I had occasion, before the snow gathered the winter before last, to take a casual, meditative walk through Princeton Cemetery in New Jersey. [Do I question your hobbies?]
By American standards, it is ancient, as one would expect for a resting place in a town that is old enough to be named for Prince William of Orange, was the site of an important battle of the American Revolution, and hosts one of the oldest universities in the United States. On display are the worn headstones of Americans both prominent and obscure.
While one may certainly find those well-known in American history, such as Aaron Burr, the American Puritan Jonathan Edwards, and President Grover Cleveland, there are also those whose names resonate quietly in our cultural memory; a name once heard in a forgotten context that seems to carry with it some positive regard, but with an elusive specificity. On my stroll that day there were a few such chiseled names of people who shaped portions of our world from what we know to how we voyage.
Their graves are not well-visited, the families scattered, and their gravestones of interest mostly to lichens.
One such name is that of William Francis Gibbs, who was blessed with two qualities. First, as his father had been a glorified con-man, Gibbs had learned the art of persuasion and, second, he was bloody-minded.
In the first instance, he was able to overcome his hasty and abrupt manner with people in order to find projects for himself, and in the second he remained focused on what had been his goal since childhood. It is a classic story of the American Century.
Gibbs was born in Philadelphia in 1886 to a family that, despite the outward trappings of wealth and foundation, was kept financially afloat through his father's gift for questionable investments and speculations, generally with other people's money. Still, Gibbs was intelligent and accomplished enough to be accepted into Harvard College and later Columbia where he studied law. Although he practiced law for a couple of years, his real calling was in hydro-design.
Usually, novices begin new ventures simply and modestly, gradually learning their trade and incrementally working towards larger and more complicated projects. Gibbs and his brother, being their father's sons, began their new business with bluster, braggadocio, and expansive promises.
The year before the United States' entry into World War I, the brothers managed to convince both J.P. Morgan and the U.S. Navy to support their plan to build 1000 foot ocean liners. While the war interrupted those plans, it did enable Gibbs to fall under the tutelage of Admiral David W. Taylor USN, the era's leading naval designer.
Over the next two decades, aided immeasurably by endearing himself to the Roosevelt family and, though marriage, the New York establishment, Gibbs improved his designs, displaying a knack for innovation and original thinking. When war once again entangled the United States in multiple obligations to national defense and allied supply, Gibbs designed the ships that would answer the various demands of America's involvement.
The landing craft used with such effectiveness on D-Day and at other amphibious landings were designed by Gibbs, as were the Liberty Ships that supplied the Allies in all three theaters of war. In particular, his design for a destroyer, utilizing the latest in engine technology, granted the United States victory in the Battle of the Atlantic and sea supremacy in the rest of the world.
Over two-thirds of the ships deployed by the United States in World War II were designed by Gibbs' company.
One might think all of that would be a rather satisfying achievement, but Gibbs had always held, since the days of his childhood when he would post pictures of ships in his bedroom, the desire to build the best ocean liner ever conceived. Now, with a solid reputation and substantial wherewithal, he began that quest.
Ocean travel, as the world gradually rebuilt and reformed itself when peace descended, was changing dramatically as the war had boosted the utility of air travel. While one could, at some expense, travel across the Atlantic quickly in a plane, trans-oceanic travel remained popular as one could expect some luxury and grace in the voyage.
It was just slow.
For the contemporary equivalent of $750 million, the S.S United States, the keel of which was laid in 1951, was the largest, fastest ship known at that time. It was designed to be virtually fire-proof, unsinkable, and capable of carrying nearly 2000 passengers. No wood was used in its construction, as even the deck furniture was made primarily from the new material: light-weight aluminum.
In her very first voyage, the United States broke the speed record for an eastbound crossing from New York to Southampton; a few days later she broke the record for the westbound crossing. Whereas most liners of the era required five days to travel, Gibbs' ship took only 3 and 1/2, boosting the number of trips possible and earning the company that owned her a lucrative, and loyal, passenger base.
Save for a few times when inconvenienced by ill-health, on the days when the United States pulled into harbor [as nimbly as a Chris Craft, according to one of her pilots], Gibbs could be found sitting dockside in the back of his chauffeur-driven Cadillac, watching his creation pull into port, like a fond lover returning from a European tour.
Gibbs would die at the age of 81 in 1967. His crowning achievement would continue to serve passengers into the 1990's, even into the age of larger, faster, less luxurious craft. Eventually, her service would come to an end. Today, the S.S. United States sits rotting away in the Philadelphia shipyard.
While various charities and other organizations have attempted to restore her, all of the plans have come to naught. The latest plan is to sink her to create an artificial reef. While a pity, it is apt. She was a product of her age and, without Gibbs to serve as her champion, it seems rather natural that her time will also come to an end.
I dusted off this old article for today’s post. What encouraged me to do so was the latest news about the United States and a chance visit to her current residence in Philadelphia.