1939 D.C. Police Motorcycle Stunts in Thomas McAvoy's LIFE Photos
In 1939, LIFE photographer Thomas McAvoy photographed members of Washington, D.C.'s Metropolitan Police Department doing something far removed from an ordinary traffic stop. These were staged demonstrations of balance, formation riding, and nerve: a sidecar trick, a wall of fire, a jump over a row of volunteers, and several moving human pyramids.
Thomas McAvoy Photographs the Motorcycle Squad
McAvoy caught the riders on a broad grass field with ramps, striped course markers, and a burning frame set up for the demonstration. These are clearly not photographs of routine patrol work. They show a planned motorcycle stunt exhibition in which the riders had room to build speed, hold close formations, and try things that would have been a terrible idea on a Washington street.
Motorcycles were already familiar police equipment by this point. A 1932 Harris & Ewing photograph in the Library of Congress shows a Metropolitan Police officer with a motorcycle several years before McAvoy's stunt series. By the end of the decade, departments were also experimenting with specialized equipment. Early police radio equipment shows one way motorcycles were being adapted for police duty during the same period, while New York had tried an armored sidecar experiment. The motorcycle squad was becoming more than a group of men writing speeding tickets.
Some of the skills in these photographs have an obvious connection to police riding. Low-speed balance, smooth throttle control, accurate steering, and the ability to hold a line beside another motorcycle all mattered on the street. Other parts of the show are harder to translate into fighting crime. I am still not sure when riding through a wall of fire became necessary police work, although that move seems to come up in nearly every police chase ever put on television.
Through the Wall of Fire
The two photographs above show the stunt from slightly different moments. The rider approaches the burning barrier seated normally, keeps the motorcycle straight, and drives through without much room to change his mind. The spectacle is obvious, but so is the control required. A sudden swerve on the grass would have been worse than whatever was waiting inside the flames.
The Jump and the Volunteers Underneath
Then there is the long-distance jump over a row of people lying on the ground. The ramp is not especially tall, and the motorcycle is not flying at circus height, but that probably did not make the view from underneath any better. The rider had to hit the narrow ramp square, keep the machine level, and land without drifting into the men on the grass. The bigger mystery is where the department found enough people willing to lie there in the first place.
Formation Riding and Moving Pyramids
The formation photographs make the riders' practical ability easier to appreciate. They are moving across the grass field, often only a few feet apart, while carrying passengers in positions that raise the center of gravity and leave almost no room for a sudden correction. Each driver had to maintain a steady speed while also trusting the riders beside him.
Public exhibitions like this gave a department a chance to turn discipline into spectacle. The camera could freeze a formation at the exact moment it looked most impossible, while the riders demonstrated that they could handle their machines with precision. The same years also saw manufacturers competing for police business. Harley-Davidson's attempt to win police contracts with the UMG shows how valuable those municipal fleets could be.
Standing Room Only
The final photographs remove even the pretense that these are ordinary riding positions. One man stands alone on a moving motorcycle, and then three men crowd onto another machine and rise together with their arms stretched out. No helmets, no protective gear, and not much between them and the ground except practice.
A Prewar Record of Police Motorcycling
McAvoy's photographs preserve a side of police motorcycling that equipment lists and patrol reports usually miss. The motorcycles were working vehicles, but they were also used for demonstrations that mixed serious control with a fair amount of showmanship. The riders could hold tight formations, carry several men on one machine, jump a row of volunteers, and ride through fire while a LIFE photographer waited for the right frame.
I still cannot explain how all of these stunts helped fight crime. They do, however, prove that Washington's motorcycle officers knew how to put on a show—and that somewhere in the department there was no shortage of volunteers with more confidence than common sense.