Mama Mia, Now that's an Airline!

Just when you thought you saw it all, in the form of the Delta-Northwest airline merger, news today that shareholders approved the merger of Continental and United Airlines.  The airline will be known as United, flying in the livery of Continental, thus making the world's largest airline.

Now of course this needs to get approved by US trade regulators, but when it does, (who are we kidding, nobody's going to block this) we're going to have 3 major airlines;

Delta
American
and United.

Ok, MAYBE you can add US Airways to that list since they are technically national since they merged with America West back in 2005.

Take a trip with me won't you? Down memory lane, or, in this case, down memory taxiway Bravo. Let's go all the way back to....are you ready?....the 1980's!  Ronald Reagan, BMW's, Sushi, neon colored Izod popped collared shirts, fired PATCO air traffic controllers, and Frank Lorenzo!  Who? Huh?

Let me explain....

Back then, how many airlines were there?  Oh let's rattle off a few of them that are no longer with us today;

Air Florida
Brannif
Eastern
Florida Express
Ozark
PanAm
Pacific Southwest Airlines (PSA)
People's Express
Provincetown Boston Airlines
Republic Airlines
TWA

and those are just a few off the top of my head!

Further more, I've actually been a passenger on more than a few of these airlines.  I remember flying Piedmont through Raleigh-Durham on my way to Fort Dix for Basic Training, flying People Express back home from Basic, and flying a DC-3 (yea I know how cool right? at the time a 50 year old, prop driven, tail dragging airliner) to Key West that was from PBA and was based out of Miami for the winter months.

When I worked at the airport, I got to drive the big old tractor tugs from Aircraft Services International to push back from the gate a PanAmerican Airlines 747, and I think I broke two tow bars trying to push back a TWA 727 late one night.

Finally, I got to see those really old guys in their shorts, black socks, and steel toed boots wearing their Eastern Airlines uniform shirts sitting on chairs around the carousel where the baggage came down from the gates at the main terminal making 17 bucks an hour (big money to me in 1987) to lift one bag seemingly every 20 minutes.  (How's that for nearly a run on sentence?)

I remember being insanely jealous of them, and at times I aspired to get a job like them, but then I realized a few things.  These were grown men, in their 50's and 60's, who had probably worked for Eastern all of their lives.  They had probably cut their teeth throwing luggage into the bellies of Lockheed Electras, DC-7's, DC-8's and 707's in the snow at JFK, DTW, ORD, BOS, PHL, and other cold weather big cities and through their seniority, bid to work for those coveted open positions in places like MIA, MCO, TPA and RSW so they could run out the clock and retire with a nice pension, and fly for free for life.

The one thing I remember the most, is man.....did these guys hate a guy by the name of Frank Lorenzo.

Not to get into to much detail about it, after all that's what Wikipedia is for, but suffice to say, Frank Lorenzo, CEO of Continental Airlines, had bought Eastern Airlines through the parent company of Continental, Texas Air, and was systematically moving Eastern assets and equipment from the Unionized Eastern, to the non Union Continental.  That caused all these old guys to have conniptions, and they would strike in heartbeat to protect what they had earned through previous strikes, after all, it worked before right?

Well, long story short, Lorenzo didn't play ball, and on the day the airline went on strike I watched as one by one, 727s, A300's, and 757's piled up at the Eastern Airlines gates, because not only were the pilot's walking away after shutting down the aircraft, but there was nobody at the gate to run the jetway, there were no mechanics or baggage handlers to push the aircraft away from the gate to make room for the other flights that were arriving and being abandoned right there on the ramp.

At the end of the day, of the 3 gates that Eastern had at Airside 1 of Terminal A at Orlando International Airport were 5 aircraft for every one of those gates, so a total of 15 (maybe more) airlines sat idle like the giant toys of a kid with a very short attention span had just walked off and left them all askew on the tarmac.  I remember the sunset that day was a brilliant blood red color, and the reflections off of the brushed aluminum skin of those Eastern Airliners as they sat not knowing what was going to happen next, well, it was a sight I'll never forget.  The airline that was started by WWI Ace Captain Eddie Rickenbacker, an airline who had an Astronaut who had been to the moon in Frank Borman, was alas no more.

So, fast forward to today, and Continental Airlines, the company that Frank Lorenzo had completely eviscerated and made new again, survives in the name of United Airlines.  All the others, they're part of the history books now, never to return.  Hey let's face it, there is a lot already gone about the airline industry, the days of rubber chicken Airline food, smoking in the cabin, sky high airfares, and the not so uncommon plane crash or two.  But of course gone too are the flight attendants in mini skirts, people that dressed up to fly even in coach, and hell even free peanuts, but I think the most important thing that's gone is the sense of ourselves.  We're headed to a nation that only has one car manufacturer, let's hope we don't get to that point with the airlines, otherwise collecting Jr. Pilot Wings is going to get pretty boring.

More proof, the Red Baron flies again

Remember these photos?

If you are a reader of my Flagship blog, "AROD138 in Beautiful West Chester, PA" then you know I posted these photos more as proof of what actual hand made Halloween costumes used to look like, as well as an opportunity to praise my mom's handiwork and embarrass myself further by perpetuating the "Nerd" narrative that is a recurring theme in my writings.

Now it seems to me, as I would assume that it would seem to anybody looking at these photos without knowing me, that one would surmise that whomever is in these photos, because of their obvious, early love of flying went on to have a fabulous career in Aviation.

Well, KIND of....

If these photos were taken in 1973, then check this photo taken only 15 years later.

Now is that a costume or what?  I went from cowboy boots, jeans, a cardigan sweater and a paper bag flying helmet, wrapped in a paper mache and chicken wire Fokker DR.1 to a Nomex Flight Suit, Survival Vest and SPH-4 Helicopter flight helmet standing next to a Beechcraft RU-21A Ute. 

As embarrassing as it is to admit this, I have to tell you that I used to take all my ALSE (Aviation Life Support Equipment) home with me instead of putting it in my locker back at the unit so I could just look at all the cool stuff I had, and of course show my little brothers.  That used to drive the ALSE technicians crazy when they tried to keep things up to date with my survival gear and couldn't because I'm playing dress up at home.

And hey, that wasn't all, when I get around to it, I'll scan the photos I have of when I used to work for ComAir, Delta's commuter airline, marshaling Embraer EMB-110 Banderantes, or "Bandits" around the ramp, throwing luggage in the back of them, driving little tractors, and various other cool stuff I used to do back in the day.  

The point of this whole thing is though, my brush with Aviation as a career was short lived in the grand scheme of things.  I flew as an Aircrewman for 10 years, I earned the Senior Army Aircrew Wings in that amount of time, but I only worked at the airport for about 4 years.  With the exception of getting the bulk of my private pilot's license flying out of the way in Denver Colorado almost TEN YEARS AGO since my first SOLO, I haven't had the where with all to finally knock it out and take the check ride.  It's ALWAYS something right?

Well, the point of this blog is not to seek pity, nor beat myself up over it, but perhaps help me refocus what's important to me, and perhaps exploit my passions in such a way that maybe I can accomplish something like getting my pilot's license, and then do some volunteer work with it too.  Hell, my late Uncle Galaor Carbonell was an Artist, a Professor of Art, an Art Critic and a published author of books on Art so who knows, maybe I'll write a book!

As I pick up readers and well wishers, I hope they'll cheer me on and remind me of the obvious rewards in getting it done.  Who knows, maybe one day, cross your fingers, you'll see me flying one of these...

The Beginning

Here it is, proof positive that I was destined to be saddled with the burden of this obsession of mine.  That's me on the right, (don't ask me why I had a tie) and my brother Ralph on the left, with a replica version of the Spirit of Saint Louis in San Diego, 1972.  That puts me at about 5 years old or so.  I'm sure exist somewhere evidence of even earlier exposure to Airframes and Power plants, and if I stumble across them one day I'll post them.  My earliest memories are of going to Lindbergh Field in San Diego, and sitting on the hood of my Dad's car and watching airplanes land.....Hold up now, wait, wait, wait.

Now instead of going on and on about my aviation pedigree, about how much I LOVE airplanes, and all the models I built as a kid and all the books I could get my hands on, I'll skip that assuming that you'll take my word for it.  The truth is, and I don't have statistics on it exactly, but I'm going to venture a guess and say that my story is not very remarkable or very different from the stories of 100's of 1000's of men and women who share my disease.

The question becomes, what can I do about it?  Is there a cure?  Should I learn just to live with it?

It's hard to say.  I think a lot of what this blog will be about will be about the journey of finding out what can be done.  I'm already 43 years old, and I'm not sure what lies ahead, and what opportunities life will present, but you can bet for sure that this nagging thing, this question of "FLIGHT", will be addressed to varying degrees.  One day I might blog about flying stories past.  Another might be about a recent trip to see those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines, and another might be of the day I finally take my Check Ride, get my FAA certification, and become a Private Pilot. 

Oh the journey won't be over then I'm sure, they'll  be plenty of flying stories to tell, catharsis's to be had, demons put to rest, fears conquered, pretty girls and children to impress.

I'll let you know how it goes....

Andy