Jumpseat- A Tale of Twisted Fate

by E E Valenciana

  Suddenly, a rusty old two tone car cut right into my lane on the freeway. I struck the center of my steering wheel blaring out my agitated response to the other driver's tactless action. I drove around and pulled up beside the relic heap. I glared through the side window where a strange, vile face stared back with defiance. The man revealed a callous look, an inability to comprehend the danger he created. His wide sunken eyes locked with mine and scoffed. They were void of compassion.

  “You ###hole,” the guy from Minnesota interceded. I drove away shaken.

  The driving became slow going and we worried that our classmates would wonder why we were not at the hotel. I was supposed to be ill and Mark was supposed to be tending to me. We tried to think of some excuse to use if questioned. Mark suggested that we simply tell the truth.

  “We'll tell them that we went to go have beers with Jesus,” he stated as he grinned widely. I could only shake my head.

  During the weeks that proceeded, Class 2 continued to excel as we got the opportunity to get hands on training in the various airships in the company's fleet. There were the Boeing 720, 727, 737 (dubbed Fat Albert by flight crews) and the DC-10. The “10” was used on longer flights over the Pacific, up to Alaska and down into Mexico. Each of the tri-jet's exit doors were classified with a number and letter referring to which side of the craft it was on. 1L and 1R were just aft of the cockpit at the head of first class. 2L and 2R were at the mid galley. 3L and 3R were adjacent to the wings. 4L and 4R were in the aft, with another small galley and lavatories. At mid galley was an elevator that led down below to the galley where all meals were prepared and sent up the elevator to the main cabin in carts. Of course at the end of class the elevator became a plaything for our amusement.

  Nestled in between first class and the mid galley were a few rows of coach christened El Segundo by flight crews. El Segundo is a quaint little community that has the distinction of being bordered on the south by a huge Chevron refining facility, on the west by the Pacific Ocean and on the north by Los Angeles International Airport, thus isolating the town in its own unique section of the basin. Since the coach section was also isolated and many crew members lived in the community, it was dubbed El Segundo and the name stuck.

  Kyle, Mark and I gathered in the aft section and were examining the jumpseats at 4L and 4R. Rear facing with its bottom folded up, it appeared as one solid unit.

  “Doesn’t look like much to save your ass if the plane goes down,” Mark stated. “Why are all the jumpseats positioned to face aft?”

  “Probably so the flight attendants can have a better view of the passengers,” Kyle remarked.

  “Not really,” I said. “Actually a person has a fifty percent greater advantage of surviving a major crash if facing aft. (I had spoken to aviation experts in my former travels.) The “G” forces involved in an aircraft incident do major damage to one's body, and by facing aft you lessen the chance of having your head snapped off.” Mark and Kyle looked shocked.

  “Why don't all the airlines have their passenger seats facing aft?” Mark inquired.

  “Because it is not marketable,” I explained.

  “You know this shit and still want to do this job?” Kyle asked.

  “I like to travel.”

  “How many types of fire extinguishers are available on the 10?” Our instructors tested us constantly. “Where are the life rafts on the 10 located.? How do you secure and arm the door at 2R on the 10? What exit would the F/As at 4L and 4R direct the passengers to if their exits were blocked in an emergency evacuation? We all studied the diagrams in our flight manuals over and over.

  “Hey Kyle, what rows of seats are restricted from children or the elderly on the 727?” I tested my friend.

  “Rows 14 and 16 are where the overwing emergency exits are located.”

  As the weeks passed the material given by our instructors increased and so did their expectations. It was a common occurrence that classes would lose a trainee or two during the process due to poor performance or personal reasons, but as we celebrated our midpoint after three weeks Class 2 remained intact.

  Each student was assigned a pair of mechanic overalls with the airline logo on the front and massive lettering on the back. We wore them proudly as we practiced evacuation drills on the aircraft jumping onto the inflatable slides attached at each exit. Some were detachable to use as flotation devices in the rare occasion of an emergency water landing, or “ditching.” The swimming pool at the hotel was reserved and utilized one afternoon so that the new kids could practice these water procedures. After awhile, as was predictable, we no longer wished to take the drills too seriously and eventually turned the experience into a pool party.

  With the use of the hotel gym I was able to maintain my weight and was fitted for my flight attendant uniform with its various color schemes and mixed accessories. We all looked so elegant and dashing as we paraded about with pride. All that was missing was our flight wings. The second to last week of training we were advised that the following day we would be guests at the executive board room where we would meet and interact with administrators of the airline. Up to this time we may have passed inspection by the company's Flight Attendant Training Department but the powers-that-be wished to have a closer look at the new young faces that were to represent their airline. In an effort to prepare her students, Marilyn assigned each trainee the task of presenting before the administrators an oral history of each executive. I was presented with a folder. The contents contained a biography of Mario Reddick, the Chief Executive Officer of the company.

  “Oh shit,” I muttered. I had been assigned the top dog himself. Kyle and Mark just shook their heads.

  “Good luck,” Mark stated as he rolled his eyes. The others had been designated various vice presidents and senior managers but everyone from mechanics, reservation agents, fuelers, baggage handlers, ticket agents and gate agents were all under the command of Mr. Reddick. The more I thought about it the more resolved I became to succeed in my introduction.

  “Obviously Marilyn had a reason she matched me with Mr. Reddick,” I thought. I took it as a sign that she had confidence in me to entrust me with such a responsibility. A summary of Mr. Reddick's life and accomplishments jumped off the pages as I stayed up late, reading and preparing.

  Before the era of deregulation men such as Mario Reddick were considered giants in the industry. He was there at the onset of the modern age of air travel. A graduate of a noted Big Ten university, he had worked his way up in the industry. He was also a member in good standing of the prestigious Conquistadores Del Cielo Club, conquerors of the sky. The organization was an all-male exclusive organization founded in 1937. Only those individuals of high esteem in global industry were ever considered for membership. It was a way to develop friendships and share a camaraderie at dude ranches and annual meetings in New York.

  Every detail was seen to in the preparation of the board room the following day for the appearance of our nervous class. There was the airline's special first class china set upon a large polished wooden table, although it was kept informal with just snacks and drinks. The finest products one would find in the first class cabin of one of our magnificent aircraft were on display. The students of Class 2 all knew just how important this day would be.

  The Flight Attendant Training Department was headed up by one classy lady named Barbara. Professional on every level she also displayed great insight and understanding. She had a willingness to work with any of us whether on specific material in a class or just lending an ear. I will always maintain my deepest respect and gratitude for her guidance. Her style was to mostly stay in the wings and allow her instructors to be upfront and personable. There was no doubt that she had seen to the detailed decor of the meeting room that day.

  Exactly at a specific time the doors opened and the executives all entered the room. I immediately sighted the silver haired distinguished figure leading the group. Tall and fit, the icon was in his mid-sixties. Mr. Reddick
carried himself with a confidence that radiated throughout the room. His navy blue double-breasted suit spoke of his impeccable taste. He seemed a bit taken by surprise as I seized the moment and stepped forward to personally welcome him and the other leaders to our gathering. It was more impulse, an act to squelch the anxiety in me, but as I glanced over at Barbara I could tell that she seemed pleased. The other trainees took note and advanced to greet the specific individual Marilyn had assigned them. There was initial small talk and both bosses and new hires settled down into a more relaxed atmosphere. Barbara and her crew, at the appropriate time invited the leaders of each department to sit and allow the students to present themselves and express their wholehearted desire and pleasure at being part of our airline family.

  With only knowledge of my own interview process weeks prior, it became evident why each and every member of Class 2 had been selected amongst the numerous applicants that entered the offices of human resources each and every day. When the time came for my presentation I was determined not to let my teachers down. My oration on Mr. Reddick was spot on and well received. Each introduction by fellow classmates motivated the entire group. Heck, even the rogue trio was rooting for Janey when her time came. I believe this was felt also by the executives themselves, acknowledging their approval and proclaiming Class 2 to be a fine example of what they desired the flying public to encounter when boarding one of our aircraft.

  One executive who expressed his personal commendation was a tall, lean gentleman who was introduced as the Vice President of In-Flight Services. Barry Lane was well known in the company for being a person who would lend his ear to the common worker. Barry started out as a ship cleaner in the early years, dealing with the messes left by the passengers. He had experienced getting dirty with all the rest of the little guys and giving his all for our company. Now through hard work and education he rose to lead the cabin crews of our airline. His soft mannerisms and willingness to remain with the class when the other managers had departed said volumes about how he cared for his own. He earned my trust and respect that day.

  Barbara and her staff were also well pleased and that was a bonus because we all had developed a tremendous liking for her. Each trainee left the meeting with the powers-that-be with a great deal of satisfaction. Things were going so right for all of us.

  There remained one vital bit of information to be obtained by each and every one of us. Once we graduated, where in the airline's regional system would we be based. This would be determined by company need. Rumors abounded; some said it would be Seattle, others said Minneapolis.

  “I hate the cold,” I complained as both mid-western boys laughed. They were used to frigid weather. One reason I applied with the west coast carrier was in the hopes that I could be based right here in my own home town. Such a possibility was nonexistent in other airlines. Most of their new hires were sent to some city with difficult weather to be endured until an appropriate amount of seniority was acquired to get you back out to the west coast. As I would come to learn, seniority was everything. Seniority determined where one was based, what flight assignments you were issued each month, when you took your vacation and what position you worked on the aircraft.

  I had one ace up my sleeve as the day arrived and the bases were to be announced. I thought of testing to become a Spanish speaker requiring I be based at LAX. My family roots were planted deep. I wanted to have my cake and eat it too, being there for family gatherings and to also have my magic carpet available to jet me away to some exotic location. The price for a locked-in slot at such a senior base as LAX for a Spanish speaker was banishment to the world of Mexico flights. Every F/A certainly looked forward to experiencing the festivities and historic locations to be found down south, but flying to the same destinations day in and day out could get tiresome. I made the fateful decision to bypass the opportunity to apply as a translator gambling I would be selected to remain in Los Angeles anyway.

  Seniority again would be a determining factor, but since everyone in Class 2 had the same date of hire our personal age would regulate the selection. The eldest would have first choice of available bases and the youngest would be assigned what was left. I was third eldest and knew that the two older students, Kyle being one of them, were from the Midwest and therefore would want to be based closer to their hometowns.

  Barbara arrived at our classroom to find us filled with anticipation, yet something was up. She got right to business.

  “Okay, I have the information on your base assignments.” She paused as she enjoyed seeing our faces flexed with expectancy, listening to her every word. “There are twelve of you going to Denver and three of you staying in Los Angeles.”

  “Yeah!” I had beaten the odds. I realized that being based at LAX meant years of flying on reserve, having to remain on-call by a telephone so that scheduling could assign me at their discretion to whatever flight needed me to fill-in and that was just fine. I thought it a small price to pay for being given what thousands of flight attendants throughout the country wait years for; I was going to remain home. There was a sense of sadness though as Kyle and Mark both opted to go to Denver as most of Class 2 would. There would be little chance of seeing my fellow rogues as we flew to different destinations but it would happen. I would be on my own at LAX having to meet other flight attendants, make new friends and develop relationships.

  Once all of the details of issuing our base assignments had been completed, Barbara steadied us for more developments. The airline had currently been in the process of having three new 737s scheduled to be delivered from the Boeing plant in Washington State within days. As is common in corporate deals there was a snag. The three aircraft were going to be delayed by a period of three months. That equated to the airline not needing us for that period of time. Class 2 was to be furloughed. Of course we would be eligible to apply for unemployment compensation but that was little solace for the dejected new crew-members. Our graduation would still go on as scheduled but then we would be released to go our own ways and nervously anticipate when the airline would recall us or if they ever would.

  But Barbara had saved the very best for last. She announced that in a gesture of good faith and as recognition for our dedication each of the graduates of Class 2 would be granted full flight benefits during our lay off period.

  “What?” My body jerked with excitement. “What? What?” Had I heard right? Every new hire must complete a six month probation, on the job training, before being fully accepted and granted such benefits. We all rushed from our seats and jumped for joy. Some of the ladies in the class hugged Barbara and the other instructors. Of course this meant one thing in the minds of the majority, free passes to Hawaii.

  Chapter II

  Our commencement ceremony was filled with so much promise and hope. We had made it through one of the most important times in any of our lives. Every F/A remembers and cherishes the day of his/her graduation from Flight Attendant Training. The photos and diploma would come to represent a precious time in the lives of all those entrusted with the safety of the flying public.

  Barbara had done it up right. Representatives of various companies respected highly in the airline industry were on hand to officially pin our flight wings on our freshly pressed company uniform. The ladies were also presented with Orchids. A wonderful lunch was served and a childlike thrill was displayed by the F/As of Class 2. There would be no drunken festivity after the formal event. No, Waikiki would be our next port of entry and once there we would have plenty of time to celebrate on the white sandy beaches. We already had our regulation suitcases packed.

  I said my fond farewells to my classmates, vowing to remain in touch. My plans were to visit with my family then prepare to return to LAX the following morning to stand-by for a seat on a flight to Honolulu. Yet, I had one more obligation to see to. I drove to the offices of the East Los Angeles Travel Agency. I paused outside dressed in my airline uniform, flight wings glistening in the sunlight. I slowly opened the door and
walked right in to see Stephanie Rhinehardt.

  “My, my indeed,” she stated. “We have come a long way from the boy who did not know you had to have a passport to travel abroad!” I could tell that she was pleased. I would call upon her for guidance in my many travel plans, each trip becoming longer and more bold. She had truly opened the world up for me and now Hawaii awaited.

  Some people believe that airline personnel have the ability to just get on any plane, at any time, at will. The truth is there are different degrees of what is sometimes called a pass. A request would be submitted by an employee and someone in the general office would type up a ticket with at least three copies attached. Within a short period of time, a crew member would visit their official mailbox in the flight attendant lounge to check if the desired ticket had arrived. Of course checking the passenger load on any given flight was vital in planning your escape and adventure. There were regulations covering the use of the pass and more regulations on how to dress, how to act and what not to say when traveling virtually free. I would become a walking encyclopedia on these rules and regulations, not just of our airline but the multitude of airlines throughout the world that had reciprocal agreements with our company.

  Once arriving at the terminal gate of your desired flight with plenty of extra time to spare, you presented your pass to the agent. This person then became the gatekeeper who determined whether you would be allowed to take a seat once all the paying passengers had boarded. If you were well dressed, very patient and developed a connection with the agent there was the possibility that this person could assign you a seat in First Class if available. That was the hope and dream of every employee traveling on a pass, whether on your own airline or that of a competitor. The selection of which passes had priority was of course determined by seniority. All passes were on standby status with the exception of the “A” pass. The holder of an “A” pass was a “must fly,” even surpassing a paying passenger. These magic coupons were reserved mostly for top executives, important business clientele of the airline or political allies in the ever changing climate of the airline industry.