It was the summer of 1993 and I was a 20 something know nothing kid who was employed as an Alaskan part 135 single engine captain of the tundra. My mission that day was to fly up to a small village and meet a small party for a commanded scenic flight. Scenic flights were rare in the bush since you cant even go to the dentist without taking an airplane ride so I was intrigued and looking foreword to it.

On the ramp stood four stoic figures. I taxied up being careful not to blast them with dirt, and introduced myself. The oldest promptly projected himself and announced his name quickly followed by his title as a United Airlines Captain the second and third then did the same in similar style. They were all from a legacy of United Airlines hierarchy and carried themselves with the reserved poise of English royalty. The introductions were brief and I was stunned you how young a few of these United Airlines captains sons were. At the time I was one of the leaders in the industry from my college graduating class and my best was to Captain a Cessna 207. A recession was on and jobs were difficult to come by, however these guys were already First Officers in the 737 for UAL and my guess was that the sons were all in their mid to early 20's.

I felt small by comparison. I mean, what failures had I made to be so punished by my lowly position? At the time however, I knew few who were better off than I and none who wore a white shirt to work. The eldest gave a short list of attractions that they wished to view and I set to work instantly to fulfill their wishes. The weather was good and the season right to view many varieties of wild life and I felt satisfied that I met the objective. After an hour and a half we were back at the runway on final. I expected there to be some seat shifting and groans from the back as I glided to the gravel threshold but instead there was calm silence. I made a special attempt to make a smooth landing witch can be difficult in a heavily loaded 207 with oversized tires. To my relief the reunion with the earth was indeed non eventful and I was able to hold my head high throughout taxi and shutdown.

Back on the ramp the gray haired Captain projected his right hand with a five dollar bill and a stern “thank you for the nice ride” throughout the flight I was able to determining from eavesdropping that he was also involved in hiring at United so I mustered my courage and asked him what he thought of my chances at UAL and what I should do to improve my resume. With a quick glance and one squinted eye he asked only one question of me “who do you know at United”? “No one” I answered, in fact they were the first pilots who I ever met from United Airlines. After a short pause he answered a quick sentence “Not now, Not ever” and then turned and walked away.

I was stunned as if shot through with a bear gun. It took a minute or two to recover from the immediate shock of impact that those words had on my sole. I couldn’t believe that after that near perfect flight that he could so coldly assess my chances like that. I mean I was a good example of a healthy normal American kid who had perfect vision and a healthy love of aviation. How could he have known enough about me and my character in that 90 minute flight to be able to give such a harsh assessment of my young chances? Years later I was able to determine that he was trying to offer a kindness through a quick kill.

My guess is that he determined that without a strong introduction form someone well placed on the inside that my chances were slim. I was another garden variety suburban boy who would be lost in the ocean of clawing faces unable to rise above the mob in order to gain attention from the Human Resources Department. His words turned out to be prophetic. Not only did I never see the interview room at United Airlines but none of my coworkers in Alaska did either.

In the years to come I made a hobby out of going to aviation job fairs. I would stand in line with another hundred or so guys and gals dressed in dark blue suits. Always waiting at the end was a reserved and nearly emotionless guardian of one of the legacy airlines. Beyond them lied the path to my dreams. They would give my proud resume at least five seconds before either handing it back or waiting for you to turn to leave before tossing it into the trash. The brief meetings would conclude with an "I'm Sorry" or "Try again next year". All the while I knew that younger people with less experience were getting in. I was a healthy, athletic 20 something guy with good grades and an aviation degree. I had thousands of hours and a totally clean record in every way.

I applied to just about every airline that was hiring at the time. Eventually I began to recognize a pattern in those who did get hired and the slow realization began to sink in that my hopes would most likely would not be fulfilled. Looking back now I am thankful that things turned out as they had. I was forced to seek a life outside of aviation and though it has been difficult we enjoy a high level of life satisfaction as a result.

Skyhigh