CHAPTER 12 THE CONTEST

This trip brings back wonderful memories. I carry a photo of the crew I worked with for three days with me when I travel.

Leaving Boise wasn’t too difficult despite my wake up call at 0350. At least I was in my home time zone. I was able to fall asleep around nine the night before. We were on our way to SFO and landed there in fog, yet by the time we reached the end of the runway, the fog was no longer present and it appeared to be the start of a beautiful day in the city by the bay. The passengers deplaned and we had about thirty minutes to spare. We sat in first class and ate breakfast while we talked about the rough day from the day before.

Maintenance was correcting a minor problem with an airflow valve. I asked Don where the fix was taking place. Not sure what I meant, I inquired if they were working on the nose of the plane or the tail, or what? Now understanding me, he tells me they are working on “the thing on the thing.”

“Oh, the round thing hanging off the flat thing?” I asked.

He said, “I think so.”

Tami asked if that was the tail, so Don looked forward, towards the cockpit, holding in his laughter.

“We don’t have a tail, just a bow and a stern,” pointing to the cockpit as the direction of the stern.

“I thought the bow was when we come down for a landing,” I chimed in. We practically rolled in the aisle at how funny we thought we were.

Fun time came to an end as passengers began to appear wanting to be flown to Burbank, CA. We were quite entertained and I enjoyed seeing our dynamics of working together begin to change as we got more familiar with each other. The five of us began to really get along well and we all had respect for the jobs we were responsible for to the company. The flight attendants respected the pilots’ great ability in landing a plane; the pilots respected us for being able to handle the passengers and the safety issues that come up constantly. It was apparent that the pilots would not have been able to handle my previous day as gracefully as I had, as hard as it was for me to do.

The engine was fixed but required a ground start to test. I noticed that the fog that had ended at the northern edge of the airport had now moved to consume the entire airport. I could hardly see the plane two gates down. However, our door was shut and the bridge pulled back. We would not push back for a while, as there was talk on the radio in the cockpit about visibility. The concern was that we would not be able to return to the airport after take-off should we need to, due to an emergency.

It was fifteen minutes later when we finally pushed and were on our way down a runway we could not see the end of. For that matter, I could only see as far as two sets of white stripes, the same ones Don and Tom were trying to set the plane down on when we would land.

Our load in the back was only nineteen people, so the service was really quick. After noticing how beautiful the coast was from the windows in the back of the plane, I decided to go up front for a better view. Tami was also up there and the view really was spectacular.

The mountains of Southern California were white-capped. The trees grew all the way to their peaks, interrupting the snowfall like a dippled piece of art. To the right was the Pacific Coast, jagged and curvy and white where the sea foamed in agitation at the shore interrupting its progress. The water was a rich blue, which gave the whole spectacle of my view a surreal effect. The green of the mountain slopes slid away from their white peaks into the shore of tan sand and brown rocks, which lined the coast from north to south, then having the white foam and dark blue water give it its boarder on the other side. It was too perfect.

Tom pointed out to us a formation at the western edge of a mountain ridge that was a straight line but with a zippered effect. That was the San Andreas Fault. I took in that line on the earth with awe. I’d never seen a fault line before. Just ahead, or to the south, the line of the San Andreas Fault darted left, or east, and under ground pushing up a great range of mountains North of LA.

The landing into SFO that morning, our first of the day, was rough, obviously due to the fog. I had commented to Barbara that whoever landed that one had lost a beer. But our landing into a fog-less Burbank was equally as rough, and the stop was much quicker, not greased. I commented to the pilots that for that landing they owed us a beer! I was told that the runway is really short in Burbank.

“If you don’t land soon enough and brake hard enough you will end up at the end of the runway just inches from the fence separating the airport from a Chevron gas station, where tense car owners fueling up will look up at the cockpit like deer in the headlight.” I laughed at the thought of standing there fueling my car and looking up to see a plane almost push past the fence, just a few feet away.

The airport in Burbank has no loading bridges, reminding me of airports from long ago when stairs are snuggled up to the side of the plane and one is exposed to the elements as they walk indoors to the terminal. The sun was out and it was actually quite warm. There was a slight breeze blowing across the airfield, and from the open doors on our plane, I could see the homes jutting out from the rising mountain to our east. They seemed to sit so high on the mountain. They would have a great view of the airport from up there! But only a guy like me would be more concerned with a view of the airport as opposed to any other.

Due to the fog still present at SFO, and being that SFO was our destination once more, we wound up holding on the ground for ninety minutes in Burbank. During that time there was much banter amongst the five of us working this flight.

Tami had reserved a car in Medford to drive out to Crater Lake on our layover that afternoon. We were to arrive there around noon, meaning we could get to the lake by two. She mentioned this plan in briefing the day before and I offered to accompany her.

She showed her tongue-in-cheek dislike for the delay to the pilots every few minutes, like it was their fault. She was wondering if there would be enough time, enough light, to see well if we drove to the lake almost two hours later than planned. Would they give her car away? Would they charge her for it anyway? Should she call and cancel the car? She kept barraging them with questions, letting the next fly from her mouth before they could launch an answer to the first.

Don decided to complain about Tami being so negative and picked on her for that. Don had misplaced something earlier and commented that it happens all the time now that he’s got kids. Tami was razzing Don for blaming it on his kids so he was looking for an excuse to get back at her. Tom, all the while, was spouting out useless information. It was all amusing us and allowed us to pass the time easily.

Not to be left out of the fun, I told Don that we enjoyed his announcements from the cockpit. “You’ve got such a soothing personality and speak so calmly that by the end of your announcement all the passengers are asleep.”

Tom thought my two-sided complement was the bomb! (Hilarious, that is.) Tami was laughing and Don just looked at me trying to keep a straight face, but loosing the battle.

“Should I tone them down some?” He finally asked.

“And put them in a coma? Nah,” I had to turn away so I could keep from laughing out loud and ruining the attempted seriousness.

Finally the word came that we were free to depart. I took my place at row one to perform my safety demo and waited for Tami. She started into the demo speech but had not given the command to arm doors. I could see that Barbara was in her position at the over wing exits and had already armed the aft doors, but I interrupted Tami and asked if she would care to arm hers. We both exploded into laughter and were feeling quite punchy by this time.

Arming the door means attaching the emergency slide, which rests in a compartment on the interior of the door, to the doorsill on the plane. If a door is opened in the armed mode, the slide pack slips out from its compartment and drops, inflating with a gas in a matter of seconds, allowing passengers to escape down the slide.

I armed door one right for Tami and went back to assume my place for the demo. Barbara was still in the aisle, now smiling at me, as if to indicate something more than just being friendly. I looked at her with some confusion and she waved at me, moving just her fingers, very seductively, teasing me and undressing me with her eyes. But I could do little to retaliate, since the entire plane was looking at me.

“What is she doing?” I asked of Tami. She leaned over to look down the isle at Barbara. She was still smiling and waving at me. “She’s freaking me out! Make her stop!” I pleaded, jokingly.

We got serious long enough to finish our safety demo and just before I left Tami to take my seat at the rear of the plane, she told me we needed to get a drink when we got to Medford. We would now be getting there around 1400 hours, so she had called to cancel the car. I agreed about the drinks and was disappointed I would not be seeing Crater Lake with her. I then had to give Barbara trouble for joking around with me just before the safety demo.