Sold For $18,740
*Includes Buyers Premium
A remarkable large section of deep red doped fabric, 4.75" x 2.5", recovered from the tail section of the German airship LZ 129 Hindenburg, which exploded and burned at Lakehurst, New Jersey, on May 6, 1937. The swatch was recovered by U.S. Marine Private Paul Vasquez, who was stationed at Lakehurst, New Jersey, and assigned to guard the crash site shortly after the airship exploded in 1937. While securing the wreckage, Vasquez collected many relics, including this section of red outer covering from the tail of the Hindenburg, the same area that bore the Nazi swastika insignia. The fabric, still faintly carrying traces of smoke and fuel odor after more than eight decades, exhibits edge fraying and burn marks consistent with exposure to the fiery disaster.
Accompanied by a detailed photocopied provenance packet of other materials originating from Private Paul Vasquez. While guarding the Lakehurst crash site, Vasquez sent a photo postcard of the Hindenburg to his family, writing that he was 'getting tired of guarding that burned dirigible.' The packet includes color copies of this postcard, copies of two original flown and recovered Hindenburg interior postcards inscribed in Vasquez's hand, 'Souvenir from Hindenburg Zeppelin, burned May 6, 1937 Pvt. Paul A. Vasquez,' as well as a photograph of Vasquez standing with another Marine at the wreck site during his guard duty.
The Hindenburg disaster occurred on May 6, 1937, when the German passenger airship LZ 129 Hindenburg, the pride of Nazi Germany's Zeppelin fleet, caught fire and was destroyed while attempting to land at the Naval Air Station Lakehurst in New Jersey. The massive hydrogen- filled airship, completing its first transatlantic flight of the season from Frankfurt, suddenly erupted into flames just moments before mooring, collapsing to the ground in less than a minute. Of the 97 people on board, 36 perished-13 passengers, 22 crew members, and one worker on the ground-while the horrifying scene was captured live by newsreel cameras and radio broadcaster Herbert Morrison's unforgettable words, 'Oh, the humanity!' The tragedy marked the end of the airship era, as public confidence in rigid airship travel vanished overnight, symbolizing both the dangers of early aviation and the technological ambitions of the interwar years.
