Pan Am Unbuckled: A Very Plane Diary (9 page)

‘Round The World ~ My First Flight

By the end of briefing—where the crew is given flight time and conditions information by the captain and assigned jobs by the purser— I was very excited. I was replacing a no-show, and joining a seasoned crew on a flight bound for London and as far east as Hong Kong. During briefing, I was initially assigned to the first-class galley. When details became clear— that this was literally my first trip out of training school, the senior purser, Georgia, decided that I would not be assigned first class galley after all. She made another crew member take first-class. The other stewardess was not happy with the decision, as she had more seniority and did not like being assigned to first-class. I learned that flight crew fell into two categories— those that did, and those that did NOT like to do the galley. Working the first class galley on a dinner service AND doing breakfast service into London was a lot of work—a LOT of prep work, and a LOT of organizing. The logic of the senior purser was indisputable— that it would be harder for everyone if I was in the first class galley since I lacked any real experience. Instead, I would work the first class cabin and then help with pick-up in economy.

As we walked out of the briefing room to catch the crew bus, I asked if I could make a phone call. The purser said she was sorry but I couldn’t—it would hold up the crew bus. We were walking past the mailroom and I tossed a note into Robbie’s box telling her that I was on Flight 2—hoping that she would get the note and know what that meant. (Later, Robbie made it clear to me that these re-routes would happen and were to be expected, and delays would happen and not to worry. One’s estimated time of arrival was always just a best guess. Scheduling was in charge.)

We got to the gate, boarded, and secured everything on the plane. Again, I asked if I could make a phone call. Georgia said “Okay, but do it quickly, as passengers are going to be boarding soon.” I found a pay phone nearby, in the terminal, and did something that I had never done prior or since—I placed a collect call to my mother.

My mother never made or accepted long-distance phone calls very graciously. They were, to her, a frivolous expense. She didn’t approve of yakking on the phone long distance. Even when I had an emergency appendectomy in Switzerland at age 15 my mother made one phone call to me from the US—and it was exactly 3-minutes long.

From that phone booth in JFK, I heard my dad answer and I said “Hi daddy is mom there?” ”Is something wrong?” he asked. “No, I just need to talk to mom really fast” I blurted. I told my mom I had been rerouted, and she asked if that meant I had lost my job. “No, I’m on a different flight. I’m on the ‘around-the-world.” She knew exactly what that meant. “Yes, mom, but I don’t have very much money and I don’t know what to do. I’m going, but can you get some money to me?” I pleaded.

“Don’t’ worry about it. I’ll have your dad wire you money to American Express -London. As a back-up, I’ll send a telegram to your Uncle Jimmy. How much will you need? Five hundred – yes — that will do.” I was just amazed! She said, “you may never get there again!” I was shaking my head. This was the same mom who didn’t write to me while I was in training, and didn’t come to my pinning ceremony—even though she lived less than two hours away— but, she came through now. This strange-but-wonderful bit of approval, sent me on high sails.

I went back to the plane smiling. Now, I knew I was set. It was going to be a two week vacation. I was going to treat the whole pattern as if I may never do this again and I would take advantage of it— the whole way.

London

When I got to London, I only had the thin flowered mini-skirted shift and bikini—meant for San Juan. The purser loaned me her uniform coat so I wouldn’t freeze. I changed into my galley shoes from the tote bag and walked from the hotel to the American Express Office in Trafalgar Square— with my passport and my Uniform bag. I gave the American Express agent my name and was given $500 in American Express traveler’s cheques.

I went directly to a Woolworth’s where I bought a pair of red canvas Nichols shoes—similar to American Keds. I was disappointed that Woolworths had changed so much since 1962— when I was last there. Woolworths used to have employees who walked around with money belts to make change for purchases picked out from large tables with wooden crate dividers on them. If a purchase was made with a bill that they didn’t have enough change for, they cranked a bell and another employee came over with a cashier’s belt strapped to their shoulders. Instead, today, they had me show them a passport and they made change out of the cash register. So, London had changed.

About this time, jet-lag hit like a bomb and I barely made it back to the hotel. I fell asleep like a faint— only to be awakened by the phone ringing. I was sharing a room with another stewardess and had been careful not to awaken her when I returned from shopping. It was Georgia, the Purser, on the phone. She said the crew party was in the first officer’s room. “What?” I asked. She said “You don’t want to miss the crew party. Don’t’ tell me they didn’t tell you in training school about the crew parties?” “No”, I yawned.

My roommate already knew there was a crew party— and that was why she was in the shower. I took a quick shower, too, which energized me a bit. Since I only had my little summer dress to wear, my roommate loaned me a sweater to wear with it. I was worried about having enough nylons for the trip. It was cold in London, so I wore my only pair to the party. Later that night, I got a snag in them, but so be it! I’d look a bit ratty the next day in uniform, but at least my legs were warm that night.

The whole crew—3 cock-pit and 6 flight service— went to the first officer’s hotel room. The first officer had purchased two fifths of British Ale. A couple of the crew had gone to the food hall at Harrods and had come back with a selection of exotic treats. We had a perfectly lovely little cocktail party sitting on the beds of the first officer’s hotel room. It is worth noting here, that everyone is always assuming that airline people steal the little bottles of liquor or food off the plane. Although I did know of one incident where someone took a complete roast beef home and served it for dinner at her home, it’s rarely true. Nothing could be further from the general truth.

I was still so tired I did not want to go out to dinner…which is what they were making plans to do. To Georgia’s credit, she made me go with them. She said that it was important on the first ‘leg’ of the long pattern to get integrated into the rest of the crew. Because I was so tired— and younger than the others on the crew—everyone was very kind to me. I got to know them and they got to know me during that dinner. For the rest of the flight it just got better and better, as everyone was so cordial, patient and supportive—both flight service and the cock pit.

Frankfurt

The next day, we left for Frankfurt. When we arrived in the afternoon, I literally ran to Bauhaus (a big department store) to buy panty hose. We were given per diem at every layover in the local currency. This time, I took my German Deutsche Marks and bought a pair of well-made German Jeans, a cute denim jacket, a t-shirt, some socks and more underwear. It all just squeezed into my Pan Am tote bag. Now, it was perfect and I wouldn’t be cold. It was a short layover in Frankfurt. I was exhausted even though it was not a long trip. All I wanted to do was get back to the hotel and sleep.

I was learning that this job had a physical side to it. I was going to have to pace myself if I wanted to act like a tourist on my layovers. That night’s crew party was in a Biergarten where we all drank too much beer. However, at departure, late the next day, I could not tell any ill effects of the night before on the cock pit crew. I was beginning to see that the cockpit crew lived a rough life style. Although it was wrong to make a gross generalization of pilots as a group— just as it was wrong to make gross generalizations of us as individual flight attendants—it was not an easy life-being away from home so much and in different ports constantly.

The next leg of our pattern was the flight to Beirut. We had a completely full passenger load and a complicated meal service—(lots of special meals…vegetarian, vegan, non pork, etc.) It was hard for me to keep track of all the individual meals people wanted while prepping and serving the hundred-plus regular meals. The two pursers always made a plan for the entire trip. On the outbound trip, one of the pursers would work up front—then, on the inbound trip, the other purser would work up front. We were rotating positions on every leg. So, on this leg, I was in first class on a daylight flight, working the galley. It dawned on me that I was pretty good in the galley. I was spending time chatting up the cock pit and getting more and more excited about going back to Beirut. My mother had taken my sister and me to Beirut seven years earlier and I had LOVED it! It was, as they said, ‘The Paris of the Middle East’. The cock pit crew was very bemused that as a new hire, I had already been to Beirut. They teased me a little bit about it “Why did you even take this job? You’ve been everywhere?”

Beirut

Our crew layover in Beirut was at the Phoenician Intercontinental Hotel. It was right across the street from the St. Georges Hotel, on the Adriatic Sea, where I had stayed as a child. I got out of the Blue Bird bus and looked across the road at the St. Georges with the deep blue of the Mediterranean Sea beyond it and it felt so surreal. The old St. Georges was built out of old stone, like a medieval fort, and had the presence of being a palace. The new Phoenician was surreal too—all marble, grand sweeping drive, with tall modern sleekness plunked right down in the middle of Beirut. Both hotels were within a block or two of the US Embassy.

As we alighted from the Blue Bird, we were met by a man in a turban and a sort-of-costume of baggy pants and shoes with turned up toes—just like Aladdin. In one hand he carried a copper tray holding demitasses cups, and in the other hand a long-stemmed kettle into which he poured long falls of dark, thick Turkish coffee. He offered the cups to us. This was the perfect antidote to the nighttime crew parties. I only needed to drink ONE of those to stay awake for the next 12 hours.

When we checked into our rooms, we were given our per-diem money in Lebanese Pounds. By now, I was making friends with my roommate, but she didn’t always want to do the things that I wanted to do. So, I ran downstairs by myself and got a taxi to the Beirut Souks (the central marketplace). I knew exactly what I wanted—a leather suitcase and some rose- gold jewelry. Because I was wearing British Nichols tennis shoes and German clothes, I didn’t think anyone would know I was an American.

I bargained a great price on a beautiful, full-sized, red leather suitcase. I learned from the crew what ‘step-2’ was, when buying anything at the Souks. ‘Step 1’ was my initial bargain, to get the price down—and ‘step 2’ was after that—at the very end— and before I closed the deal—I was to ask for the Pan Am discount. It might be 5-10%, but there always was one— as every vendor wanted Pan Am business. We were repeat business, and they hoped we would recommend them to other Pan Am employees and passengers.

Also, it was prudent to get the Pan Am MAN number included on the receipt— to keep the transaction really straight for us at US customs. The MAN (manual) number made it clear to customs that it was my purchase— and my purchase only. That helped me get the maximum allowable taxfree amount each quarter. Regular passengers could only bring in $100 per flight, but flight crews were allowed a lot more.

We didn’t need to worry about how big our suitcases were, as Pan Am crews never carried their own bags. Crew baggage was always carried by porters. At home base, I only had to get my bags from the Carey Bus to my apartment—so the big red suitcase was not going to be difficult for me to travel with. The suitcase cost me almost $20—which was most of the two-day per-diem money for my stay in Beirut—but it was so beautiful, it was worth it.