"He Loved to Fly" July 15, 2011 I am planning to take a trip on an airplane. It will not be my first time flying but as near as I can figure it will be the first time in 23 years. I flew a lot in the 1960s and '70s but less so in the 1980s stopping altogether in 1988. I didn't stop flying because of my acrophobia; the height while sitting in an aircraft isn't like looking over a precipice. I can actually enjoy the view from up there. It is the thot of being contained in a tube of screaming, terrified people as we plummet, perhaps for minutes to our imminent death that bothers me. Yes, I know the statistics - more likely to be killed on the drive to the airport than on the plane - but I've been in car wrecks and still here - how many people walk away from each plane that goes down? Oh, the title of this journal entry? Not my sentiment. It refers to my namesake Uncle Bob, the WWII hero pilot who flew B-17 bombers in Europe and jumped out of one in a parachute as it was shot down. His wife told me he loved to fly. I never actually met him; he died in a plane crash in 1952. But, back to my flying experience. It was 1964 when I first flew on an airplane. The U.S. Air Force was sending me to Turkey - trains, like the one they sent me on from St. Louis to San Antonio was not an option. My Boeing 707 was to leave Chicago O'Hare Field for Europe and I had to get there from Lambert Field in St. Louis, which was not an international airport at the time. So, my first flight was on a DC-3, a beautiful streamlined propeller driven aircraft from the Art Deco era. It was also in a DC-3 (C-47) that Uncle Bob died a dozen years earlier. As first experiences go, this one was nice. It was July 4th weekend, I was young and conditioned to do as I was told, so I got on this plane along with everyone else and strapped myself into the seat. (Seat belts were not yet standard on cars). I was in my dress blues so I could not show fear. The engines on the wings cranked to a loud start and a puff of white smoke. The plane started rolling forward as we taxied to the runway where the engines revved higher, we gained speed and shortly the pavement started dropping away. Before long I was looking down on the familiar buildings and roadways of my home town as we climbed up into the clouds. It was noisy with little bumps as we hit occasional wind turbulence and slow enuf that you knew you were flying. Then I transferred to the big jet with lots more people, a Boeing 707. It was a railroad car with wings. You could feel the weight of the thing as we taxied, then the increased whine of the engines as we were pushed back into our seats from the thrust. At high altitude the ride was mostly smooth, tho the occasional bump was like a car hitting a pothole. The engines were just a background whirr, like the wind we were going thru at 300 miles per hour. It was an overnight trip and once in the air the "No Smoking" sign went off and we all lit up. (Pity those who didn't smoke - they were stuck with the foul air). Our first landing on the way to Istanbul was at Frankfurt Germany, where the plane dropped from over some mountains and made a somewhat hard landing. So, this was the first of many commercial flights I would be making while in the Air Force. (I never flew on a military jet. Ironically, at the time the Navy had more planes than the Air Force. I saw more typewriters and radio receivers than aircraft) But I did fly a lot and never really gave it much thot as it was part of the culture. It was the golden age of flying, with pretty stewardesses in nice form-fitting business suits who were artificially friendly to everyone. There were no hassles to getting on to a plane, no searches. It was an innocent time. It is hard to believe now that I once took two pistols on a jetliner in a briefcase. I collected guns and my prize was a .44 Magnum Ruger revolver with another .22 caliber revolver in the case. No one searched it or X-rayed it. Just walk onto the plane with enuf fire power to remove the cockpit if I had wanted to. During the '70s I also flew a lot, from a couple of trips to Centro America and twice to Europe and India. Again, flying was enjoyable at the time. The airlines treated passengers nicely, (as if we were paying them to fly on their planes). They gave us meals on almost all flights and once when a plane broke down in Paris the airline put us up for the night in their hotel downtown. In the 1980s I only flew a couple of times. When Brenda, Rosalyn and I went to Merida Mexico for our Yucatan vacation and that last flight I took from Brookhaven Mississippi in 1988 that routed me to Dallas-Ft. Worth then back to Atlanta and on to Miami. We flew thru a thunderstorm coming into Atlanta, but it was not too harrowing, tho I thanked the pilot for getting us down on exiting the plane. I don't know why I stopped flying - perhaps just no need to or realizing the odds of an air mishap had increased with all my previous flight time. But I have done ground transportation ever since. And since the late '80s air travel has become less appealing anyhow. This goes beyond seeing the fiery demise of the Concorde SST in Paris with all people on board. Or the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorism aboard four airliners that were crashed. People complacently sitting in their offices at work were also a part of that horror. I am also concerned about the decline in the industry that I hear about on the news. When I got angry because Greyhound stranded me for five hours in the Mobile, Alabama bus barn in the middle of nowhere, I comforted myself with the fact that I was not stuck in an airplane on the side of a runway for that period of time (and more). At least in the bus shed I could walk around and use the toilet. When being herded onto a bus or train it is less demeaning than being herded onto an airplane and I don't have to show up hours earlier than departure for the indignities. Also, airlines quit treating you like someone special and started treating you like a mark, to rip off piece by piece with add-on fees for luggage and meals if available at all. Flying just isn't the fun adventure it once was - and has become a utilitarian ordeal to get from one place to another quickly. Sometimes it isn't the destination so much as the journey so I have opted to meander around the country on a train or bus for these many years. But, I'll soon be back in the air as a novice again. If I make it back, I may write some more on this newest adventure.
He Loved to Fly Continued August 30, 2011 By Shale Today was the successful ending of my first airplane flight in 23 years. It started out sunny on Miami Beach but by the time I got to Miami International Airport out west there were huge black thunderheads had formed over the airport. But planes were still taking off. I had my boarding pass in hand and went to the dreaded TSA search routine, which turned out to be no more bothersome than going onto a cruise ship or into a government building – except I had to take off my shoes and run them thru the X-ray. My first plane was a Delta Airlines Airbus A320 It seats 148 ppl, but was fairly empty today and I had all three seats to myself. Oh I asked the flight attendant to get my historic seated-on-an-airplane pic. She asked if this was my first flight and I told her the first one in 23 years. She gave me a Delta pin (probably given to kids on their first flight) I already described my first Jet Airliner experience on taking off, with the increase whine of the engines, being pushed gently back into my seat from the thrust and watching the ground fall below us. Soon I was looking down on MIA falling behind us. And to the side of us, looking toward Miami Beach. Soon we were passing thru the clouds over Miami and cruising at 500 MPH, the engines giving a slight whirring and an occasional bump to remind us air has substance at that speed.
It is always fun to watch scenery pass by while traveling, even at 30K feet up. I saw some interesting fields in the farmlands of the South that looked like a mosaic. I think the round fields are to accommodate an irrigation system, not just because it looks nice from the air. While this first part of my journey was fun on the roomy big jet, at Memphis I had to transfer to a regional jet for the last hour flight to St. Louis. This plane was packed and really kind of claustrophobic. Glad it was only for an hour in the air. So, that is my experience with getting back into the air after almost a quarter century. Now that I look back on the many flights I have taken in the past IDK why I waited so long to get into the air again. It was fun and I may actually end up like my Uncle Bob the pilot – “He Loved to Fly.” Oh, BTW. Last night at around 11 p.m. I was extremely tired so I went to bed. Normally my bedtime is midnight but I knew I was in a diff time zone. What surprised me was when I woke up this morning at 4 a.m. Who’da known that ‘jet lag’ would hit you when traveling across just one time zone in a day?
He Loved to Fly Continued September 14, 2011 Today, just as it was when leaving Miami on August 30th, it is raining. We arrived at Lambert Field and I saw the extent of the damage from the tornado that hit the terminal in April this year with the still boarded up windows. Inside the terminal I proceeded to my concourse and went thru the screening like a pro, removing my shoes and all metal from my pockets and sending it thru X-ray. The TSA agents were randomly selecting passengers from the boarding line to give a pat down search. They got a man in front of me and a woman behind. Just my luck, giving free massages and I miss out. My plane this morning is a McDonnell Douglas MD-88. I selected window seats on all my flights so I can enjoy the rare sight of seeing the earth from a different perspective. The trip was thru blue skies with white cottony clouds and we arrive on time at Atlanta, the hub of Delta Airlines. This was a transfer stop in my last flight in 1988, when I came here thru thunderstorms that were pushing the plane around and the wings were flapping. I also remember this terminal. It is the one where I had to walk a mile from one concourse to another. This time I took the tram to my departure concourse.
My plane for the remainder of the journey is a Boeing 737 which seats 160. This plane has a little video monitor in the back of the seats where safety instructions are given and access to flight information (Alt, Speed, Distances & Times) with maps showing where the plane is at. We cruised at about 37,000 feet with a speed of 565 MPH and the outside air temperature was -59 degrees F. Another successful takeoff from Atlanta on a beautiful sunny day.
While tracking on the monitor, I noticed we were going over a little bit of the Gulf of Mexico from North Florida to West Central Florida. We were only in the air for about an hour and a half and soon were descending into Miami over the Everglades and then very quickly over suburbs. As we approached MIA on this clear day you could see that rush hour was clogging the expressway. Ironically, the bus ride from the airport to my home in Miami Beach took almost as much time as the flight from Atlanta to Miami. So, I have successfully flown for the first time in 23 years and it was actually no big deal. Still not too comfortable in planes but I never was. I will likely be flying again - can't get over how fast you can cover great distances by air - but still will also likely be taking trains again for the journey itself. However, Europe and Hawaii are now more likely possibilities for a future venture.
Nice story, Rob, and such a lot of different planes. I had an experience flying into Las Vegas once. There is frequently (I understand) a cross-wind on that air field and the day we flew in, it was a doozie. The approach is a steep descent and right bank, quickly leveling off and lining up with the runway. When we did the bank and turn, we straigtened out at about 40-50 feet off the ground and the cross-wind hit us. The right wing dipped and came within about a foot of the ground. Everyone on the right side of the plane let out a collective gasp. Had I been sitting on that side, I'm sure I would have had to change my pants. Did I mention that I have an acute fear of heights? I simultaneously love and hate to fly. I'm naturally adventurous, but the fear of high places gives me the serious willies.
Yeah, I have acrophobia too. When I went up the steps on the side of the pyramid in Uxmal, never realized until I turned around and looked out how high and insecure I was. Had to climb down backwards like a ladder - even threw my flipflops down because my feet were sweating so much they were slippery. (I never attempted to go to the top of El Capitan in Chichen Itza) However, looking down while sitting in a plane isn't so bothersome, until it banks a little too steep or the ground comes up too fast. Strangely, I did OK parasailing over water - but again I was sitting in a harnesss and hanging onto a bar. IDK if I am ready yet for skydiving.
The Rude Flight Attendant (AKA The Bitch) Well, took a brief trip to DC this last week and flying back the American Airlines plane was late getting to the DC Airport. As we boarded the plane a short young woman in front of me stopped at her seat and attempted to put her carry-on in the overhead bin. She made a couple of tries and the suitcase started falling and she asked for help. I grabbed the bag and pushed it into the overhead but the flight attendant who was standing nearby admonished the passenger not to bring luggage too heavy to handle. Actually, the bag was not heavy at all, she was too short. Anyhow, as we were coming in over Miami Beach, I took out my Kodak Easy Share that I have used to take pix from the airplane windows because there were a couple of shots I wanted of my hometown from that perspective. This same flight attendant came and told me and the guy behind me to turn off our cameras. OK, a digital camera is an electronic device but it does not put out radio waves or any kind of detectable EM field, so I thot it was exempt from the rules against cell fone use. Tried explaining that to the stewardess, but she was insistent. I just restarted flying last August and on ALL the four planes I took, I got pix while taking off and landing with this same camera and NO ONE told me not to. MIA Below 10K Feet Miami, Still Below 10K Feet Miami Rush Hour Below 10K Feet However, I did learn something on this flight. If you are going to mumble to the guy behind you what a bitch the stewardess is, swallow first. I had noticed that my hearing would diminish unnoticed until I swallowed then there would be a burst of sound hit my ears. Apparently, I made that comment too loud and the bitch came to my seat to let me know she heard my “joke.” I think the implication was that she was being nice not to report me to the TSA Gestapo which can violate any protections we once thot we had guaranteed by the US Constitution. However, I was safe from any further reprisal because on landing we had one of those fast braking moments when everyone was pulled forward in their seats and the food cart broke loose and went barreling down the aisle. It hit a guy’s leg that was out in the aisle and he let out a scream and a long line of moaning in Spanish. So, we had to wait to get off the plane until the paramedics removed the guy in a wheelchair. As I left the plane I noticed the Miami-Dade cops were taking a statement from everyone – probably going direct to the lawyers – so the flight crew had more problems than some irate old man wanting to take pics while the plane was below 10K feet.
Actually, it was getting dark as we flew in so the pics aren't so good, but it is interesting to see your home from so hi up. This is where I live and that nearest causeway is part of my six-mile daily trip to work.
Great photos! I used to hate flying too. Now I love it. I even esp love flying in turbulence - like the feeling in my belly. You're doing great facing your fears!
Thanx. Unfortunately, the original essay doesn't have any fotos any more because I moved them on Photobucket and for some reason the editing feature is removed from posts on this site after a while, so I can't go put in the new URL. However, if anyone wants to see them that other guy has them on his personal Webpage. http://home.earthlink.net/~robwrites/id23.html BTW, I have gotten back into the acceptance of flying, like I did in the '60s & '70s and actually look forward to that rush of thrusting during takeoff. I guess going to a reunion of B-24 pilots who were being shot down on their bombing missions puts flying in proper perspective.
