Trifter

There are those who question the safety of flying in a giant metal tube spanned with wings at 30,000 feet above the ground. For those of you who suffer with those insecurities, this is not for you…

Growing up I always wanted to be Flight Attendant. From the youngest days I can recollect I would fly to and from Alaska. Those were the days with no inflight movies, fairly decent airplane food and the only “competitive” edge one airline had over the other was, no, not price, service! An unheard word in today’s industry. Due to airline regulation, all flights cost about the same to any given destination.

Thus, if you wanted to woo customer’s, you have to show them how much you cared about their business by being customer service oriented. Thus, the Flight Attendant’s on board would allow me to practice being a Flight Attendant. At the tender age of eight or nine I would assist the inflight personnel with such pleasant tasks as collecting the passenger garbage. But to me, it helped pass the time and also gave me a break from playing with the cards or reading the magazines (provided by the airline, of course). My career began in those early years and I was able to pick up where I left off upon graduation.

My life as a flight attendant in the early 1980’s was always eventful. It started shortly after deregulation hit the industry and flight personnel were only governed under what we termed FAR’s. Prior to that most airlines had union contracts that protected them from lengthy days and being away from home too much.

Having grown up in a very strong mining area with unions that owned most of the town, I didn’t feel unions served much purpose other than to protect the lazy and drive wages sky high. Of course if wages went sky high, prices obediently followed. Who wins there? And even though prices have never come back down – wages sure did and this was evident in the days of my flying career.

I started flying in 1984 with an airline who was currently in their first of many bankruptcies and whose union personnel were on strike. Yes, I was a scab! That alone kept each day adventurous. I braved the six weeks of training while living in a hotel. When graduation day finally arrived I wanted to leave the hotel to run a brief errand to the dry cleaners. It was a drizzly day as I ventured out and started my 15 minute trip to town. Within seconds the weather turned and I was driving in what seemed to me to be a hurricane. (Coming from the dry arid desert of the mountains, more than a couple inches of rain would qualify as hurricane weather to me.) Never having experienced such a phenomena, I continued to the dry cleaner. I picked up my clothes, raced to the car and continued back to the hotel. I had plenty of time before the ceremony started so I wasn’t too put off by this somewhat seemingly minor delay. The traffic was moving slower and slower as the water inched higher and higher. Soon the traffic stopped altogether. I couldn’t figure it out. There didn’t seem to be a wreck or anything significant that would prevent our moving forward. But as minutes turned into hours, I sat, watching water gather on the road. Soon it was rising high enough to seep into my car. This was really bizarre. I had no idea what to do. I was trapped and couldn’t move and all I could do was sit and watch my feet get engulfed with water while situated on the car brake pedal. The rain subsided some time later – but my car was not going anywhere. We didn’t have cell phones in those days and I was in a city far from home, knew no one and had no recourse but to start pushing my car to the nearest gas station. They helped me dry the car out as best as they could and sent me on my way. Yes, I missed graduation. This was certainly an omen of what was yet to come.

When I got back to the hotel, which was on airport property, many of us “graduates” were called upon to fly trips that night as so many regular flight attendants were unable to get to the airport, due to rain. We had observed many flights and were only suppose to be one of the crew members on the flight. We were not to be “the crew”. Thus, four of us “greenies” got on board a 727 flight bound for Tampa Bay, Florida. Having very little clue what to do, we fumbled through the galley, set up the drink cart and started our in flight service, after running the appropriate safety checks, boarding the plane and taking off. We left the food to warm in the oven for the second round of drinks. Things seem to be going okay when all of the sudden we heard the pilot’s voice over the sound system saying that we had begun our initial decent into Tampa Bay. Whoa! We were not even done with our dinner service. A mad scramble began to get the flight ready to land and to secure all the equipment. In flight personnel who were passengers on the flight jumped up to help us and with the aide of our pilot’s circling over the Tampa Bay area we finally were able to secure the cabin, strap into our jump seats and prepare for landing. We realized then how much we needed to learn before crewing a plane again.

But as time went on, we melded into the system well. It was grueling working the very long hours required, due to shortages of flight crews. FAR’s are bare bones rules that simply keep you from collapsing with exhaustion. That was all the protection we had from a company who was struggling to recover from the mad “fare wars” brought on by deregulation. For a mere $900 per month – we worked most everyday 12-14 hours a day. Unions weren’t sounding too bad at this point in time.

Due to drastic infrastructure change in the airline industry – we rarely were on time, only most of the time went where we were originally scheduled, and lucky if we got home the same day our work schedule stated. We were flying out dated equipment, which frequently had “mechanical” delays to secure the flight for safety. I never did quite understand why people were so upset that we wouldn’t take off until we ascertained the flight worthiness of the aircraft… Hmm… I was as inconvenienced as anyone and not getting paid any more for the delay – why take it out on me. I wanted to get home as much as they wanted to get to their destination. Tough to figure out the mentality of people sometimes.

One of the most vivid examples came on a “turn” we were scheduled to fly from Houston to Miami. A turn simply means you go out and back the same day. We were always advised to carry extra clothes and supplies, “just in case”. But this day I didn’t heed that wise counsel and left home with only my flight manual, apron and in flight shoes.

We boarded the plane as usual and traveled to Miami on a DC-10 with roughly 250 passengers on board. Landing in Miami was uneventful and thus we rounded up the Houston bound crowd and took off on our one hour and 30 minute flight over the Gulf. Shortly after take off, while safely secured in my jumpseat, the plane started shaking and vibrating immensely. The four pink bell symbol went off indicating an emergency and my aft facing jumpseat became the target of all eyes on board. I just shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. I truly did not know what was happening. It was frightening as people’s eyes were watery and fear was evident on their faces. I was no source of comfort or security as I was clueless as to the events taking place. Soon my jumpseat phone beeped and I answered. No need to fear – our starboard engine had just taken in a seagull and were going to be circling the Gulf to dump fuel and return to Miami.

Appropriate announcements were made to calm the passengers and we made preparations for an emergency landing back in Miami. All seemed to go well until we landed in Miami only to find that another DC-10 had the same problem we did, so roughly 500 passengers were now stranded in Miami and the Pam Am hub had an airline strike in progress.

As the priority is to get passengers out first, all rebookings were prioritized with their needs in mind. We got to stay with the plane until a new engine could be shipped from LAX to MIA. What ensued was utter chaos. They finally situated us in a hotel, realizing this wasn’t going to be a “turn” any longer. Airline rules state that while on duty you must remain in uniform and technically we were still “on duty”. Besides most of us did not bring a change of clothing anyway. We were not to be seen out and about in uniform, so we were confined to our room. Thus, some with money went and bought clothing to wait out the storm, until our engine arrived. Most think it would be grand to be stranded in Miami! I guess it would have been except for those pesky rules that confined us to our rooms.

Three long days later, we were finally ready to leave. Most of our passengers had left days ago so the plane wasn’t too full. To lighten the mood of all involved, the crew opted to throw caution to the wind and invest in some t-shirts to wear on board – an absolutely forbidden policy. Flight crews must be in FULL uniform at all times when the flight is in route. We just couldn’t resist the colorful t-shirts splattered with bird dung stating “DAMN SEAGULLS”. It was too appropriate and certainly lifted the spirits of all.

Even though the flight didn’t land in Houston until 2 am, we were all relieved to arrive at our destination, safe and sound. The passengers deplaned and as we were gathering our belongings to go home, the Captain announced that we would be taking another DC-10 to Acapulco as soon as we got off the plane. That plane had experienced some mechanical issues and in the delay the flight crew became “illegal” to fly as they had been on duty too long. Since we had three days to bask in the sun of Miami, we were legal and could thus escort this plane full of inebriated (they comp’ed liquor to pacify the angry crowd) to the pacific coast of Acapulco at 3 am.

Tired, angry and discouraged, we did our best to keep this crowd under control and maintain a positive outlook. We flew down, picked up the waiting people in Mexico and departed for Houston. About 30 minutes out of Acapulco we lost one of the engines on this plane mid-air. But Houston was closer than turning back, so at least we were going home. Once again we prepared our worn down passengers for an emergency landing and safely landed at Houston’s Intercontinental airport at 5:30 am. We breathed a sigh of relief and planned to avoid the Captain at all costs. Our efforts were in vain as we sat on the runway, waiting for Custom’s to open at 7:00 am. Nice to be home – but would have been better to be in my own bed resting peacefully instead of waiting for Custom’s to allow us entrance into the United States.

That trip did end. We did get to rest. I don’t remember how long, but I am sure it wasn’t long enough!

Years later were doing a San Antonio turn. Very easy trip. Short, full loads and not a lot of time to think about much. We left Houston without incident. While turning the plane back to Houston, the passengers outside waiting to board were watching television screens flashing news casts about an L-10-11 that had just crashed in Dallas, killing most everyone on board. Initial speculation blamed wind shear. There was a decent size storm in Dallas that was now on its way to Houston – our destination!

It need not be said that most of the passengers boarding the flight were a bit anxious and feeling uncomfortable about flying into the eye of the storm that had just downed an L10-11 with most on board perishing. But the Captain reassured of our safety and we took off and began our short 30 minute flight to IAH.

Upon our initial decent we felt the plane go into a rocking pattern, not typical for landing. Nerves were fragile and the tension high. We knew we were crossing paths with a deadly storm. As most sat frozen in their seat the aircraft lost power and was now swaying madly. Flight Attendants are to remain calm in an effort to maintain control. Passengers started screaming and the Flight Attendant next to me joined in with vigor. My thoughts focused on the ridiculous high heels we were required to wear and the pantyhose that would burn into my legs if a slide evacuation become necessary. I was sitting right next to the door so I was certain I had an escape route readily available. Off went the shoes and the pantyhose… I was getting prepared. Just about the time I had gathered my thoughts and prepared for the worst, the pilot eased the plane down to the ground and reversed the engines. We slowly taxied to the gate and quietly deplaned passengers. We were safe.

After a few months of uneventful flying we were taking a flight to Detroit on a DC-9. The trip was quiet and most of the passengers were comfortably resting while we descended. A faint smell of smoke alerted the crew. About the time passengers had detected the smoke a rush of thick brown smoke filled the cabin. Shortly thereafter, we touched down, taxied to the gate and patiently waited for the smoke to dissipate. It did and after deplaning the passengers our pilots informed of that one of the engines had caught fire. It never fully ignited and was quickly denied oxygen, in essence putting it out before it really started!

After that, I never really had any more incidents as a crew member. Things were settling down and procedures put in place to maintain better care of the planes. Even though fares were low, airlines were learning how to operate profitably in a lean market. Our schedules were calming down and we were starting to realize the benefits of working for an airline. Time off and flight benefits make for a unique and comfortable job. Despite the calm, I still encountered a few mishaps as I flew on my own time.

I was returning from a visit with my family in Wyoming. I left the Rock Springs, Wyoming airport on a Convair, prop plane, as a passenger, but dressed in uniform because I had a flight as soon as I got back to Houston. Our first leg of the journey was from Rock Springs to Denver. The take off was uneventful and I was settling in as we passed through 10,000 feet and the “No Smoking” sign was turned off. I had a window seat over the wing and was casually looking out the window when I noticed that the prop quit turning. Several other passengers noticed the same thing and were looking to me to provide an answer. Obviously I was no help, I was not a crew member, but simply a passenger. I confirmed that I did not think that it was normal… big help I was!

Shortly after the prop quitting turning the captain informed us that we would be returning to Rock Springs. We safely landed, made a few changes and took off again, barely running late! It is amazing to me how many things can go wrong and still not truly cause a problem. That helped me feel safer as I continued flying.

Since Wyoming was considered home, I flew there often. Planes were small and winds high on the plateau where the airport was situated. One another trip from Rock Springs to Denver we boarded the plane and were cleared for take off when the wind grabbed the plane and drove us off runaway. I am not sure what really happened because the pilot came on the intercom and said there was a paperwork error we needed to go back to the terminal and fix. Hmmm…..

Although much of this sounds a bit scary, I think of how many “close calls” I have had driving and I still feel much safer in an aircraft!

Toward the end of my flight attendant career I was leaving Houston for a trip and when it was complete I planned on going straight to Wyoming for Christmas. Prior to my scheduled work flight I needed to put my 15 year old dog on the plane and send her to Wyoming so she would be there when I finished my trip. She did not do well flying so I gave her a mild sedative. I was standing in line, in uniform, with the other passenger checking baggage. While I was waiting I was holding her in my arms. She was passively resting in my arms when all of the sudden I felt something warm on my stomach. I looked down to realize that she had urinated all over my uniform. I felt very uncomfortable and the horrified stares of those waiting in line with me made me want to crawl in her kennel and hide! I continued to wait and put her on the plane and quickly took my luggage and went to the closest restroom where I was grateful I had an extra uniform to change in to. I found a plastic bag to store my soiled uniform in my luggage and was even more appreciative of the fact that none of the passengers waiting in line with me were on my flight!

Flying has truly proven to be an adventure for me, in more ways than I anticipated when I yearned to fly the friendly skies!