed to be closing as great masses of cumulo-nimbus piled up to a height of 15,000 feet.  Climbing up above those mountainous clouds was beyond the capacity of his plane, and he had no alternative but to enter the storm clouds and fly on instruments.  For the next two hours the plane bucked and reared.  Visibility was reduced to nothing by driving rain which coated the windshield and seeped through the cockpit hood.

            After a time the rain turned to sleet, and the wings began icing up.  Corrigan’s de-icing gear was an eight-foot stick.  He poked it out the cabin window and managed to knock some ice off, but he was obsessed by the worry that his instruments would ice up, leaving him with no check on his air speed.  He worried that he might be among mountains, but he feared the icing even more, se he put the nose down and a steep descent.

            At 3,500 feet he emerged from the cloud, puzzled to find the he was over the sea.  He must have flown right across the continent and be over the Pacific.  How far out to sea could he be? He looked back over his shoulder.  There was no land in sight.

            His first reaction was to turn back at once for the Pacific coast.  He could not get over his surprise at crossing America in 26 hours, but he still had no check on his fuel, and if he didn’t find land quickly he was facing disaster.

            As Corrigan prepared to turn back he glanced down at the compass.  It was slightly in the shadow, not oo easy to read.  Blood rushed to his head when he realized the beginner’s error, he had made.  For more the 26 hours he had been using the wrong end of the magnetic needle.

            His mind boggled at the complexity of the navigational problem that faced him.  In the end he decided that he simply didn’t have the strength of mind to calculate a new course.  With luch he hoped that his present heading might bring him in somewhere over Ireland.  How soon that might be, and whether his fueld would last, he had no idea, and he tried not to think about it.  But in fact, westerly winds had been helping him for many hours, and he was not far short of the Irish coast.

            Within a few minutes he caught sight of a small trawler.  He put the nose of his plane down and idived gently towards it but could see no signs of life on board.

            Perhaps the seamen were having lunch.  For the first time he realized that he had eaten nothing since Saturday evening, and it was now Monday afternoon.  He was chewing up fig bars ravenously when amorphous clouds on the horizon suddenly seemed to resolve themselves into a sharper outline.  There was a tinge of colous about them, too, a greenness that could only mean land.  After 27 hours flying wrong direction he had crossed the Atlantic.

            Forty-five minutes later he came to another coastline, and realized that he had flown across Ireland.  He turned south along the coast.  A small fighter plane came in close to take a look at him, then dived away and disappeared.  Soon he found an airport marked Baldonnel.  He remembered, from his planned crossing of the previous year, that this was the airport for Dublin.  He circled carefully, then came in to a perfect landing.

            “My name’s Corrigan,” he told the airport official who came out to meet him.  “I’ve just come from New York.”  He expected this to cause a sensation.

            “Yes, we Know.”

            “You Know? How?”

            “New York warned us about you.  They saw you start out and guessed you were making for Ireland.  And we had a report that your plane had been seen up north.”

            At first everything went smoothly.  Officials showed great toleration.  The only time when Corrigan ran into difficulties was when he tried to explain how the flight had gone wrong.  Whenever he got to this point in the story, the party would always break up.

            It was the same when he met the American ambassador, and again when he was introduced to Prime Minister de Valera.  As soon as he got to the part about misreading the second compass, everyone started to laugh.  “Now tell the real story” was everyone’s reaction.

            But Corrigan insisted that his Atlantic flight had been unintentional.  “It sure does show what a fool navigator a guy can be.”

            “That’s my story,” was his attitude, “and I’m sticking to it.”  He showed a refreshing reluctance to capitalize on his flight, refusing all easy-money offers.  When a reporter offered him $500 for an exclusive story he told him he could have it for nothing.

            “Most amazing thing I ever heard of!” was the reaction of the American ambassador in Dublin.  “But what are you going to do when the experts get to questioning you?”

            Corrigan certainly had some explaining to do.  It was remarkable that he never saw the sun in 26 hours, strange that the reciprocal couse should bring him in exactly over Ireland.  Some of this seemed to be more than mere coincidence.

            Did Wrong-Way Corrigan make an honest mistake? Or did he bring off one of the most spectacular hoaxes of all time?

            The answer remains as equivocal today as it was immediately after the flight, when the U.S. Flag association awarded Corrigan its medal of 1938, and he was unanimously elected an honorary member of the Liars Club of America.

(src:  The Catholic Digest / March, 1968)

            Corrigan earned about $85,000 from lectures, magazine articles, a book ‘That’s My Story (1938)’ and a motion picture, ‘The Flying Irishman’,  He managed to keep about $50,000 he said, and most of what’s left is invested in his orange grove grove.

            During World War II, Douglas flew for the Army ferry command and later tested bombers as a civilian.  After the was he and a friend started a freight service with a surplus C-47 transport and flew everything from gold ore to strawberries.

            He lived the life of a county squire with his wife and three sons on his 20-acre orange grove in California.  When he died he still had the toothy Irish grin and unruly shock of hair so familiar to newspaper reader of 1938.  His famous plane is in storage, and the Texas-born pilot hoped someday to re-assemble it and donate it to an aviation museum.

Douglas Corrigan died Saturday, December 9, 1995, in Orange, California.  He was survived by two sons, Douglas, of Santa Ana and Harry, of Apex, North Carolina, and a sister, Evelyn, of Santa Ynez, California.

(src:  Washington Evening Star / July 17, 1958 / New York Times OBITUARIES Thursday, December 14, 1995)

INTERNMENT

Douglas Corrigan "Wrong Way"  b. 1907. d. 1995.
Pilot that was to fly to the West coast but ended up in Ireland instead.
Fairhaven Memorial Park, Santa Ana, California, USA
Specific Interment Location: Block M, Grave 31.

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Raymond Bernard “Crash” Corrigan
(1903 - 1976)

            Corrigan, an actor, stuntman and cowboy, built the outdoor movie studio, Corriganville, which was renamed Hopetown in 1966 when comedian Bob Hope bought the property.  It was the location of the filming of 3,500 movies from the 1930s to 1960s, including the “Rin Tin Tin” television series, “Tarzan”, and “Fort Apache”.

            Getting into movies was a twist of fate for Corrigan, who was born Raymond Bernard on February 14, 1903, a son of Bernhardt Bernard and Ida Von Horne, on the grounds of the Joseph Schlitz brewery in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.  In his teens, while he worked for a furniture company, he studied electricity and electronics. He later opened his own radio and electrical business. It is said that he invented and patented many devices, holding more than 21 patents, including one for an electrical blood circulator used in hospitals. However, searching from 1922 to 1962, I found no patents in his name.

            While living in Denver, Colorado, he opened his own physical culture school, while also receiving many physique awards. It was in Denver that he first studied dramatics in school (his father had been a Grand Opera soloist). He joined the Benham Stock Company, and, later, a Los Angeles Company, which led him to California in 1920's (a 1962 article stated it was 1927 while a booklet stated 1922; all that I have found for certain is that he was in Los Angeles by 1925 when he was residing at 5426 Sierra Vista and working as a salesman at C.N. Herod).

            In 1927 he was running a radio equipment shop at 2541 Crenshaw Blvd., and in 1930, he had a reducing machine business at 2611 W. 7th, both located in Los Angeles.

            He worked for Bernard Macfadden for four years as a physical culture instructor at the studios. In that capacity, he met Cedric Gibbons who convinced Ray to sign a five year contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

            He signed with Republic Studios in 1935, where he became a western star.  It was while working with John Carradine in the “Dr. X” series, when he went to Republic Studios, where he starred in a serial, “Undersea Kingdom”.  It was in the serial that he got the name by which he was to be remembered.  The leading character, whom he played, was called “Crash Corrigan”, and Bernard, who had decided his own name was not right for an action-adventure star, adopted it for his own.  Although a star athlete growing up, Corrigan suffered from curvature of the spine.  Educated and raised in Denver, Colorado, his parents moved to Hollywood, California, and Corrigan received physical therapy from Bernard McFadden.  Tall and described as a bit clumsy by his son, Tom Corrigan, Corrigan overcame his back problem.  While at at McFadden’s studio, a director of the silent “Tarzan” films spotted him and hired him to replace a stuntman who was killed during production.

            The first use of Ray Corrigan as his stage name was in the serial Undersea Kingdom. Where did the name "Crash" come from? Chuck Anderson of The Old Corral lists all of the reported stories, but I need to include one that has not been reported. In the MGM Tarzan film The Capture of Tarzan (an unreleased feature that was reworked into Tarzan Escapes), he was a stunt double for Johnny Weissmuller and Clark Gable as well as doing bit parts in many films, for one of the aerial scenes, Ray Corrigan crashed into a tree, breaking his leg and losing all the toes on that leg. Could he have obtained the "Crash" moniker at this time as it was used in his next film, Undersea Kingdom, as his character's nickname? Also, during filming of Darkest Africa, while dressed in his ape suit, Ray crashed to the ground while attempting a vine swing.  Corrigan soon found himself swinging on vines for Johnny Weismuller and earned the name “Crash” because he would do any stunt.

            During the filming on Undersea Kingdom, Corrigan said he was hurt many times, but the most serious was when the director, "Breezy" Eason had a dynamite charge set between the camera and "Crash". Ray should have been at least 25 feet away, but the director had him much closer. At the hospital, 225 rocks were taken out of his back.

            In 1934, Corrigan made his film debut, taking all the parts he could.  The next year Republic Studieos cast him in the 12-episode chapter play, “The Leathnecks Have Landed”, which gained him recognition among fans and heads of studios.  Republic then cast him in “Undersea Kingdom”, the story of Atlantis, which made Corrigan a star.  Republic also cast him in the role of “Mesquiteers” along with Bob Livingston and Sid Saylor.  the first movie in the series was “The Three Mesquiteers”, which was followed by sequels, which later found Max Terhune replacing Saylor and John Wayne replacing Livingston.  Corrigan made 24 of the “Mesquiteers” series.

In 1936, Republic Pictures began their long running series, The Three Mesquiteers [please visit Chuck Anderson's The Old Corral for a LOT more information on The Three Mesquiteers]. Ray appeared in the first 24 of them, from 1936 to 1939. Because of a hunting trip while filming one of these flicks, he discovered a ranch that he knew would make a great movie location ranch.

In 1937 he purchased that ranch in Simi Valley and immediately set about creating a motion picture location ranch. Named the Ray Corrigan Movie Ranch, filming appears to have commenced in late 1937 or early 1938.

It was around this time that he supposedly married for the first time, while on a cross country tour. The woman he married stated that she was pregnant with his child. He married her, but when she had no baby, the marriage was annulled. A little latter, he married Rita Jane Smeal and they had three children:  Tommy Ray (born July 7, 1944), Joyce Christine (born July 10, 1945), and Patricia Ann (born July 12,1946).

            In 1940, he moved to Monogram Studios and co-produced another series of westerns, “The Range Busters”.  Playing in the westerns wasn’t Corrigan’s only interest in films; he also made 100 movies playing the part of a gorilla.

            In 1949, he decided to open his movie ranch to the general public on weekends. So, renaming the property as Corriganville, the ranch became one of the nation's busiest tourist attractions (this was pre-Disneyland time).

            While on location in the Simi Valley, west of the San Fernando Valley, Corrigan spotted a picturesque ranch at the east end of town.  The rancher wanted $12,000 for the huge property.  After putting a deposit on the property, Corrigan went on the road with country western singer Eddie Dean.  Upon returning to Simi Valley a short time later, he found the rancher had upped the price of the ranch to $15,000 and gave Corrigan only three weeks to raise the money.  In 1949, he decided to open his movie ranch to the general public on weekends. So, renaming the property as Corriganville, the ranch became one of the nation's busiest tourist attractions (this was pre-Disneyland time).

            Corrigan traveled back East to raise the money, visited his future wife, Rita, and high-tailed it back to Simi Valley and bought the ranch.

            After marrying, Corrigan moved his family to the ranch from Hollywood, and moved out much of Hollywood at the same time.  Movie studios started to film at Corriganville, bringing stars such as Clark Gable, Gary Cooper, Rita Hayworth, and Errol Flynn.  When 20th Century Fox made “Fort Apache”, it constructed the fort at Corriganville.  Howard Hughes built “Vendetta Village” there, Warner Bros. Trimmed a few trees for “Robin Hood”, and Columbia built a lake for “Tarzan”.

            In 1948, Corrigan decided to open Corriganville to the public on the weekend for tours.  The first weekend open, he found himself turning people away.  At Corriganville, the public was able to see where the films were made and mingle with the stars at the same time.  By 1953, it was the most popular attraction in the Southland.  About 22,000 persons a day went to Corriganville.

            In 1954, he and his wife Rita divorced. She had been seeing Moses S. (Bud) Stiltz, the ranch foreman, while Ray had been seeing a young performer at the ranch, Elaine Zazueta (stage name, Elaine DuPont).  In January 1959, while Bud (no longer employed at Corriganville; now a welder) was visiting Rita at her home (with her three children there), Carl (Alfalfa) Switzer showed up demanding payment of $50 on a debt owed to him by Bud. In the ensuing fight, Bud shot Switzer dead. It was ruled justifiable homicide.

            Ray married the young performer he had been seeing, Elaine Zazueta. They were later divorced. She remarried, but Ray did not. He simply lived with Irene Bacus, who survived him.

            Most of his later years as an actor was inside a gorilla suit which he designed and owned, many times playing the part unbilled.  After his divorce, Corrigan sold the ranch to Bob Hope in 1965 for $3 million.  He stayed on there for a year, and Hope closed the ranch in 1967.

            Corrigan died on August 10, 1976 in his home in Brookings Harbor, Oregon, at age 73,  of a heart attack.  In addition to his wife Irene, Corrigan leaves a son, Robert of Thousand Oaks, and a daughter, Patricia Ann of Canoga Park..

            Corrigan’s film credits included:  Heart of the Rockies; Hit the Saddle; Range Defenders; Riders of the Whistling Skull; Roarin’ Lead; The Three Mesquiteers; West of Pinto Basin.

RAY CORRIGAN - WHAT IS HIS REAL NAME?

According to most published accounts from a variety of sources, Ray "Crash" Corrigan was born Raymond Bernard. Another source, at one time, stated it was Ray Bennetts (pronounced Benitz), but in a later account corrected it to Ray Benard. The prior sources state that Raymond Bernard legally changed his name to Ray Benard in honor of Bernarr MacFadden. Some sources then state that he legally changedhis name to Ray Corrigan after his character's name in the serial Undersea Kingdom.

Here is what was given on his social security application:

Legal Name:                 RAYMOND BENARD
Father's Name: BERNHARDT BERNARD
Mother's Name:            IDA VON HORNE
Professional Name:       RAY CORRIGAN
Date of Application:      February 5, 1937
Signature:                     RAY BENARD (Corrigan is crossed out)

What does this information tell us? Evidently, his surname at birth was BERNARD and that sometime between 1902 and 1937 he legally changed his surname to BENARD. As of Feb. 5, 1937, that was his legal name, CORRIGAN being only his Professional Name (i.e. stage name).

 

(src:  Center for Motion Picture Study / Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences)

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S. Christa (Corrigan) McAuliffe
(1948 - 1986)

            Christa Corrigan was born on September 2, 1948, in Boston, Massachusetts to Mr. and Mrs. Edward C. Corrigan, who reside in Framingham, Massachusetts.

            Christa graduated from Marian High School, Framingham, Massachusetts, in 1966; received a bachelor of arts degree from Framingham State College in 1970; and a masters degree in education from Bowie State College, Bowie, Maryland in 1978.

            Christa Corrigan married Steven James McAuliffe, and she had two children Scott Corrigan (September 11, 1976), and Caroline Corrigan (August 24, 1979).

            She held several teaching position between between 1970 and 1985 in both Maryland and New Hampshire.  Her final position in 1985 was with Concord High School, Concord, New Hampshire teaching courses in economics, law, American history, and a course she developed entitled “The American Woman,” to 10th, 11th, and 12th grades.

            Christa was also very involved in organizations and community activities.  She was a board member of:  New Hampshire Council of Social Studies; National Council of Social Studies; Concord Teachers Association; New Hampshire Education Association; and the National Education Association.  Besides these organizations she was: member, Junior Service League; teacher, Christian Doctrine Classes at St. Peter’s Church; host family for A Better Chance Program (ABC), for inner-city students; and fund-raiser for Concord Hospital and Concord YMCA.

Christa McAuliffe third from left

            McAuliffe was selected as the primary candidate for the NASA Teacher in Space Project on July 19, 1985.  She was scheduled to fly on Shuttle Mission 51-L, set for launch no earlier than January 22, 1986, from Kennedy Space Center, Florida.

            Mrs. McAuliffe was Teacher in Space Participant on STS 51-L which was launched from Kennedy Space Center, Florida, at 11:38:00 EST on January 28, 1986.  The crew on board the Orbiter Challenger included the pilot, Commander Mike J. Smith (USN), Commander Dick Scobee, three mission specialists, Dr. Ron E. McNair, Lieutenant Colonel El S. Onizuka (USAF), and Dr. Judy A. Resnik, as well as two civilian payload specialists, Mr. Greg B. Jarvis, and Mrs. S.C. McAuliffe.  The STS 51-L crew died on January 28, 1986 after Challenger exploded 1 min. 13 sec. after launch.

(src:  National Aeronautics and Space Administration / Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center)

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Bernard Corrigan
(1847 - 1914)

            Bernard Corrigan’s name means two things: Kansas City’s first citywide street railway, and one of the most spectacular houses in the Country Club district.

            ‘Barney’ Corrigan was born in Quebec, Canada August 15, 1847 to a successful Canadian farm family.  Twenty-one years later he and his brothers came to Kansas City to make their mark.  When he died here 46 years later, Corrigan had made his fortune, largely in railroads.

            Barney Corrigan and his older brother, Thomas, bought up their competition here.  Before 1900, they put together 15 separate rail lines, creating one single citywide streetcar system that really worked a first for Kansas City.

            Corrigan’s more recent renown stems from his remarkable house.  In 1912 Barney commissioned Kansas City’s flamboyant architect and fellow Canadian Louis Curtiss to design a splendid house (25 rooms) for his family.  Corrigan had 18 offspring - ten by his first wife and eight by his second.

            Curtiss designed a strikingly modern horizontal two-storey Art Nouveau house of concrete. He faced it with Carthage cut stone and set it on a large corner lot on the northwest corner of 55th and Ward Parkway.  It was estimated to cost upwards of $200,000.

            On January 6, 1914, only a few minutes before going south to inspect its progress, 66 year old Barney Corrigan was stricken and died.  So the family never occupied their stunning house, still much admired at 1200 West 55th Street.

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Robert Willoughby Corrigan
(1927 - 1993)

            Noted American writer and educator of theatre arts.  Professor of Dramatic Literature, New York University; Professor California Institute of the Arts.
            Robert Willoughby published several books on theatre arts, such as:  Classical Comedy, Greek and Roman; Classical tragedy, Greek and Roman;  The New Theatre of Europe;  Arthur Miller: A Collection of Critical Essays; Comedy, Meaning and Form.

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Lynda Dyann Corrigan
(1949 - )

            Banker.  Born Selmer, Tennesse, 24 November 1949, of A. Sammuel and Eunice (Burks) Davis.  Educated BBA, Mid Tennessee State University, 1978; MBA, University of Tennessee, 1979; JD, Nashville School of Law, 1984, CPA, Tennessee; bar: Tennessee, 1985.  sr. v.p.: First American Corporation, Nashville, 1980-; faculty: American Institute of Banking, Nashville, 1982-; member: National Panel Consumer Arbitrators, Nashville, 1985-87.  president: Buddies of Nashville, 1985; Treasurer: Mid-East Tennessee Arthritis Foundation, Nashville, 1982-85, Floyd Cramer Celebrity Golf Tournament, Nashville, 1981-84; board directors: Nashville Branch Arthritis Foundation, 1980-87; recipient Leadership award Mid-East Tennessee Arthritis Foundation, 1985, Gold award Jr. Chamber, 1891.  member ABA (mem. tax com. 1987-), Nashville Bar Association (mem.tax com. 1986, vice chmn. tax sect. 1989, chair tax sect. 1990-), Tennessee Taxpayers and Manufacturers Association (mem. tax com. 1986-), Tennessee Society CPA's.

(src:  Who's Who in the World 10thEd 1991-92)

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Timothy Patrick Penningon Blake Corrigan
(1957 - )

            Advertising executive.  Born Northfield, Minnesota, 13 March 1957, of Robert Willoghby and Mary Kathryn (Kolling) Corrigan.  Educated BA, Vassar College, 1979.  Account executive Leo Burnett Co., Chicago, 1979-81; sr. v.p. Ted Bates Worldwide, N.Y.C., 1982-87; exec. v.p., European bus. dir., BSB World-wide, Paris, 1987-90; multnat. mgn. dir. BBS Internat., Paris, 1990-; vis. prof. U. Paris, Sorbonne, 1987-88; gust lectr. RSCG Campus, Paris, 1989. Pres. Young Reps., Chicago, 1982; bd. dirs., Chicago International Film Festival, 1980-82, Chicago Museum Contemporary Art, 1981.  Member English Speaking Union, America Club of Paris, Vassar Club of N.Y. (bd. dirs. 1983-87).

(src:  Who's Who in the World 10th Ed 1991-92)

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E. Gerald Corrigan
(1941 - )

            American banker, economist, and Ph.D.  Born 1941, Waterbury, Connecticut; ed. Fairfield and Fordham Universities; Group Vice-Pres. (Man. and Planning) Fed. Reserve Bank of New York 1976-80, Pres. Jan. 1985-; Skpecial Asst. to Chair., Bd. of Gov. Fed. Reserve System 1979-80; Pres. Fed. Reserve Bank of Minneapolis 1981-84; Trustee, Macalester Coll., St. Paul, Minn. 11981-, Jt. Council Econ. Educ. 1881-, Fairfield Univ., Fairfield, Conn. 1985-; mem. Council on Foreign Relations 1986-. Trilateral Comm. 1986-; Pres. B.R.I. 1991-.

(src:  International Who's Who)

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Kevin Corrigan
(1969 - )

Kevin Corrigan, a rising actor in the American film industry, and was born on March 27, 1969 in the Bronx in New York City to Kenneth and Carmen Leon Corrigan. He is of Irish and Puerto Rican decent and has one brother named Kenny.  His mother Carmen is an artist, and two of her paintings were used in Kevin’s film Walking and Talking.  In the scene where Kevin and Catherine Keener are on a couch,  there is a painting on the wall behind them next to the front door, it was painted by Kevin’s mother, and is a picture of the apartment building Kevin grew up in!

Kevin attended St. Brendan’s Catholic School in the Bronx as a child.  Later, Kevin was trained at the Lee Strasberg Institute, a family-run place where students can go and learn all about acting and how to improve their skills. Kevin had little experience before his training at the institute.  In fact, he looked up the school in the phone book as opposed to, say, auditioning.  He actually started acting at the age of sixteen. He was nominated for an Independent Spirit Award for his performance in ‘Walking and Talking’, but lost to Benicio Del Toro.  When he was just 17, Kevin’s play entitled ‘The Boiler Room’ won the Best Play Award at the New York Young Playwright’s Festival, and was produced by the same group. At one point of his life, Kevin wanted to be a priest.

Kevin’s entertainment preferences include the music of John Lennon, Jimmy Page, KISS (well, Ace Frehley, at least), Planet of the Apes and the film Mean Streets.  Speaking of Ace Frehley, he lived in the same neighborhood as Kevin and when Kevin was growing up he used to get free posters, etc. from Ace.  And also, speaking of the Planet of the Apes, Kevin is not just a fan, he actually owns some kind of collector piggy bank.

Besides being an actor, Kevin is also an experienced guitarist and has played in several bands, most recently, a band called ‘Skooby Douche’ in New York City.  Some of his guitar riffs were even used for the film Bandwagon!

Kevin is one of the many who parodies his indie image in the Independent Film Channel’s ‘Christie’ commercials, featuring young Hallie Eisenburg as Christie, a ‘director’.  He has worked with several of his acting idols, including Steve Buscemi, James Woods, Christopher Walen and Linda Blair.  He’s quiet and laid-back, so he hung out with outspoken people to prepare for his role as Jerry Rubin in Abbie!  Jerry Rubin is the first real-life person Kevin has portrayed.  He met his idol, actress Linda Blair, after filming The Exorcist 3.

Before taking the TV role of Frankie Spivak on Pearl, he worked mostly in film.  He has appeared in Men Don’t Leave, Billy Bathgate, True Romance, and Kiss of Death.  In 1996 he played alongside Pearl co-star Carol Kane in the films The Pallbearer, and Tree’s Lounge.

PERFORMANCE CREDITS

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