How the Wright brothers did the impossible

Over 220 million people will fly on commercial airlines this summer. Flying has become routine, even a chore. People gripe about leg room more than they marvel at the technology.

But on December 17, 1903, outside Kitty Hawk, N.C., Orville Wright wasn't worried whether a passenger in front of him would try to recline the seat. He was lying on his stomach across the Wright Flyer I, about to make the first powered aircraft flight in history. Wilbur was running alongside him at the wingtip.

This was a familiar routine for the brothers at this point; they had been experimenting for years with gliders and other small crafts. Flying was a solo event, as the crafts were built for one. The brother left on the ground — they flipped coins to decide who it would be — could only watch and hope it didn't end in a funeral.

Historian David McCullough explores the brothers' relationship, their upbringing and their life after fame in his new book "The Wright Brothers." He digs into every detail, right down to their musical instrument of choice. (Orville played the violin, Wilbur the harmonica). He writes about Orville's painful shyness and Wilbur's fascination with birds.

McCullough joined MPR News' Kerri Miller to discuss how these two brothers achieved what more advanced teams could not.

"They had no running water, no electricity, no telephone, but a house full of books," McCullough said of the Wrights' childhood. "They were encouraged to read, to read deeply, to read above their heads in literature, poetry, philosophy, natural history. It was a truly full liberal arts education at home."

The Wrights' father encouraged their strong sense of curiosity, which they followed to flight. For the brothers, "it was both a physical adventure and intellectual adventure."

It's astounding, McCullough said, "that two men who cracked one of the most difficult and seemingly impossible technological questions of all time had a full liberal arts education. They never had any training in science or technology at all."

Even when they achieved greatness, they remained humble. After that first powered flight in 1903, they walked back to their shed, made themselves lunch, did the dishes and then walked the 4 miles to send a telegram to their father that they had succeeded. The press was nowhere in sight.

Several years later, when a local news editor was asked why they had not covered the Wright Brothers' world-changing achievement, he said simply, "I guess we were just plain stupid."

McCullough's book gives that first flight the coverage it never got at the time, and goes far beyond the myths that have sprung up around the Wrights. Using letters, records and the brothers' own notebooks, the historian paints in the details on two American legends.