Mom Tells How Flying Used To Be
 

This blog is from a blogger who asked her mom to blog about the good old days of flying back when there were no bloggers to blog about anything at all.

Mom Tells How Flying Used To Be


I am not quite as old as that mom, but my very first passenger flying experience was international. It was on the old Northwest Orient. I still remember that long flight as if it just happened yesterday. On days when I feel particularly nostalgic, I pull out the airline silverware that my father used to put into his briefcase after meals. He said he could never know when he might need a nice, sturdy spoon and fork.

On domestic flights, I miss TWA a lot. I remember taking it on a business trip once. There was smoke and the pilot decided to land - somewhere in South Dakota. Cell phones back then didn't work as well and I couldn't call the office. Anyway, I know that's not a story of how flying used to be, but it does bring back nice memories.

One used to be able to get a deck of cards to pass the time. Kids' wings were made of metal with actual pins. Stewardesses had the time to talk to pax and fawn over cute little kids. Some companies had the "bubble gum cards" with a picture of the plane. The planes either flew low and slow (so you actually saw people that look as small as ants) or high and as fast as the ol'girl would go.

Yeah, buddy. I remember the good ol' days of the early '70s even! :)

As a kid, I got metal wings, swizzle sticks, and napkins from Piedmont and Eastern. I wish I still had them. Who didn't love the whine and roar of those mean turbojets on the 727 and 737? Solid airframes and loud, smoking engines - those were the days.

Dad took us all to the theater to see "Airport." I'll never forget that scene with Patroni getting the 707 freed from the snow. "Mr. Patroni, she won't take much more!" "Well, anyway, she's gonna get it." :D

YouTube - Airport - Clearing The Runway

Can I tell a story? When Desert Storm kicked off, I was an avionics puke on the KC-135 and B-52 in the AF. We flew an A-model KC-135 from California to Guam by way of Hawaii. After our RON at Hickam, including a tour for a bunch of us, including my new wife, given by the crew chief, who was as sexy as any young lady ought to be and who paid entirely too much attention to me, we took off and lost radar, which was required for the trans oceanic sortie. We dumped fuel and landed and were stranded in the terminal facing a long wait for the local maintenance boys. I asked for and got permission to ride out and fix it myself. I grabbed another Sgt and we headed for the flightline. With no ground equipment, the other guy gave me boost up into the nose hatch where I squatted and "fixed" the radar with a spare fuse. (Yeah, those old, heavy units used standard glass fuses.)

We got out two hours later and made it to Andersen AB, Guam, where we were rewarded with a rotten storm after a hell of a stretch for the KC-135. The visitor billets were maxed out with all the arrivals for the war and, luckily, the dude at the counter was my rank and took care of me. Two male E-7s had to double up while a female airman got her own room so my wife and I could share a room. :D White sand beaches, clubs on the beach in the middle of the jungle, coconuts in the trees, scuba diving to die for, and the smell of JP4 in the air. It was like living a movie.

I was needed home earlier than my wife after months of that "grueling" life and headed out one dark and stormy night on the same 135. We lost an engine 30 mins after TO and had to return. You should have seen my wife's face when I walked into the bar where she was hanging out with several of our "buddies." I just smiled as I walked by to get a drink. Some hours later, and in no condition to stand upright, we got on our fixed bird to head home. After another RON at Hickam, we headed for California. That same gracious crew chief once again eased my burden by waking me from a frozen half-sleep on the cold deck to offer me her crew bunk. What a sweetie.

When she woke me from my dreams some hours later, she informed me that the radar had died and that somebody had to either fix it in flight, or we were going to have to return to Hickam. I had been nominated. Receiving permission from the AC and a penlight from the Nav, I jumped thru the crew grate onto the exit door, noting that the flight crew had donned OX and strapped in. I crawled over the nose gear well and weaved my way amid the control cables and avionics in the dark, 30-some-thousand feet over the pacific, into the nose. I fixed that stupid radar again with a spare fuse and a mini maglite then crawled back out of the wine cellar, climbed the ladder and shut the grate. I handed the Nav his flashlight and told him to leave it low range, which used less power, told the AC we were fixed, and returned, amid cheers from the tired warriors who wanted to be home, to that warm bunk. I got a medal for that mission, but it didn't compare to the rest of my dream.

No security! wow, that must've been the days. can you imagine how nice it would be not to go through that on a daily basis. For passengers, I would say going through security is the #1 thing that they hate about flying.

In the '60s
 

Yes, and at one time passengers could visit the cockpit inflight! A F/A once asked for volunteers to help her bring in a cake and sing "Happy Birthday" to the F/O during cruise. :)

I find it interesting how Mom forgets how much those tickets cost back in the day.

Amazing how our minds forget.

I paid $800 for a roundtrip DAL flight to Germany in 1987. I had one of the cheapest fares on the flight. That same ticket would cost roughly $1,700 now.

Could you imagine if airlines were able to charge the same like they did back in the day?

My parents recently flew from Seattle to London. When I told my grandpa how long the flight was he mentioned that it took the same amount of time to fly from the West Coast to Hawaii in a Connie.:eek: My how times have changed.

Another 32871! Done that,too, going to the
Azores!

Hey. Good to hear from somebody else who pulled that one! Pretty interesting task.

Sorry, Vagabond, for the thread hijack. All those thoughts about the good ol' turbojets of the glory days brought back memories. I was drinking and had to tell that story. :p

My Dad flew everywhere on business, so I remember the trips to the airport to drop him off or pick him up. We always parked and the whole family went into the terminal. What an exciting place!

Sometimes we went to the observation deck outside where we could watch Dad board or disembark while he waved and we all waved back. If he was coming home, we would all race to the gate to meet him. No security to spoil the day back then.

On his flights he always got a travel bag with the airline logo on it, playing card, stationery, and wings.

Years later, my Dad and I were invited into the cockpit flying into Hong Kong on the checkerboard approach.