(This story was originally written and recorded for Retrocast #27 – Podcast #222, which was released on July 24, 2024.)
Did you know that smoking is good for your digestion? Today, we know that this is absolutely false, but beginning back in 1936, RJ Reynolds ran an advertising campaign for its Camel cigarettes that claimed that they supposedly aided digestion by increasing alkalinity. For the next few years, they would get the endorsements of athletes, movie stars, and ordinary people to back up their claims.
By using catchphrases such as “For your digestion’s sake, smoke Camels,” “They are gentle on your throat,” and “They never get on your nerves,” these ads suggested that Camel cigarettes were far better for your health than the other competing brands.
Of course, this all proved to be a bunch of hooey, and in 1951, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) issued a cease-and-desist order to R.J. Reynolds that prohibited them from making any claims that their cigarettes aided “digestion in any respect.”
But I just want to focus on one of the ads that they ran. It was published on page 3 of the March 29, 1937, edition of the Herald Press. This particular ad focused on the daring feats of Paramount newsreel cameraman Al Mingalone.
The text reads, “Al Mingalone never knows where the next assignment will take him. Whenever news is breaking, he’s there grinding out film, heedless of danger.
‘Sure I get in many a tight spot,’ says Al. ‘But I count on my healthy nerves and good digestion to see me through. I smoke a lot – Camels every time! They don’t jangle my nerves, and that saying ‘for digestion’s sake – smoke Camels’ is made-to-order for me. Camels give me a grand feeling of well-being.’
“Yes, with fine-tasting Camels digestion gets off to a smooth start. The digestive fluids speed up – alkalinity increases – you feel at ease. As steady smokers say: ‘Camels set you right!’”
What Al could never have imagined at that time was that not only would he be filming the news, but he would be the news!
On September 28 of that same year, Al had been sent to the Old Orchard Beach Country Club in Old Orchard Beach, Maine on an assignment to do some “house-hopping with weather ballons.”
The idea was very simple, Al would be strapped into a harness and then lifted high into the air by some oversized hydrogen-filled balloons. Armed with his Bell & Howell Eyemo camera, was safely strapped in and then was gradually lifted by the buoyancy of the balloons.
Everything went well and Al soared to about 25 feet (7.62 m) off the ground. Once he had shot his footage, he safely returned to the ground to swap out his film for a new reel.
But Al wished to go higher so that he could get a better view. So, fellow cameraman Phil Coolidge, the guy who dreamed up this hair-brained scheme, decided to add five more balloons to Al’s harness.
That did the trick. Al soared higher and higher until the tie rope pulled taut.
And then… It snapped!
Al and a cluster of 32 weather balloons then took off skyward.
Both Coolidge and Thomas Bowman, a locker boy at the country club gave chase. Bowman got within arm’s length of the rope’s end when he suddenly tripped and fell. He quickly jumped back up and continued his pursuit. He came close to grabbing it again, but was unsuccessful.
By this point, Al and the balloons began to rapidly gain altitude. But Catholic priest Reverend James J. Mullen had come prepared. He grabbed a shotgun from his car and fired two shots at the balloons. It’s unclear if he hit any of the bags, but Al continued higher and higher.
It wasn’t long before he appeared as just a dot in the sky and the wind began to carry him away. Estimates placed Al’s elevation as high as 1000 feet (304.8 m).
Al described what happened:
“I’d entered the lower bank of a quick rising fog, and couldn’t see a thing. I tried to pull myself up the ten feet to the ballon lines. Part way, cramps grabbed me and I stopped. A sudden squall struck. I was jerked backward and dropped to the end of my harness. Having lost twelve pounds (5.4 kg) of ballast, I shot skyward again. My clothes were wet. The air was cold and raw. I must have been about 700 feet off the ground. After nearly an hour had gone by, I saw a car. I heard a ping. Then another. There was a hissing sound. I began to descend.”
Al would later learn that the priest and some other men had hopped in a car and given chase. They finally caught up with him and the priest fired two shots, which punctured three of the balloons. Al safely came to the ground on a farm in North Kennebunkport, about thirteen miles (20.9 km) from where he had begun his flight.
Amazingly, his Bell & Howell camera was found in the mud, the film developed, and Al was awarded the “Best Domestic Newsreel Scene of the Year” by the National Headliners Club. Bell & Howell ran a full-page ad for its latest Eyemo camera in the January 1938 publication of American Cinematographer in which they described Al’s ordeal. To the left of a large image of Al tethered to those balloons, the text begins, “Eyemo unharmed by 800-foot fall.” It then goes on to describe his ordeal and why one should purchase one of their cameras.
As one would expect, R.J. Reynolds ran an ad for Camel cigarettes in the October 22, 1937, issue of Life Magazine that made note of Al’s accomplishment.
“Al Mingalone, crack newsreel cameraman, says: ‘When news breaks I have to be on the spot to film it. Many a time – for days in a row – I’ve been kept on the run. When I’m tired, I get a ‘lift’ with a Camel. Right around the clock – it’s Camels for me. They’re in a class by themselves for mildness.”
Al would eventually move on to television work, but nothing could ever top his death-defying balloon flight. He passed away on January 9, 1991, at the age of 86.
