Jumpseat- A Tale of Twisted Fate

by E E Valenciana

  “Because you have him bound and gagged with your anger and hatred.” I stood shocked by her words. “He was on the plane with you, wasn't he?” I recalled the moment before the final impact.

  “Everything will be okay.” I heard the whisper once more. I looked back at Rachel. It finally became clear to my dysfunctional brain. Perhaps the compassionate advice I was receiving from my good cousin offered an unexplored path worth investigating?

  I spent the rest of the day feeling safe. There was no rush to judgment by Rachel regarding my deplorable behavior. The opposite rang through as the seasoned nurse embraced my ailment and sought to find ways to soothe the deep rooted pain that anguished my soul. Rachel Ramos was true to her oath as a caregiver.

  A calm entered my spirit as we spoke of relatives and festive times. Composed, I decided to leave, which concerned Rachel.

  “Stay here, Eddy. You can spend the night.” I declined yet thanked my gracious cousin as she escorted me out to my vehicle.

  “What do you want to happen, Eddy?”

  “I want to be free from this burden.” I paused and thought. “I want a way out of this explosive minefield without having to turn on my airline.” I hesitated once more. “I want to find peace.” The emotions began to overcome me. “I suppose I was a miracle.”

  “I think you know where to put in your request.” Rachel hugged me, patted me on my shoulder and backed away as I started to reverse the car out of her driveway. Suddenly she stepped forward. “By the way, have you forgiven yourself for surviving?” I was jolted by her words.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Have you forgiven yourself for surviving the crash?” I remained naively silent. She flashed a loving smile. “I think that is where you need to begin if you wish to heal.” She waved. “Eddy, it is good you survived.” I made no response as I drove away. I could see her figure continually waving in the rear view mirror, a gentle smile upon her face. I took a deep breath and acknowledged a tinge of hope deep inside me.

  Sitting at the end of the Manhattan Beach Pier I struggled with the fear my recent behavior had revived. I was sure I would repeat the self-destructive scenario I barely evaded. If there was a loving deity wishing to extend a gentle hand it would not be by one miraculous action. I thought about the peace I embraced on Kauai. The island's beauty was awe-inspiring yet uncomplicated. I concluded that any path to a possible solution lie in total simplicity.

  Returning home my first order of business was to gather all the material acquired over the previous years regarding the crash. I sorted the various reports, photographs, newspaper and magazine articles. There was the report regarding the cockpit crews' disputes, government documents I had obtained through the Freedom of Information Act and of course, the CVR Recording. I carefully placed everything that could be a visual reminder of my incident in a large cardboard box, sealing it tightly. I placed the box in a closet. This material would remain available if needed but I was determined to eventually get to a point where that decision would rest with me and not the loathsome voices in my head. Next, I sat down and began to draft a daily schedule that would be beneficial physically and mentally; a routine based on simplicity.

  “Take care of yourself Eddy.” Rachel's voice resonated.

  “Take it day by day, or hour by hour, or even minute by minute if necessary. Do whatever it takes to evade the triggers that allow the anger and hatred to control you.”

  In the initial development of my plan there were long, dark nights where I would set the alarm on my airline wrist watch for a period no longer that ten minutes. I would struggle desperately with the urges, fending off the choler and desire for retribution. Suddenly, the sharp tones of the alarm would startle me back to reality. I would reset the watch once again for another ten minutes, resuming my resistance of torment. Many a night the struggle would only subside with the faint rays of the rising sun penetrating into my lonely bedroom.

  I remained dedicated to my classes at Loyola-Marymount. Knowledge always equates to freedom. The rest of the day was devoted to the upkeep of my physical health in the gym, on a bike, running on the soft sand at El Porto Beach or body surfing at Manhattan Beach. I embraced a healthy diet and dedicated myself to quality sleep when I could obtain it. The highlight of my simple life was my time with Cristiano. There were no longer trips to some exotic location. Quality time was reserved with my immediate family right at home. My young son would get to know his grandparents more intimately. Family functions were now placed high on my priority list.

  My petitions to this God, I believed, could only be presented with a heart filled with humility and the willingness to be patient. Above all, I completely steered clear of LAX.

  At the airport, in the Executive Offices of the airline, job security was on minds of most associates. There were those in the offices on Avion Drive who believed the installment of Al Greenleaf as the new CEO had “brought in non-management personnel to mismanage and weaken the airline step by step.” Even after Barry Lane rescued the company, there seemed to be certain individuals who had more selfish priorities concerning the future of the airline. Cannibalization in the industry had become rampant. There were certain activities ongoing in the offices at the marbled-floor Headquarters. Long time associates devoted to our airline were shown the door. The few that were left began to figure it out.

  I think Barry always believed his decisions would only delay the inevitable. A small number of airlines grew stronger while others were falling to the wayside. Perhaps his goal was to revive the company, get her healthy enough to attract a suitor, an institution that could ensure employment for the remaining employees. On a clear sunny day at LAX, suitors from a financially solid southern based airline came calling with hopes of courting and seducing our airline.

  “Why don't we just buy you and by combining our systems we will solidify a huge chunk of the industry?” I am sure the conversation in the executive offices was much more detailed but essentially, that was the bottom line. Al Greenleaf would remain to be the closer.

  “Consultants who weren't consultants, were brought in from the outside,” one former employee related. “They showed up previously in the management line-up of other failed airlines who were absorbed or went bankrupt.” Those associates lucky enough to remain in their positions saw the writing on the wall. Speaking up led to a quick termination.

  Our airline would be slowly assimilated into the greater entity. Our large red logo would cease to exist in the skies it had soared in for over sixty years. The culture and daily interaction for the remaining associates would be drastically changed. Some would spend years of “being perceived as an adopted child,” as one worker expressed. There was a locked promise of jobs for those in uniform. For the others, the outlook was not so bright.

  “It's more than a merger, it's an all star team.” The public relations machine went to work. Two of the former giants in the industry were combining to create a massive airline. The new masters wanted to put a positive spin on the marriage, tasteful to the eyes and ears of the flying public.

  “The best gets better,” was the message from the southern based company. An upbeat tune ensued. In reality, it was all just another form of survival. Many non-crew associates were offered positions with the new family in remote locations. Others would find themselves in lesser, lower paying positions, and others were shown the door.

  I myself was sitting in my living room when I viewed news of the merger for the first time on the TV. Surprisingly I was not shocked when I heard the news. I had enough conversations with Barry Lane to have picked up on hints he sent my way while drafting my contract with the company. I believe he graciously was giving me a forewarning. Then it suddenly hit me.

  “I'm not a part of that southern based company.” I sat up and my eyes widened. “I'm not a part of that airline.” A huge grin donned my face. “I have no allegiance to them.” A powerful chill shot through my body. “I don't owe them a thing.” My eyes began to fill with tears of j
oy. I had kept my vow of loyalty to my airline. I fell to my knees upon the wooden floor. I bowed my head and began to weep. I was free to speak my mind. I was free to speak the truth.

  With regard to my affiliation with the new company, I was once again in limbo. But I was not concerned for I had a rock solid contract. I knew they had to honor it. I would continue to receive my pay and benefits in exchange for services. What exactly those service were was extremely complicated and I was sure would raise the eyebrows of my new superiors when it was brought to their attention. I wasn't worried.

  “They'll have their hands full for quite some time.” I continued to receive tuition for my education. I was quite content to let things be. I prepared myself to play the game once again when someone in the new administration happened to find the contractual agreement. I could wait and would be prepared when that day arrived. For the first time I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. It was still some distance away but I saw it, which filled me with hope.

  I began to contemplate a plan to educate a viable party or institution regarding the facts in the demise of 2605. Throughout the years bits of information had slipped out in subtle ways. There were many in the airline who were aware of the “dispute” between Captain Herbert and First Officer Reimann. It would only be whispered in private offices or in the corner of a room. There were those who had their suspicions concerning the truthfulness of the Mexican official report. Yet it was never discussed openly for it was just too painful.

  Periodicals were also occasionally interested in hearing my story. A couple of noted journalists contacted me over a period of time wanting to discuss a possible publication. I was always curious to hear their approach and potential angle in documenting my experience, but most of the time, once their presentation was concluded, I would shy away. What I needed was a reputable organization that had the resources and ability to conduct an objective investigation of the entire matter. There were several news magazine television programs but I didn't know how to get their attention and have them take me seriously. The bottom line was that I was not currently the most stable individual walking about, and often individuals were made to look quite foolish when the media got involved.

  “I am now ready to speak on this matter.” I let the word out to individuals I knew had connections in the media. I believed any such collaboration would come in the future. The first obvious task was to deal with the airline. The difficulties in merging two giants of the industry were clear, and the new landlords had their hands filled with matters that were far more important than one former flight attendant. One breezy, cloudy day a telephone call came.

  “E-d-m-u-n-d-o?” a high pitched female voice with a southern twang inquired. In that very moment I knew exactly what kind of people I was dealing with and it gave me a new found confidence. “I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Carlton Cleburne. He'd like to meet with you.” A time and date were set for a meeting at the Avion Drive HQ.

  “Be smart, don't get foolish.” Being once again physically healthy I determined I owed the new overseers not a thing. Finding myself in a circumstance of strength for once gave me faith.

  Carlton Cleburne came into the waiting area of an office I had been in numerous times prior but now it was his office. The fair haired, short, bottom heavy man extended his hand.

  “Edmundo!” I focused on his eyes and he sized me up in an instant, more completely than an X-ray examination.

  “How in the hell did this little shit get such a plum deal from the airline?” He probably thought. He seemed genuinely interested in sitting down with me and getting as much information as possible, see where my weakness might lie.

  “You know, Edmundo, this airline would be proud to have you return to duty as a respected flight attendant. Mr. Mitchell has decided to join us. He will be returning to work soon.” The information about Skip caught me by surprise. I initially did not realize that Carlton was trying to find a simple way of discarding my contract. I fell deep in thought as the airline executive rambled on. Finally I spoke.

  “That's good about Skip,”

  “What?” He stopped and stared.

  “I'm happy for Skip. I wish him all the best, he deserves it.” I was being cordial. Carlton returned to his prepared oration. Soon it became quite evident that the airline executive was at a loss as how to resolve my situation.

  “By all accounts I understand you were a good flight attendant.” He was trying to seduce me. Certainly, the new masters would be delighted if the solution was as simple as me agreeing to return to the flight line. That would free them from any legalities related to seeing to my well-being.

  “Be careful what you ask for,” I blurted out. Carlton became puzzled. Sure, there would be no monetary settlement but such a decision might unleash a potential disaster, a walking time bomb aboard their newly repainted fleet of jet liners.

  “Welcome aboard, if there is anything we can do to make your flight more enjoyable, please don't hesitate to ask,” I thought as I envisioned Antimundo mocking the pleasantries. I was healing and my mind being much clear could foresee the dangers. The fork in the road before me became obvious. It was time for me to leave the industry but the manner in which I would exit had to be dealt with delicately. I promised Mr. Cleburne that I would deal with him in good faith, I believed that is what Barry Lane and Doctor Ramljak would have wanted me to do. But I was not going to trust him.

  I finally seemed to have some wits about me and prudently asked for an evaluation of my situation from David J. Brooks. The wise attorney determined that they most likely would want to settle obligations with me monetarily.

  “It's quick, it's pennies in a pocket to them and you're gone forever,” he stated. David mentioned the possibility of substantial financial gain if the negotiations with the airline were handled correctly. I had to plan my next move very carefully. One quiet afternoon I received a phone call.

  “Hello, Eduardo, this is Mazie, Cary Diller's mother.” I was taken aback at first. I had met the strong, wise woman on two separate occasions. My impression was she was facing all the obstacles to come her way in a dignified, gracious manner.

  “Yes, Mazie, how can I help you?”

  “Eduardo, I don't know if you were aware, but soon after the accident the company offered the parents of the crew-members that were lost, the privilege of obtaining one free travel pass a year.”

  “Yes. I had heard something of the sort. That was great of the company to do that.” I sparked a fond, loving memory of an institution that was now forever gone.

  “Well, we received a letter from the new airline and they are revoking this one little pleasure we look forward to each year.” The good woman became distraught. “This kind token was a way of reconnecting with Cary.” I could hear the sounds of soft sobs as the reality of how such a little thing could mean so much.

  “Did you get the initial promise of passes in writing?”

  “No.” I understood. In the culture of the old airline, most associates would have no fear in taking the company at their word. Why make waves when it was only a couple of tickets a year? “Who should we call in the new administration who could assist us?”

  “Mr. Carlton Cleburne,” I blurted out without thinking.

  Soon I returned to the corporate building on Avion Drive. It became apparent from the start of our conversation that the southern gentleman had done some research.

  “You know, Edmundo,” I did not bother to correct the executive. “Returning to the flight line as one of our respected flight attendants would ensure you job security.” Of course the learned Vice-President failed to mention that such a decision on my part would also be the most convenient solution for the corporate giant. His oration was condescending, diminishing the possibility of any other options on my part.

  “Who knows, Edmundo, perhaps being a flight attendant is just a starting point with the new company.” He seduced me with the possibility of climbing that corporate ladder if I played ball. My thoughts wandere
d. I recalled the first time I had entered this very building years before, filled with excitement and great anticipation. I had considered the prospects for a grand future back then. That office was just down the hallway. Now I was in their building, the one with a large new name painted on the sides of the various hangars.

  “I want no part of this.” I thought.

  “Hey, is it true you guys revoked the yearly single travel pass privileges of the parents of my deceased crew-members?” Carlton's piercing blue eyes shot right through me. His body language and facial features revealed anger. The cold stare of the fair skinned executive telegraphed his disapproval. “Is this the wrong time to bring up this matter?” Yes, I was sarcastic and as a result, abruptly shown the exit with no word of a future date or time to meet again.

  I marched down the hallway with a smirk on my face. I didn't care. It was obvious that I needed to place the task of my resolution in the hands of David J. Brooks. My focus needed to be on remaining mentally healthy through this process.

  For the first time since October 31, 1979 I was fully confident. I now could view a future on the horizon. I was free to discover the limitless possibilities of being granted a second chance. There, first and foremost, was a promise of joy to be found.

  It was now time to reestablish my relationship with the island of Kauai. On the Na Pali Coast I could find the serenity I needed. I sought the island refuge to remain passive, out of sight and to allow David to use his special skills to my benefit.

  I packed my gear and I drove to the employee parking structure the following day. On this particular morning I was surprised to find a stand-still of cars waiting to enter the multi-floor complex. As the slow-moving traffic brought me to the entrance I found a security guard with a clipboard checking each vehicle and occupant. I was not concerned at first. I had my airline I.D. Though it was from the former airline it still granted me entrance onto the company grounds. It would be some time before the new masters could complete the assimilation process and distribute new identification badges to those accepted into the greater collective.