by Richard Foss
Similarly, at that time almost all American airlines were making more money carrying mail than passengers, and many flights made stops far out of their way to take advantage of these subsidies. Though all US airlines were under private ownership, the federal government had created a system that forced them to make route and schedule decisions based on where mail needed to go. Payments were based on pounds carried per mile and were very generous; Pan Am employees in Miami were actually assigned to mail bricks to their counterparts in the US-administered Panama Canal Zone, who mailed them right back as soon as they were received. Other airlines also found ways of gaming the system, and in early December 1929 United Airlines distributed thousands of Christmas cards weighing exactly one ounce for their employees and investors to mail to anyone along their routes.
Passengers were unimportant in this situation, and sometimes were made to fly with bags of mail in their laps. Occasionally people were actually bumped from flights so aircraft could carry more of the heavily subsidized cargo. At a time when European carriers were flying large numbers of passengers on fast aircraft between major cities, most US airline flights carried fewer than six people on flights with many detours.
That changed in 1930, when the incoming Hoover administration named Walter Brown as new postmaster general, the official responsible for administration of mail services. Brown took the job with very little knowledge of airlines or aircraft but learned quickly, and he decided that the existing system was retarding the development of efficient domestic air service. (As was pointed out later, developing an efficient airline network wasn’t really his job, but he decided it should be a national priority and used the power of his office to do it.) Brown and friendly Republican legislators drew up a bill called the McNary-Watres Act that passed in April 1930, which suddenly and drastically changed the rules by which airlines were paid for transporting airmail. Instead of paying by the pound for airmail no matter how it was transported, this act set a very low base rate that had substantial extra payments if the delivery aircraft flew at night, over mountains, had multiple engines, or most importantly, carried passengers. As a result, passengers became much more important, and getting people to their destination on time and in comfort spurred airlines to buy larger and better-equipped planes. Brown also created incentives for long-haul routes instead of multistop flights, saying that he thought all airlines should fly “from somewhere to somewhere.”1
The very short timeline on implementing those rules meant that many previously profitable enterprises could not react in time and went bankrupt, and later investigations showed that Brown had acted in a way that was dictatorial. At a 1934 senatorial hearing investigating charges of collusion and arbitrary enforcement, Brown vigorously justified his actions:
I could think of no other way to make the industry self sustaining, make it economically independent, than to come tell the airmail contractor to get some revenue from the public. Almost all of them were refusing to carry passengers and were depending almost wholly on the post office department, and we were getting nowhere in the development of airplanes. . . . I believe it was my duty to force them if I could, under the law to get revenues from non-postal sources, and the obvious one was passengers.2
Though the administration essentially admitted the charges that some companies had been favored over others and mergers had been forced by government coercion, the rules remained in place. The result of Brown’s meddling was a drastic consolidation of the industry, as small lines that had depended on airmail subsidies were sold to carriers that owned larger aircraft, or could afford to purchase them immediately. Almost overnight the American airline industry was transformed into a pattern that held for almost forty years.
Pan Am retained an effective monopoly on international routes except to Canada, and three major domestic long-haul airlines emerged from the chaos: United, American, and TWA.
Other carriers established strong regional presences, such as Eastern Airlines, which dominated the New York to Miami and Atlanta market. As was the case with many carriers, Eastern served no inflight meals except breakfast, which consisted of Coca-Cola, tea biscuits, coffee cake, George Washington brand instant coffee, bouillon, tea bags, and boiling water. Passengers didn’t always get even that, because stewardesses found making coffee and tea on turbulent flights dangerous. They often wouldn’t mention that hot beverages were available unless passengers asked.3 Eastern was evidently the first airline to serve carbonated soft drinks on board, which isn’t too surprising, since the airline was then headquartered in Atlanta. This was also the home of Coca-Cola, whose executives were frequent passengers.
Eastern avoided the effort of serving lunch on board by having all flights in both directions stop at Richmond, Virginia, where a huge Southern meal was served at picnic tables while the aircraft was refueled and serviced. The meal was catered by a local restaurant and included in the ticket price. This strategy was copied by other carriers, not always successfully; United tried opening a restaurant at the airport in Cheyenne, but it was unpopular. The harsh weather in Wyoming during much of the year may have been one factor in dooming an outdoor restaurant, but according to High Horizons, passengers liked to watch the airplane being serviced and then wanted something when they got back on board.4
Among the major carriers, TWA took advantage of their investment in fast and technologically sophisticated Fokker F-10 Trimotors to do something nobody had done before: flying long-distance overnight passenger flights that also carried mail, reaping multiple subsidies in the process since they were flying overnight, over mountains, and carrying passengers. On February 2, 1931, a Trimotor took off at 8 p.m. in Pittsburgh and arrived in Los Angeles at 6 p.m. the following day. The glory the airline received for this feat was almost immediately eclipsed when an identical TWA aircraft suffered a structural failure inflight and crashed the next month. The resulting bad press doomed that airliner in the American aviation market, and canceled bookings almost caused the airline to go out of business.
American flew a tangled route system with a motley array of aircraft, the best and fastest of which was the twelve-passenger Curtiss Condor. Someone at the carrier believed in experimenting with the menus, which were different from the plates of fried chicken featured aboard almost all other flights. American’s first stewardess, Velma Maul Tanzer, remembered that in 1933 she served salted nuts, consommé, sandwiches, green salad with a special American Airlines dressing, pickles, cake, coffee, and pistachio ice cream.5
In 1937 an American Airlines manager at Washington’s Hoover Airport (now National Airport) who wanted to improve the food on board made what turned out to be a momentous decision—to ask the manager of a nearby restaurant called the Hot Shoppe to provide sweet rolls and coffee for morning flights. The manager of the restaurant was William Kahrl, and after delivering food in paper bags as was usual, Kahrl decided there had to be a better way.6 Kahrl organized the deliveries, providing all the food and paper supplies preloaded on trays and putting it on a pushcart to roll across the street to the airport.
The operation was efficient and profitable and came to the attention of the Hot Shoppe’s owners, the Marriott Corporation. The company decided to replicate the process elsewhere, and this was the foundation of the huge Marriott airline food service operations. Though American had pioneered the service on an informal basis, Eastern Air Transport was first to sign a formal contract to cater their flights, with American following a few months later. This was the beginning of a relationship between those carriers and Marriott Catering that lasted for many decades.
Marriott was the second restaurant chain (after the Harvey House) to start a substantial airline catering operation, and the first to deliberately situate catering operations in or near airports. Marriott innovated on the delivery of food service to the aircraft, but at first did not go beyond the very limited selection of sandwiches and fried chicken.
The airline that became most deeply in
volved in food service was United, and they focused on food because they had no choice. United was a successor to Boeing Air Transport, which was owned by the aircraft maker, and even after they became independent they used Boeing’s products exclusively. In 1930 United’s fastest aircraft were Type 80-A biplanes that held twelve passengers and averaged 120 miles an hour. At this speed, flights from New York to San Francisco took thirty-two hours of flying time under the best conditions and involved fourteen refueling stops en route. A United Airlines manual of the time read, “Remember to carry on board picnic hampers containing cold fried chicken, apples, rolls, cake, and vacuum flasks of hot coffee for passenger meals.”7 It’s a measure of how monotonous the meals were that the exact menu was written in the airline’s manual. The food may have been predictable, but schedules weren’t; stewardesses were told to carry a railroad timetable in the event the flight was grounded somewhere, and to accompany stranded passengers to the railroad station.
The change in airmail contracts spurred Boeing to rush a new aircraft into production in 1933. The Boeing 247 was a monoplane that was forty miles an hour faster than the Type 80s and flew twice as far, though usually carrying only ten passengers. Armed with a new, faster aircraft that had public confidence, United’s management congratulated themselves on achieving lasting technical superiority. Less than a year later, American and TWA flew their first flights with DC-3s, which could fly over two hundred miles an hour and carried twenty-four passengers.
This picture of the galley of a DC-3 shows the peak of prewar technology aboard American aircraft. Note the space-saving stainless steel compartments and beverage dispensers. Because this is a Delta Airlines publicity shot, the bottle of Coca-Cola is prominently displayed—that Atlanta-based company gave Delta a lot of business.
Image provided by Delta Airlines museum.
United struggled to find ways to entice the public aboard not only their 247s, but the even less competitive 80-A Trimotors that they still flew on some routes. Stuck with smaller, slower aircraft that they hadn’t paid off yet, United decided to improve their meals and promote their service. On the Trimotors, which were eventually relegated to the shortest routes, they started offering a choice of different types of sandwiches. Stewardess Mary O’Connor remembers that when she started flying aboard these aircraft in 1933, “We served fruit cocktail and three kinds of sandwiches: chicken, Canadian bacon, and cheese. The first passengers offered the tray always got the chicken and the last, the cheese.”8
United kept tinkering with ways to improve inflight service, including introducing dry ice to keep meals cool and fresh in 1935. (This made sense because dry ice has twice the cooling energy per pound, and as it warms it creates no puddles of water to slosh around the airplane.)9 United also broadened the available beverages beyond coffee and tea to include cocoa, though the water to make these was still kept in thermos bottles rather than heated on board. United also apparently installed chafing dish–type “steam chests” on some 247s,10 but if so only aboard a few of them. None of the memoirs I have been able to find that were written by stewardesses mention any experience with these, and such a significant departure from normal operations would seem to be worth noting.11
In 1936 United hired an engineer named Henry Dreyfus to design a combination lunchbox and serving tray that was made of papier-mâché and used lightweight cups and plates made from an early form of plastic called beetleware. The lunchboxes could be packed attractively in advance and saved stewardesses the effort of plating the meals before serving them. The food at that time was still the usual fried chicken, but that wasn’t the case for long. That same year United’s management made what turned out to be a momentous decision—they hired a Swiss chef named Don Magarell to make a complete break with the tradition of chicken and sandwiches purchased from local restaurants. Magarell had originally been brought in from Cornell University as a food consultant to help design galleys for future aircraft, but he became so interested in the question of how to improve airline food that he quit the company he had been working for to join United as an employee.
Magarell’s first initiative was to convince the airline to set up their own flight kitchens at major airports to prepare meals just before flight time, instead of contracting with restaurants that could be as much as an hour away by car. United’s management let him try out the idea at Oakland Airport, which was then the busiest hub on their system. Magarell’s kitchen opened in December 1936 and paid for itself in three months with the savings in food cost. Passengers sent enthusiastic letters about the food served aboard the planes, the first positive comments the airline had received in a long time. United’s management was delighted and told Magarell to set up kitchens at all of their principal airports.
Even before Magarell had his facilities built, he hired a team of Swiss, French, and Austrian chefs to transform the meals at United. Sensing that passengers would prefer light, varied meals, Magarell came up with ways to serve less food but arrange it beautifully, and he introduced menus printed with the names of the dishes in English and French. Choices expanded at every meal, and milk started being offered to passengers alongside coffee and tea, originally as a promotion with the Borden Company.12
Though Magarell’s improved and varied meals received rave reviews, nothing that United did could attract time-sensitive business passengers to their older and slower aircraft. The airline lost market share wherever they had competitors. United’s former owners and longtime partners at Boeing didn’t have a new land-based aircraft ready because all their efforts were going to designing a new seaplane, and the aircraft then available from Holland’s Fokker and Germany’s Junkers were no great improvement on the 247. Another American aircraft, the Lockheed Electra, was very fast but held only ten passengers and was apparently never seriously considered. United finally broke their long relationship with Boeing and ordered DC-3s from competitor McDonnell-Douglas in 1937. The logic was inescapable; it was the fastest and most cost-effective aircraft in the skies. It has been estimated that by 1940 eighty percent of air passenger traffic worldwide was in DC-3s, which were also built overseas by companies that licensed the design. Among the many novel features of this workhorse aircraft was the first galley with work tables and insulated food storage in latched drawers, plus built-in thermos jugs with spigot handles for storage of hot beverages. It was a major step forward for the cabin crew, who no longer had to unpack wicker hampers of premade meals in flight and repack them with dirty dishes when lunch was over.
When United finally got DC-3s, they again experimented with inflight service to try to obtain a competitive advantage. Their first idea was a concept called the Skylounge, featuring extra legroom and swivel chairs, but passengers grumbled at the two-dollar extra cost, and the idea was scrapped. The next idea was to outfit an aircraft on the overnight San Francisco–Chicago run as a sleeper similar to a Pullman rail car, with full beds for all passengers. The stewardesses awakened passengers in the morning with rolls, coffee, and scrambled eggs.13 These were loaded at a refueling stop in Omaha, Nebraska, just before dawn, and served as soon as possible so they wouldn’t deteriorate.
United’s daytime flights on DC-3s offered luxurious appointments, with Haviland china and damask linen with fresh flowers at every table. Don Magarell’s efforts at improving the taste and style of food aloft were the subject of a major PR campaign by United. The response from the press and public was overwhelmingly positive. In an unattributed article headed “Tasty Menus Now Offered by Air Line,” printed in the Oakland Tribune on March 5, 1937, the writer gushed,
Some three months ago United decided they wanted to have actual control of the kind of meals served passengers aloft. Knowing the tremendous advantages and conveniences of the new Douglas planes, they figured there was no good reason why piping hot meals could not be offered and service given comparable to a fine club lounge. And so this progressive concern set about to do a job. First in their planning came the setti
ng up of the commissary at the Oakland Airport—the only one of its kind at present, but forerunner of nine others to be situated at strategic points throughout the country. A well known chef, with an equally well known pastry chef selected a group of assistants and under Maître Magarell’s direction started giving the passengers something besides a picnic lunch. Variety, as well as tasty and eye-appealing foods will be the aim and from now on passengers will never know until the menu is presented what the selection will be. This will be a boon to the folks who fly frequently. Dainty linens, attractive china, a glassware of special make, and gleaming silver will make the estimated 415,000 meals served aloft by United Air Lines a true epicurean delight—a finished service for perfect foods. Would you feel that you had luncheoned well if you were served a Crabmeat Cocktail, Half Avocado and Grapefruit Salad, Relish, Buttered Bun, Cheese on Rye Bread, Ham and Turkey on White Bread, Royal Hawaiian Pudding Cake, Cookies, Nuts, Coffee, Tea or Chocolate? That’s what the noontime passengers had yesterday. Or how about this dinner: Shrimp Cocktail, Lettuce, Tomato and Egg Salad, Relish, Fried Chicken, Buttered Buns, Almond Blanc Mange, Cake and Cookies, (with) Mints, Coffee, Tea or Chocolate.14
Among other innovations, Magarell’s chefs created special meals for holidays; a St. Patrick’s day menu from 1940 was printed in green and listed a minted fruit cocktail, “Dublin style” leg of lamb stew, and “St. Patrick’s Ice Cream and Cakes.” The mint in the salad was presumably there to give a hint of green, and we can guess the color of the cake icing.15
Don Magarell turned out to be a showman as well as a chef—he did dozens of interviews that went so well he was eventually invited to radio host Fred Allen’s popular Hour of Smiles show. His banter with the host about the technology of cooking was by all accounts a highlight of the program.16 He had a long career with United Airlines and never lost his flair for publicity. When he was a vice president of the company in the 1960s, Magarell formed a jazz band composed of United Airlines executives, in which he played upright bass.17
