Local admiration: Capt. David Harris made history as first Black commercial pilot

The four gold strips of fabric on his sleeves swished back and forth, constantly stopping and exploding back into motion as he fielded hellos, handshakes, hugs and other greetings from colleagues who looked up to him and the change he brought forward.

As Capt. David E. Harris strode through an airport, so did cheer, joy and hope.

Harris, born Dec. 22, 1934 in Columbus, brought Midwestern hospitality into every airport interaction.

“When I was a kid, I don't think I had any real awareness of the respect, admiration and love that people in the industry had for him,” Harris’ daughter, Leslie Germaine, said.

As the first Black commercial airline pilot, Harris inspired an entire generation of Black pilots and gave hope to Black workers in the airport, reminding everyone that their station was wherever they wanted it to be — the sky was literally the limit.

By the time he was hired to fly for American Airlines in 1964, Harris already knew how it felt to stand out due to the color of his skin.

According to the book, "Segregated Skies: David Harris’s Trailblazing Journey to Rise Above Racial Barriers," he entered his U.S. Air Force flight school classroom in 1958 in Florida and found a sea of only white faces.

Though Harris said his trail was often visited by bigotry and pain, he flew on with determination, landing Air Force assignments in Kansas, California and Massachusetts.

The Air Force sent Harris all around the U.S., but discrimination hung thick in the air no matter where he went. "Segregated Skies" tells the story of how Harris was once forced to eat in the kitchen of a diner while his white colleagues, neither of whom stood up for him, shared a booth.

In 1963, shortly after the birth of his daughter, Harris made the switch to commercial flying. After being rejected and ignored by airline after airline, Harris secured an interview with American Airlines, where he immediately told the interviewer that he was a man of color, despite his lighter complexion.

He was told that at American Airlines, all that mattered was flying ability. On Nov. 30, 1964, Harris received a telegram from American Airlines saying that he was a commercial airline pilot and must report to Dallas, Texas. He then retired from the Air Force and made history.

From hatred to healing

Germaine said Harris was humble and grateful to the Tuskegee Airmen and Marlon Green, who won a discrimination lawsuit against Continental Airlines in 1963 and was hired in 1964, but did not begin flying with the airline until 1965.

Before Harris could walk through an airport and receive reverence from other Black aerospace professionals, he walked through airports hearing bigoted murmurs and receiving shocked stares.

But each step that Harris took grew his selflessness, allowing him to help someone else rise to the same level he had.

“When the Organization of Black Aerospace Professionals (OBAP) started in September 1976, Dave wasn't looking for glory,” said Capt. Bill Norwood, a former pilot for United Airlines.

“He just wanted to be helpful, a quality a lot of pilots don't have," Norwood said. "He had such constructive suggestions and criticism as we went forward.”

OBAP, then known as the Organization of Black Airline Pilots, was founded in 1976 and now has over 5,000 members. Norwood credits Harris’ suggestions as the catalyst for the organization's youth outreach.

“He said what we should do as an organization is to reach out and give back and be more interested in getting more people involved, being able to reach out to youngsters at schools to show them that is possible,” Norwood said.

To give back, Harris worked with and guided up-and-coming pilots of color, ensuring their hiring was an absolute lock before recommending them.

“We were always careful if an African American pilot was not qualified to apply to the airline, we would tell them, ‘You don't have the ratings,’” Norwood said.

“At one time, Dave had something like 48 names of people interested in becoming airline pilots."

History in the making

Harris’ contribution to the Civil Rights Movement went beyond giving back. In 1971, he flew the body of Whitney M. Young Jr., head of the National Urban League, from New York to his home in Kentucky.

On board were Young's wife, Margaret — who asked Harris to embark on the flight — former NAACP leader Roy Wilkins and the Rev. Jesse Jackson. Linda Dandridge, news anchor and Captain Harris’ wife at the time, joked that if he screwed up that flight, he would bring down the entire Civil Rights Movement.

According to Germaine, Harris was also in the sky on April 4, 1968, when Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, enduring racist comments from his white copilot as they flew over a burning Chicago. He never flew with that copilot again, but Germaine said he did not let experiences like that change his attitude toward flying and maintained an infectious, palpable energy.

“Some people just carry themselves with so much poise and grace that they really capture your attention,” said Capt. Dennis James, a retired pilot for American Airlines. “Dave was just like that. He had this calm, sharp, inquisitive soul.”

Meticulous in all aspects of life

“Not in the formal sense of the word, but my dad was a teacher,” Germaine said. “I am very handy with tools, for example. One of the things that we did in the house I grew up in was we built an in-ground swimming pool.”

And this was no rinky-dink setup. Germaine said she and her father cleared over a dozen trees, borrowed a Bobcat to dig a hole and then installed a concrete-rimmed pool with a 6.5-foot deep end, diving board and underwater lights in just a matter of weeks.

“That is what I learned from my dad: being diligent and thorough,” she said.

Harris being a meticulous man helped his aviation greatness.

“When you're doing your preflight check, you can't miss anything,” Germaine said. “Finishing the job completely doesn’t mean the job is done when you finished screwing in the last screw; it means your tools are put away and your area is swept clean with everything back where it belongs so you can find it the next time.”

A legacy of advancement

Before becoming renowned in his field, Harris was relatively ignored by his classmates on another, greener field playing for his hometown college, the Ohio State University.

“He loved telling stories about how people were so supportive of the Ohio State football program that on game day, sometimes, people would walk through the soccer field during their practices and didn't realize that they were walking through soccer practice because nobody really cared about soccer,” Germaine said.

Although ignored on the soccer field, Harris had all eyes on him as he walked into a plane alongside Herman “Sam” Samuels and Jim Greene, making history with the first all-Black flight crew, later nicknamed “Soul Patrol.”

“Normally, Dave and Herman and (Jim) would have walked out of operations across the ramp and just got onto the jet,” James said.

Following pilot norms, not many passengers would notice an all-Black crew, but Harris made sure everyone knew.

In a conversation between Greene and Harris, a story was told that Greene, the flight engineer, was walking around the airplane, but Harris stopped him, suggesting that they "bend a few heads." The three Black aerospace professionals strode straight down the corridor in front of their shocked passengers.

“He wanted to make sure people could see them, so that was sort of a soft statement,” James said. “That was the nature of his personality.”

Harris died on March 8, 2024. Nearly one year later, Germaine reflected on the fruits of his toil. There was no need to look further than her father's memorial service, which was Sept. 27, 2024, when James spoke to Germaine and her sister, Camian Harris-Foley.

“I looked out and there were just all these pilots in uniform standing in the back. It just took my breath away to see the men and women, all these Black faces," Germaine said.

"He called us up to the podium and (James) said, ‘This is your father's legacy.’”

When Harris left the Air Force, there were zero Black commercial airline pilots. In 2020, there were more than 5,000, according to data from the Women in Aviation Advisory Board. Still, that accounts for only about 3.4% of U.S. pilots.

“There is a long way to go and this is 60 years on from when my dad started,” Germaine said. “There is a lot of work to do.”

Noah Fishman is a previous intern for The Columbus Dispatch and a current journalism student at Denison University. He can be reached at Fishma_n1@denison.edu.