Episode Ten: My One Year Anniversary

May 11th marked my official one year anniversary with my company. I'm no longer a new hire! I cannot believe how fast this year has flown by [you get it ;)]. It has been a very busy year filled with new opportunities and adventures, and the flight attendant lifestyle is still enjoyable and fun as my first day on board. I've since added my one-year anniversary pin to my crew lanyard proudly displayed next to my first pin I received during my training class.

During the summer months, my airline operates a seasonal base in South Carolina. Instead of hiring new flight attendants and pilots to service this base, the company allows current crew members to bid for the opportunity to temporarily move to the summer base. Normally, these opportunities are presented to crew members at our larger bases in Orlando, Tampa, and Las Vegas. However, there were three spots open for Fort Lauderdale based flight attendants to be based in South Carolina for two months. I was debating whether or not I should bid for this event. I had heard good things about the summer base from those who worked there last year, so I submitted my request to see if I had the chance of receiving the assignment. I am number 24 out of 40 at my base, so I knew that my chances were somewhat slim since there were only three open spaces with 23 other flight attendants above me. However, I received the assignment and was scheduled to be in South Carolina for June and July.

Almost a month has gone by and I am enjoying my time in SC. The airline put us up in nice condos on a golf course only about a mile and a half from the beach. I'm at the bottom of the seniority list during this assignment, so I hold a pure reserve (on-call) line for June and July. I don't mind being on reserve; it's actually a nice change of pace from having a working line. I've been called about six or seven times this month and I picked up two trips on my off days. Most of my time is spent at the pool, beach, and driving range, with the occasional putt-putt golf trip in between. There are putt-putt courses on every corner in this city, and not just small ones, but gargantuan pirate and jungle themed ones.

I've had to get use to flying on the MD-80s once again. I haven't flown on them (save for the occasional rescue flight) since August when I was based in Orlando; our Fort Lauderdale base operates purely Airbus A320 equipment. The MD-80 (lovingly referred to as the Mad Dog) is a tank of an aircraft, which is one of the reasons why I love flying on it. It almost sails effortlessly through the sky like a dream and is a smoother ride during turbulence. It is a cozier fit in the cabin than on the A320 and I've had to revert back to saying "excuse the cart, watch your elbows and knees" when doing inflight service. I think I have only hit three people by accident with the cart and/or my own elbows or legs--so far, so good. The other downfall to my love for the MD-80 is how hot it can get on board when sitting on the tarmac or at the gate during boarding and deplaning. The ground air and APU can only do so much when there are 166 humans on board and the entry door is still open. The safety information card becomes your best friend during this time. Not only does it show you valuable safety procedures but it makes for a great handy fanning device. If you are flying either the number 2 or 4 position on the aircraft, which I normally wind up doing, the card also keeps you from getting dripped on by the air conditioning when seated in the aft jumpseat in the tailcone. An umbrella and a fan--we should market it on HSN or QVC.

My love for the Mad Dog still holds true even with its quirks and mood swings. One of the MD-80s stationed here is slated for retirement at the end of the summer operation in September. It will be flown out to the desert and scrapped for parts, ending a long 27 year lifespan with over 50,000 flights. My company is beginning to retire the MD-80s at a faster pace and replacing them with newer A320s and A319s--by 2020 all our MD-80s will be retired.

I will be happy to return to Fort Lauderdale at the end of July. I have missed my family and fellow crew members, but I am very grateful for the opportunity to be stationed in South Carolina where I have met new colleagues from different bases and reconnected with those from Orlando. Besides, who isn't jealous of this being their playground:

 

Episode Nine: We Are Marshall

Tri-State Airport in Huntington, West Virginia is small. It isn't the smallest airport I've flown to, so perhaps the word "quaint" is the best way to describe it. Only my airline and American Eagle serve this airport and the thousands of people located within an hour's driving distance from the field.

The last time I was at Tri-State Airport was July 4th of last year, and instead of being on the ground for a short 40 minute turnaround, the crew and passengers were stuck there for seven hours as our aircraft suffered a mechanical problem. The gate agents and ground staff were exceedingly courteous and welcoming--they lent us flight attendants a car so we could grab food at one of the area's finest eateries. We found a Taco Bell about ten minutes from the airport, and this was the fanciest Taco Bell I have ever seen. It had a waterfall adjacent to the drive-thru lane and a covered terrace dotted with plants and bushes where patrons could dine on Chalupas al fresco.

On the way to the restaurant and back to the airport, we drove up and down steep hills and curved roads. The flying public normally tends to think of airports being either near a large metropolis or at least founded on a smooth, flat surface. For the majority of airports, this is true. Tri-State Airport has the opposite layout; the ends of the main runway are marked by steep drops and the reduced runway length leads for little margin of error. During our extended delayed sit at the airport, we talked with the ground staff and airport operations team while simultaneously playing a game of cornhole near the baggage offload area on the apron. By the time we were ready to depart, it was night. Rain began to fall and fog began to roll in. I heard one of the ground staff remark: "this reminds me of Marshall."

On the night of November 14, 1970, Southern Airways Flight 932 crashed into a hill short of the runway at Tri-State Airport in adverse weather conditions. The chartered DC-9 was carrying the Marshall University football team, along with coaches and other supporters. All 71 passengers, including the two pilots and two flight attendants, perished in the accident. Almost 46 years later, the tragedy still is fresh in the minds of those who remember it most--foremost on the minds of those who tried to help at the accident site. The ground agent explained that everyone in Huntington can remember what they were doing and where they were when the accident happened, almost like us asking each other where we were when the Towers were hit.

I worked a recent flight to Huntington just this past week. Before we began our initial descent, the captain informed us that there were heavy storms over and near the field. We had one chance to land, and if we had to abort the landing, we would have to divert to Lexington to get more fuel. He didn't seem too optimistic as he explained this over the PA to the passengers, but everyone understood. I took my jumpseat prior to landing as we weaved around dark clouds.  It was a bumpy approach, and looking out of the forward entry door window I could only catch glimpses of land before the rain and fog covered it again. I thought to myself how the weather reminded me of the gate agent's account of the Marshall accident. As we were descending lower and lower, I felt that we would not be able to land. The conditions didn't seem to be improving and the rain was falling harder. I began reviewing my evacuation commands and procedures in my head and got into my brace position. The wheels hit the runway and we began decelerating. Relieved passengers started applauding as we taxied towards the terminal.

As the passengers deplaned, many of them popped their heads into the flight deck to thank the captain and first officer for a safe landing. One couple was left on the aircraft--the gentleman was waiting for the wheelchair to arrive while his wife stood next to him near the entry door. By that time, the captain had joined us flight attendants in the forward galley. The woman came nearer and shook the captain's hand to thank him for the landing.

"While we were landing," she said, "I couldn't help but think of Marshall. It was raining like this that night." She asked if any of us had heard of the accident, and I nodded my head.

"My husband," she said while motioning to the gentleman seated at the bulkhead, "was one of the first responders. He was the chief of police in Huntington, and he tried to save people. We all remember that night."

When the wheelchair arrived, I went over to the man and helped him up. I held out my hand and thanked him for his efforts to help at the accident site.

"I still remember it like it was yesterday," he replied. "Thank you for getting us here safely."

We had a two hour sit in Huntington as we waited for the Orlando inbound plane to arrive to swap aircraft. While eating in the airport restaurant, the storm passed by as quickly as it came, and the sun began to shine.

There are many plaques and memorials honoring the Marshall team and those lost in the accident throughout Huntington. It is their sadness, but also the time when communities came together to help each other ease the pain and grief. Tri-State Airport is quaint, but it has a momentous place in sport, state, and aviation history.

Here's a portrayal of the accident scene from the 2006 movie "We Are Marshall." It isn't the best quality but incredibly emotional: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2seTQpI8_-k.