First Flight

 

The plane trip began in Tuscaloosa, and stopped in Jackson, before it finally reached Dallas. Later in life, taking this hopscotch flight was as aggravating as a floater in my eye. But not when I was 21 years old. Not when I was headed to my first big job interview - and my very first airplane ride.

I was meeting with the St.Regis Paper Company. Apparently, they liked my first interview at the University of Alabama, so I was invited to fly out and meet some of the muckety-mucks.

The operative word here is fly. Woo hoo!  I certainly was excited when I learned I would be flying to Dallas, although it was no big surprise - how else would I get there? I doubted they would put me on a Greyhound bus. And almost immediately, the college student in me saw another opportunity, one that was almost as important as finding employment.  Going to Texas would give me a chance to pick up some Coors beer.     

Many of you will recall that for years, Coors, aka Colorado Kool-Aid, was only available in the certain states. Because Coors was unpasteurized, it couldn’t be shipped on long distance trips without spoiling. And like anything you can’t have, everyone wanted it. This beer had achieved cult status in the east and south. Don’t believe me? Go watch Smokey And The Bandit. Now my interview trip was even more attractive because it was    also a beer run. 

I was only going to be gone for one night, but I carried the largest suitcase I could find. Certainly this would leave enough room for a few six packs. That would be no problem. Remember that flying back then was not at all like flying now.  First of all, Tuscaloosa was a small regional airport. Most of the time the loudspeaker would say, “Now boarding at gate one.”, because there was no gate two. Security was non existent. Anyone could almost  walk out on the runway.  There were no boarding ramps either - it reminded me of the final scene in American Graffiti, right down to the propeller engines. 

It didn’t matter to me. I eagerly got on that plane and buckled in. Window seat, of course. Soon the engines roared, and we ascended. 

What a fascinating, exciting thing it was. To watch objects get smaller as we rose higher. Rivers, trees, and buildings shrunk below me. Sometimes I would pick out a tiny car on a county road and wonder about the people inside. Where were they going?  Did they know I was watching them?  In what seemed like minutes, we landed in Jackson, Mississippi. Another half hour and were flying west again.  

This leg of the trip was nothing like the first one. As dusk fell upon the sky, we ran into a series of very powerful thunderstorms. Looking back now, I still count this flight as one of the worst ones I’ve ever had. The plane dipped and bobbed as it bravely fought thru the bad weather. Several times it would drop fifty to a hundred feet - eliciting a collective gasp from every passenger - but me. I’d never been on a plane. I thought this was normal. In fact, it seemed kind of fun - like an airborne roller coaster. Weeee!  If this had happened today, I would be gripping the armrests so tight that the vinyl would be tearing.  

The storms worsened as we neared Dallas. I thought I saw a lady on a bicycle flying beside us - or was it a monster on the airplane wing?  After a particularly bad bit of turbulence, the guy sitting beside me asked if I had accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior.  I began to understand why people hated to be airborne. 

We continued descending thru flashes of lightning and peals of thunder until the tires bounced hard on the runway. Never has wet concrete felt so good.  We were on terra firma.  

Without delay, I claimed my luggage/beer carrier, hailed a cab, and headed to the hotel.  After checking in, I made a quick stop at the lobby bar - I had to have my first taste of Colorado Kool Aid. That’s when I saw a corner table with our pilot, co pilot, and flight crew - all downing bourbon shots. Obviously, they were still recovering from the flight.

Everything else was cut and dried.  St. Regis liked me and wanted me to come to work for them, but they didn’t have any positions available in the south. So I was offered a job in somewhere like Albuquerque. I’ll let them know a few days later that I wasn’t prepared to leave this part of the country just yet.

And the flight back? It was uneventful and pleasant - smooth air, just a few passengers, and thanks to a quick stop on the way to the airport, a suitcase stocked full of Coors beer. 

The Bandit would’ve been proud.