Fate is the Hunter

[CoolHands]

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I flew with an 80+ old ex-NWA captain I met a couple years ago. He was typed in -4s, -6s, 580, and the 9. He'd just done about all one could. I had a drop-off in a 421C for the owner, and they let him ride along. I let him fly the dead-head leg (of course). From taxi to takeoff, 1 hour enroute, and landing, he wore that airplane. I barely had to say a thing. He made an elegant descent with minute power reductions, and greased the landing. I remarked on how well he handled the bird as we taxied in. He looked to me with a small tear in his eye. Said he hadn't flown since he retired. Gave me a chill, and made me feel like a hack at the same time.

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THAT is a great story!! Gives me a chill just reading it. On the original topic, I grew up idolizing Ernie Gann and the men that flew during that era. I have always enjoyed reading Gann's work and I always end up wishing I could have been born 70 years earlier just to have had the chance to fly with him.

 

[pilotyip]

Huck, I agree it is a classic movie and I will export a clip for our CRM class. However it was a DC-4, DC-4 carried 44 pax overwater.

 

[Rez O. Lewshun]

I told you guys not to sell ourselves short!!!!

Also, Rick Drury's "Flightlines" is excellent, with the same writing style as Gann's. Drury describes the mood from the cockpit of modern jetliners with excellent writing.

"Fundamental Things"

by Rick Drury



Even he had them, thoughts of what could have been, if only things had been different, but now it was beyond all that. This part of his story was about to end. Yes, even Bogart had mixed emotions as Ingrid shed a tear and then walked through the mist to the tune of old round engines as a studio orchestra played to our hearts. Of course, the 'usual suspects' would be rounded up, blamed for everything. They always are. Tomorrow would be another day, a new beginning. What is past is history and we move onward and forward, ideally with positive lessons learned. Wallowing in the mud of what could and should have been is not nutritious fare.

Sooner or later all stories end. And now it is my turn. It has come to this, an old movie fading to "THE END'. I am age sixty and am on my way off stage. So I am now frequently asked, would I like to change that age limit? Absolutely! I wish it were age fifty-five, or less. But that is a personal thing. To explain is to examine the current state of the industry - or 'demise' is perhaps a more apt epithet. It is to briefly express what I miss and why.

When I first joined the 'real' airlines in 1973, we all knew the fellow with the job title of "Chief Pilot'. He was not twenty or thirty years old, but more like fifty, maybe near retirement age. His office was full of aviation memorabilia, photos of the airplanes he had flown with the company - and that meant all of them - in every venue, in every bit of lousy weather from typhoons to the ice and snow of many winters, from props to jets. He had walked the walk over and again, so when he said something about what we did or how we ought to do it, his word carried the weight of not only authority but true line experience. He knew all the fundamentals, because his flight bag carried the scars of 20 years or more of flightdeck life. The stripes on his sleeve were even worn and fading, as the wearing away from thousands of hours doing the real job took the sheen off new gear. In a way, this was a badge of honor.

His office was a fun place to visit. That is if you loved airplanes, because they had been his life. There were models of the company airplanes, and he was an expert in all of them, wall and tables with all those great aviation photos, even some books and magazines on aviation, from history to current times. This place was something like a visit to your grandfather who had done it all, who now resided in some wonderful room of magic, and you were allowed to wander and enjoy. Unless it was your turn to receive his fury because you had done something stupid. Even then, you took it because you knew that he was right and this was not political or windows-dressing nonsense. In fact, he rejected being used in that way. He was real.

In this image, he also had merit above and beyond our respect. He could also let the CEO and his minions - plus the FAA - know when they were wrong, or that something they proposed was dumb, or that their demands were preposterous. He was in a position of honor, gained by years of line service covering every aspect of the flight operations of the company. He stood up for the troops and we knew it. When his type retired, another from the same mold would be there, an anchor in our aviation careers. But those guys are long gone. And I miss them.

The corporate replacement philosophy was simple. A seasoned veteran who speaks up was unacceptable. They wanted someone who would sell his soul for particular financial arrangements, a special retirement package, the opportunity to not fly except on little jaunts of their choosing on pleasant days to enjoyable places, for the illusion of power and prestige, and who would sing the political slant no matter how ludicrous or harmful or even dangerous. Their personal mantra was the invidious, "Up yours, I got mine'.

So the old offices were cleaned out and the new breed moved in. A breed that also perpetuated themselves. At one time, you could never be an instructor of any sort unless you had flown the line for many years as a captain and knew every nuance of life on the line. All that went by the wayside with the New Age. Knowing someone 'in the office', whilst having no line experience and never being a seasoned captain, was inexperience and ignorance to be rewarded. As the Samurai sword-maker says: "All the blades are hidden within the metal." Yes, and the character of the blade certainly depends upon the quality of that metal."

I miss a time when the words 'in-flight service' was not an oxymoron. We once had - and this is true - such people as 'Stewards' and 'Stewardesses'. Food was served on plates with real silverware. Stewards poured champagne or mixed drinks. Stewardesses were charming, bright, and helpful, catering to the passengers' every need and whim. And the food was superb. Passengers even wore decent clothes, actually dressed for the occasion, and were well-mannered and civil.

This is all fiction now. Top executives sold the idea that an airline seat could be had for $24.99 or some other asinine figure. Then seats should be miniaturized so that maximum income could be gained. All that would have to be done is take away the salary and benefits of the company employees, among other ominous schemes. The airport became the new bus station. Everyman should be able to fly. Now we all pay for it with shoddy service, little concern, and certainly no enthusiasm. Why have master craftsmen do something for five hundred dollars when you can get a cheap imitation for $2.95?

And, naturally I miss the time when the professional airline pilot was respected, when he was not the target of the jealous and petty, or of some agency which needs to show a list of how many people have been inspected - and pilots are easy targets. Those of us who love flight and fought to fly have seen the profession deliberately disparaged to the point where we are to be collectively humiliated before the passengers with near strip searches, unable to speak up for fear of job loss, questioned, belittled, probed, drug-tested, and finally blamed for every company problem including top corporate ill-conceived tactics. We have become the popular scapegoat. And now it is not only the wages to be ravaged but retirement that was bargained for and promised. It may soon be common to have worked in the profession for 30 years and come away with absolutely nothing. That is, for the employees. It will be determined to be 'legal', which has nothing to do with the reality of honor. At least I am departing at a time when only one-half of my retirement has been confiscated. So far.

Even as I go, with unimaginable negativity, discord, and turmoil in abundance within the airline industry, the usual suspects are being rounded up. We are all being asked to do far more for far less while the lords and masters reap the personal fortunes of kings, taking absolutely no personal responsibility or accountability for their business decisions. Stealing the 30-year pensions of dedicated professional employees is considered the coup de jour. After all, how can that $30 million personal ski mansion be built, or the executive jet be flown, or the personal box at Monte Carlo for the Formula One Grand Prix be maintained, if that money is not confiscated?

We have clearly seen how these members of 'royalty' have placed themselves above and beyond the rules of sane, civilized behavior with exceptional arrangements to exclude themselves from any possible corporate downfall. Now, putting 20,000 people out of work brings forth a personal $20 million bonus. Fundamentals of dealing with human beings, basics known as ethics and honor and integrity, no longer have any meaning in this corporate world. The concepts are to be ignored at all costs. As I walk out of the door, making my exit from this morass, a huge burden is lifted from my shoulders. In general, morale and spirit are dead issues. The robber barons are fully exonerated for their crimes, while the public has been conditioned to feel that all people should be equal in misery - so the honorable profession of aviator is continually denigrated. Its stature and glory are now long gone, and as a Japanese friend remarked on the Japan of now versus what he knew as a young man, "It is as though the country has lost its soul." Indeed, this industry has suffered that very fate.

(cont....)








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[BoilerUP]

I read Flying the Line Vol. 2, Hard Landing, Fate is the Hunter and North Star over my Shoulder within 8 weeks. Each book should be required reading for anybody who wants a flying career, especially young people like myself.

Gann's concept of fate and "the numbers" is very striking, and quite chilling to read. Especially in contrast to Bob Buck's career...

"What happens if we lose power and have to ditch?"
"Put your faith in God and Pratt & Whitney."

 

[Rez O. Lewshun]

Cont....

I have experienced great years of flying the big jets around the world. Sunrises and sunsets over the Pacific will play in my mind's theater forever. As best as could be done in the fleet of wide-body jetliners, I have played out my story of joy in the sky. Co-pilots have said, "Best trip I've had," and students not only learned the consequential things but enjoyed themselves in the process. Friends made in cities all around the globe will always be with me. I was there when it was not merely a profession but a celebration of flight, performed with quality and excellence, and with a good measure of fun. Now it is time to go and I am delighted that I can. Sure, there is a measure of sadness, but it is akin to grief over someone who has passed away. They are gone and we will miss them. But they are not coming back. We will keep the memories of the best, as they were, whilst realizing that we must carry on with our lives.

 

[bafanguy]

Rez O.,

Thanks for posting that. Talk about a guy hittin' the nail on the head !! What's so important about Gann and the guy who wrote this excerpt is that they're able to say what those of us from various generations of pilots know and have experienced but aren't articulate enough to put on paper.

It's nice to know other people see what you see...and it's not your imagination.

 

[Donsa320]

Two summers ago I got introduced to an NWA retiree at an airport campout party. This retiree was named Chuck Severson.

Anyway, me and him sat up untill the sun rose...trading story for story, drink for drink. It was pretty cool.

Imagine taking off out of GRB with a DC-3 headed for Chicago and having to shoot an ILS at MKE just to shed enough ice so you could do a go around and get the plane into ORD. You can't...but I can. Every story he had about weather and icing, totally related to what I see on a regular basis flying a barn door in 135 flying.

I've never read any of Gan's work, but I'm thinking big fat wing, slow ass airplane, not much ATC radar help and those big stupid round engines...yea, you're going to have stories to tell.

Jet pilots almost have to get kidnapped or get a dui in airliner in order to have a new story to tell...

Really, what is jet pilot going to tell you for a story..."there I was, diverting for kxyz because a thunderstorm was next to kabc, when all the sudden I heard kabc approach vector 20 freight dogs for an approach..."

Thread Hyjack coming...sorry.

FN; where did you meet Chuck? He was junior to me on the line. Did he tell you the tale about the Convair 340 training flight at MDW and the severe engine fire. They blew a jug and it took the prop feathering oil line with it. Every time they hit the feather button the fire got bigger. They got on OK and the Fire Dept. put the fire out and saved the airplane too. I think Chuck was a trainee on the flight.

~DC

 

[michael707767]

Any pilot who could survive an entire career during aviation's golden era is a hero in my book. Have you not yet figured out this far into the book that flying during that period was a harrowing experience?? Spend a day at work sometime soon with the radar off, autopilot off, anti-ice off, TCAS off, VOR/ILS/GPS/LNAV off (okay, you can still use the ADF), and no radar vectors from ATC.....and let us know how fun that was.

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Sounds great to me. Give me that kind of flying vs what I do today anytime!!

 

[Publishers]

This brings back memories of the old Holiday Inn at MIA where they had a sky bar. We would sit, drink, and bet how many working engines would be on the next Super Connie or DC 6 coming from South America.

It has been my pleasure to meet people like Paul Tibbitts, Chuck Yaeger, Bill Lear Jr., and Bob Hoover. To share a drink and hear their memories has been something that makes ones day.

While that has been wonderful, how much greater to have that approach to minimums in drving rain, to hear the drops impacting the windscreen, the thunder over the engine noise, and, to say, " this one looks tough sir, it's your airplane." To see their calm, to watch them caress the controls, go with the turbulance, and see that smile once more as the wheels squeak.

 

[Huck]

This brings back memories of the old Holiday Inn at MIA where they had a sky bar. We would sit, drink, and bet how many working engines would be on the next Super Connie or DC 6 coming from South America.

Now THAT's funny. Thanks.

A friend of mine got his start in "Corrosion Corner" in the 70's. He told me another good one: some operator sent a plane down to Bogota from MIA and didn't file the appropriate paperwork, so the crew got arrested. The plane was scheduled to sit for 5 days, so the operator got them bailed out on the 4th day, to save on the hotel rooms.