It was 1968. I was enrolled in flight school at Goodfellow AFB in Texas, preparing for my first combat tour in South East Asia. Goodfellow AFB is located in San Angelo, Tex. One weekend a group of us drove down to San Antonio to attend the Hemisfair. I was rather disappointed until I came across a sight I will never forget. There was a sign saying that Henri La Mothe would dive 35 feet into 12 inches of water. I turned the corner and sure enough there was this incredibly high and flimsy looking ladder next to what looked like a kiddie pool. The show started with a young girl in a bikini walking in the pool with a yard stick. She measured the water at several places and it was exactly 12 inches. I wondered what was the trick to make the water look so shallow. I didn’t see how it was possible that someone could really drive 40 fit into 12 inches of water and survive.
Then Henri La Mothe made his appearance. He was dressed in a white suit that resembled the long underwear we wore in the upper peninsula of Michigan. It looks more than a little out of place in the heat of San Antonio, Texas. Since La Mothe was born in 1904, I now realize that he was sixty years old at the time. He certainly looked old to me and I became really curious if this was really possible. I simply had to watch. Then the moment came. This rather frail looking man, wearing his long underwriter climbed that rickety latter. In some ways the most dangerous part of the stunt was climbing that ladder. He stood there on a tiny shelf, swaying in the wind, for several minutes and finally took his leap. To my shock and horror, he did a full-fledged belly flop into that kidde pool. I don’t know what I expected, but I do know it wasn’t a belly flop. I thought he was probably dead. But to my surprise, La Mothe jumped up and started celebrating his survival. After the show he was interviewed and someone asked him how he trained to do this. He described belly flopping off a kitchen chair onto a hardwood floor. My chest hurt for days just thinking about this.
I went on to serve three combat tours in Vietnam, and completely forgot about Henri La Mothe. I began to wonder if I had really even seen this and whether or not Henri La Mothe was for real. Then one day in 1974 I heard a news report that Henry La Mothe had celebrated his 70th birthday by diving 40 ft into 12 inches of water from the Flat Iron building in New York. Sure enough, a few days later there was a picture of Henri La Mothe, in his underwear, belly flopping 40 feet into 12 inches of water. I couldn’t help but smile and say…hey…I saw that guy. In case some of you are skeptical, attached is a link to a contemporary report about this and a picture of Henri La Mothe, in his long underwear, making that dive in 1974:
http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/wildest-stunts-new-york-city-history-gallery-1.1170709?pmSlide=5
The 1974 dive turned out to be his last. Henri La Mothe performed this stunt for 20 years from 1954 to 1974. He died in 1987, at age 83 and the only known injury was to his nose.
At a time when there is so much going wrong, I thought it would be fun to reflect upon the flight of the Mothe. It is a reminder that sometimes when we least expect it, we see something really wonderful. It is also a reminder that there are people out there who will pay any price for success. It is impossible to overestimate what a determined man can accomplish if they are willing to endure enough pain. I am relatively sure that every belly flop by Henri La Mothe was a painful experience. It sure looked that way to me in 1968. Somehow I don’t think the long underwear was that effective in softening the blow.
Tonight I watched a show on the Guinness world records and another man was trying for the world record by diving 37 feet into 12 feet of water. He seems to have inherited Henri’s long underwear suit. Assuming this was accurate, it would seem that the dive I saw in 1968 was only two inches lower than the current world record. I wonder if the current guy practices by belly flopping from a kitchen chair onto a hardwood floor.
TDM