After I retired from the Marshal Service and returned to corporate flying, I sweated blood for years about being ramp checked in southern California.
When I was with the Marshal Service I had a run in with an FAA chap in Long Beach. We were parked, 727, on our normal spot on the northwest part of the airport on the compass rose. So as the exchange was going on I was minding my own business standing next to the access road when this white G-car pulls up and parks.
This young guy gets out of the G-car, walks up to me and says, "Hi, I'm Harvey Haversack and I am going to ramp check you."
I looked at him and said, "Really, sorry but we are exempt from ramp checks, just as the military is. However, I'll answer any question you may have, but I cannot allow you access to the aircraft until we are finished with prisoner exchange."
Would you believe that this young guy took exception to what I said. I was shocked, just shocked that he didn't believe me. So from then on our little encounter went downhill from there.
He kept insisting that he had the authority to go on the aircraft and 'check our records', I of course denied his access. While we standing there auguring, the DICC (that would be Deputy In Charge, Cabin) walked up to see what was going on. Now at this point I would be in remiss if I don't point out that I am wearing a military style flight suit, on said flight suit were a Deputy US Marshal's badge, three other or four patches stuck on it that proclaimed for all to see that I belonged to the Department of Justice, including a little American flag on my right shoulder. Shoot, I figured that the little American flag should have convinced him.
Anyway, the DICC comes up and asks what is going on. Well, our new found FAA friend took exception to the DICC's question and told him, 'it was none of his business'
Wrong answer, the DICC didn't even bother to answer him, he just waved George over. Now George was a nice guy, really was, just a guard, but a rather big guard, like six foot five inches tall with muscles like bodybuilder, which come to think about it, he was. Sadly, for our new FAA friend, George lived to arrest someone, anyone. What makes this more interesting, is that this would be his first chance to arrest anyone. One could feel his anticipation.
The DICC told George to go get a set of restraints, handcuffs, leg irons and a waist chain to hook the handcuffs to, then come back and place our new FAA friend under arrest if he took one more step toward the aircraft.
Well unfortunately for George, by the time he came running back, our new FAA friend was leaving in his little G-car leaving a cloud of dust.
As luck would have it, one of the districts that we had to have their prisoners was running late. So as I am standing there, minding my own business, waiting for the late district another G-car comes driving up. Oops I think, where the hell is George.
This older guy gets out of the G-car, comes up and says, "I need to apologize for my colleague's behavior a little while ago..."
Now we had a nice talk, after the late district finally showed up, I asked this gentleman if he would care to come on board the aircraft, he replied along the line of, "Just how bad does it stink inside with all those prisoners?"
I replied, "Pretty bad." He wisely decided to pass.
So, like I said, I sweated blood every time I flew into Souther California after I retired from the Marshal Service.
