AIRLINE -DRIVER JUMP-SEAT ADVENTURES, CHRONICLE 1

                                                         "AFTERNOON, LADIES" !!!





          I was a DC-3 copilot, based at Willow Run Airport in Ypsilanti. Mi.

          It was winter 1992 and heavy snowstorms were covering the whole Eastern coast of the United States. We had just landed, back from 5 days flying all over the country, including stops in Canada, battling ferocious winds aloft and slippery fields to deliver overnight packages for Fedex and UPS and car parts for the likes of Ford, GM and other manufacturers.

         Afterwards, sitting around in the pilots rest area and shooting the shit while sipping the crappy coffee with our chief pilot, he surprised me with an offer to take 4 days off while our bird, N 302-SF, went in for maintenance.

          Like a hungry lion, I jumped at the chance, deciding right there on the spot to jump-seat to JFK that very evening. It would be a short, very short, visit to my wife and son I had not seen in over a year.

          During the 4 years since in the States building hours as a commercial pilot, I had been  home maybe an equivalent of two months. To say we lived a sacrificial existence was to say the least.

          And for me, this wasn´t quite as simple as driving across the state of Michigan or even flying across the country; my family lived in Ibiza, Spain, across the Atlantic, thousands of miles away.

          But hell, I was young. I packed a small kit and got on a Delta flight out of Detroit Metro to Dayton, Ohio where I hoped to jump-seat on the first flight to JFK.

          Killing time in Daytona while waiting to board the Pan Am flight, I sat talking with one of their 727 first officers, also jumping to New York. We got so involved in the conversation we both missed the boarding call over the airports P.A. system.

          I suddenly noticed the empty waiting hall. We ran over to the boarding gate and barely made it on board. My heart was thumping the whole time. Damn ! That was close!

          It was November and heavy snow was falling as we landed at JFK. I knew I only had about twenty minutes to make my way through the confusing maze of terminals and reach Pan Am´s flight dispatch office, locate the crew flying to Madrid and explain my ordeal, and pray for their sympathy.

          Short of breath and stressed-out, I reached flight ops and asked for the captain of the flight.
-They´ve already gone to the plane, son.- the elderly dispatcher told me. - They´re at gate 141.- I grabbed my bag and ran for the gate, trembling with fear I might not find it on time.

          I ran through the hallways, up and down, left then right, back-tracking when I took a wrong turn. The clock was ticking. If I missed the flight to Madrid, then I might as well turn around and head back to YIP. Finally, I saw the gate. Boarding had not yet began.

          Flashing my company I.D. the gate agent politely gave me access to the Madrid-bound 747. I climbed the stairway to the upper deck and went forward to the cockpit.

          The crew were briefing the flight. I noticed a fourth person beside the two pilots and flight engineer. I waited for a lull and the captain looked behind at me. - Hey fella,- He greeted me, and continued,- If you´re looking for a jump-seat, sorry, but this is a line check. No jump-seaters,- he sentenced. My heart sank.

          - But the guy next to us in going to London. Maybe try him.!- he suggested. He got on the company frequency and got the other captains attention.  -Hey Steve, got a pilot over here, needs to get over to Europe. Can I send him over?- He asked. A minute passed. -Get your butt over there, he said it´s ok.-

          He wished me luck as I thanked him. I practically ran back down the stairs out of the plane and over to the identical B 747 next to us destined for London Heathrow. I was so stressed I could hardly speak. All I could think of was getting home. My nerves were practically shot. The thought of having to go back to YIP was devastating.

          I reached the cockpit door and saw the crewmembers briefing the flight. Steve, the captain, was an old geezer with white hair and fragile body. The three men were huddled in deep conversation and I had to force myself to keep my mouth shut until they finished. The tension was overwhelming. If they turned me down, I´d have to go back to Michigan. A major blow. No, please no !
       
          It all came down to the Captain accepting me. I flew for a Part 135 airline, not 121 like the majors, and he could easily turn me down. We had no reciprocating jump-seat arrangements to speak of. In fact, he´d probably never even heard of Kitty Hawk Air Cargo.

          There was a moment of silence.  It was now or never. I´d been rehearsing my speech since leaving Metro but I forgot it entirely. I felt instant panic when I opened with the following words:

          - AFTERNOON LADIES,- I blurted. Shit. My heart fell to my feet.

        There was a weird silence while they looked at one another in major surprise. Oh God, could I have screwed it up in a worse way ? I´d surely get my butt kicked off the plane. I was dreading what would happen next. Ladies ?  Shit, shit, shit !I was red with embarrasment.

          But suddenly, and to my utter surprise, they broke out in hysterical laughter. I stood leaning against the cockpit entry feeling like a total ass. The captain got out of his seat and came up to me. - Hey kid, relax,- he said, -  Man, what a great line ! Get comfortable, you look like you need a rest! Want a coffee or something ?

          What ? I could hardly believe my luck!  I exhaled a breath of relief.  I was going to make it to London! It took me a long while to get over it.

          Getting from Heathrow to Barcelona was my next problem.  But I was on my way. I could have kissed the guy !