As the Associated Press is a co-operative news-gathering agency and the Virginian-Pilot was a member, the story was available to the AP at Norfolk, but the AP was not yet interested in it.
One might have thought the news would especially interest the Dayton Journal; but Frank Tunison, the telegraph editor there (who also handled outgoing news for the Associated Press) was a man who took pride in not being easily fooled, and he paid no attention to the query from Norfolk.
Orville’s telegram to his father did not reach Dayton until 5:25 that evening. In transmission, errors had got into the message; fifty-nine seconds had become fifty-seven, and the sender’s name was spelled “Orevelle.”
Katharine Wright immediately sent a message to Octave Chanute that the “boys” had reported four successful flights. Bishop Wright asked his son Lorin to prepare a brief statement with a copy of the message and give it to the Associated Press. After he had finished his dinner, Lorin went to the office of the Journal and inquired if the Associated Press representative was there. He was referred to Frank Tunison. Whether Tunison had already received the query from Moore at Norfolk is not certain. But he seemed annoyed over being expected to accept such a tale.
Without looking up from his work, he yawned and said to Lorin:
“Fifty-seven seconds, hey? If it had been fifty-seven minutes then it might have been a news item.”
Nothing about the Wrights’ feat appeared in the Dayton Journal the next morning. But news considered important enough to be displayed on the first page of that same issue included items about a routine weekly meeting of the local united trades and labor council; a colored man named Charles Brown, who admitted pocketbook thefts; the pardoning of a robber from Joliet prison, in Illinois. On the page opposite the editorial page, the biggest, blackest headline was: “Stores Are Filled with Christmas Shoppers.”
Dayton afternoon papers on that December 18 did print accounts of the receipt of the telegram by Bishop Wright, as well as other “facts” about the flight. The Dayton Herald article appeared to be a rehash of the dispatch from Norfolk in the Cincinnati Enquirer. Over the article in the Dayton Daily News, on an inside page, alongside of so-called “country correspondence” from near-by towns, the heading was: “Dayton Boys Emulate Great Santos-Dumont.” Santos-Dumont had flown in an airship, and now the Wrights had flown in something or other. Therefore the Wrights must be imitators of Alberto Santos-Dumont! Lacking scientific knowledge, the editors failed to distinguish between a flying-machine, heavier-than-air, and an airship consisting of a gas-bag equipped with a propeller. Indeed, from then on, nearly all who had heard of the reported flights, editors included, were in one or the other of two groups of disbelievers: (1) those who refused to believe the flights had taken place at all; and (2) those who thought that even if they had been made they were not of great importance.
The Associated Press, that had declined to accept news of the flights at either Norfolk or Dayton the day before, now sent out for afternoon papers on December 18, a brief report, less than 350 words, from Norfolk. This appeared to be simply a condensation of the article in the Virginian-Pilot that morning and contained most of the same inaccuracies. Not more than two or three sentences in the AP dispatch were correct. “The machine flew for three miles,” the report said, “... and gracefully descended to the earth at the spot selected by the man in the navigator’s car as a suitable landing place.... Preparatory to its flight the machine was placed upon a platform ... on a high sandhill and when all was in readiness the fastenings to the machine were released and it started down an incline. The navigator, Wilbur Wright, then started a small gasoline engine which worked the propellers. When the end of the incline was reached the machine gradually arose until it obtained [sic] an altitude of 60 feet.... In the center is the navigator’s car and suspended just below the bottom plan [sic] is a small gasoline engine, which furnishes the motive power for the propelling and elevating wheels.
“There are two 6-blade propellers,” the dispatch said, “one arranged just below the frame so as to exert an upward force when in motion and the other extends horizontally from the rear to the center of the car furnishing forward impetus. Protruding from the center of the car is a huge fan-shaped rudder of canvas, stretched upon a frame of wood. This rudder is controlled by the navigator and may be moved to each side, raised or lowered.” Not all the Associated Press papers printed the brief dispatch in full; in fact, many did not use it at all.