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Bolo,
You keep talking about not throwing your junior guys under the bus but the F9 group voted NOT to pay the medical for your very own furloughed guys!
When you had the chance to take care of your own you didn't. It took a donation fund to get anything done!
Gup
Observations and thoughts from a former F9er who was furloughed
That among a myriad of other things. Some from the furlough group tried to get FAPA to at least change our contract language during the Temp agreement to read that we (furloughed F9) pilots retain longevity for pay during furlough (which we did not have under the contract). No way in hell did they even attempt it......we were given the line that they would have to give up other things to make that happen. So, not only did FAPA/Pilot group not help out for all furloughees medical costs, they fuked up the first year payscale to get a defined contribution plan, they screwed up the SWA opportunity by valiently trying to protect their "precious" DEN domicile and cush schedules, allowed VOUNTARY LOA pilots to come back EARLY before furloughed pilots were called back (WTF?), and the pilot group as a whole picked up open time with with "brothers and sisters" out on furlough. Then, once pilots returned from furlough, some were assigned DEN over MKE out of seniority and through back room deals. Allowed, or ignored, by FAPA.
I for one, not speaking for anyone else at F9, feel that FAPA has only taken the senior captain side view at every opportunity. At every opportunity the junior FOs and furloughees have been thrown under the bus.....without a second thought.
Go ahead and defend FAPA all you want....they have done some good things, but I dont trust them to make a sound decision based upon the good of the whole group.
You know what we are about and you know our culture. Overall we have a great pilot group with a few sour apples. No airline is perfect. I agree with you that we all try to defend our house if it is legit.
I would not have been opposed to WN. The problem was the the time line and how fast everything needed to be done. Less than one week to decide the fate of an entire airline was too fast.
Observations and thoughts from a former F9er who was furloughed
That among a myriad of other things. Some from the furlough group tried to get FAPA to at least change our contract language during the Temp agreement to read that we (furloughed F9) pilots retain longevity for pay during furlough (which we did not have under the contract). No way in hell did they even attempt it......we were given the line that they would have to give up other things to make that happen. So, not only did FAPA/Pilot group not help out for all furloughees medical costs, they fuked up the first year payscale to get a defined contribution plan, they screwed up the SWA opportunity by valiently trying to protect their "precious" DEN domicile and cush schedules, allowed VOUNTARY LOA pilots to come back EARLY before furloughed pilots were called back (WTF?), and the pilot group as a whole picked up open time with with "brothers and sisters" out on furlough. Then, once pilots returned from furlough, some were assigned DEN over MKE out of seniority and through back room deals. Allowed, or ignored, by FAPA.
I for one, not speaking for anyone else at F9, feel that FAPA has only taken the senior captain side view at every opportunity. At every opportunity the junior FOs and furloughees have been thrown under the bus.....without a second thought.
Go ahead and defend FAPA all you want....they have done some good things, but I dont trust them to make a sound decision based upon the good of the whole group.
Prior to April, 2008 Frontier was an amazing place to work. When you met someone and said you worked at Frontier, the near universal response was "I love Frontier." Not like, but love. I was taken aback, having been raised in a legacy family and having worked for a craptastic regional, that never happened. You might hear a story about how that legacy smashed their luggage, or marooned grandma, but never that they "loved" the airline in question.
This warm niche in the Denver market meant that employees were actually proud to wear stuff from the company store, to put a "Whole Different Animal" license plate frame on the hoopty, etc. An employee could, in good conscience, ask or suggest that a friend fly Frontier because we knew they would be treated well and would get to their destination in a timely fashion. All this was possible because of the fantastic operation we ran, and and the general surfeit of surly employees.
There was usually an operational spare, so a flight cancellation seemed less likely than Haley's comet crusing past. With minimal operational problems, the agents were actually and usually nice. Ongoing hiring kept the FA ranks fresh, and diluted the bitter cat-herder ranks. In house maintenance, from adding oil to C-checks, meant there was alot of pride invested in every machine. An aircraft would come out of a heavy check not only working, but darn near glimmering, inside and out. Mechs took so much ownership of these birds that one guy threw a chock into a running engine to prevent its unairworthy (in his mind) departure. Overboard, yes, but in a world where nobody cares, clearly he cared. The wheelchair pushers (also in house, English-speaking Frontier employees compared to the off-the-boat Somalis from the contract vendor) probably made a pittance, but one day I overheard a pair of them engaged in a deep, financially literate discussion of FRNT stock's peformance over the last year. My jaw dropped. The organization was still small enough that you kinda knew most folks. Captain's hugging station managers was curiously common.
The pilot group was full of folks that really wanted to work here. The miscreants had largely been weeded out after a few purges, and those that remained made an FO's life peachy. We liked each other and liked coming to work. When some new guidance regarding fuel management came down, adoption was near instantaneous and universal. The implementation of these fuel saving suggestions was optional on any given leg, so imagine my surprise at the lockstep compliance of these 700 guys. All pilots and pilot groups take pride in their work. This group really stretched day in and day out to save a few pennies, to retain a few customers, and to keep other workgroups smiling. The Frontier/FAPA relationship was amicable, but not conspiritorial. The contracts kept making progress, yet negotiatations never had to go the brink. When a scheduling pratice was found to be fatiguing it just got fixed. Though ridiculous, a pilot organized that "Save the Animals" rally downtown that garnered lots of free publicity. When FAPA printed a clever historical knockoff "Fly Frontier" sticker, they had to commission a second run to keep up with demand. Rampers were putting them on tugs, managers were putting them on their cars, heck, I've seen that sticker on the GSE of other airlines! When a sticker with the FAPA logo in the corner is applied to scores of cars in the corporate headquarters parking lot, a very special dynamic is at work.
A great bunch of pilots, doing really great work, and able to do so in an environment of moderately enlightened management. No panacea, we didn't cure world hunger, but yeah, it was a really good culture.
Prior to April, 2008 Frontier was an amazing place to work. When you met someone and said you worked at Frontier, the near universal response was "I love Frontier." Not like, but love. I was taken aback, having been raised in a legacy family and having worked for a craptastic regional, that never happened. You might hear a story about how that legacy smashed their luggage, or marooned grandma, but never that they "loved" the airline in question.
This warm niche in the Denver market meant that employees were actually proud to wear stuff from the company store, to put a "Whole Different Animal" license plate frame on the hoopty, etc. An employee could, in good conscience, ask or suggest that a friend fly Frontier because we knew they would be treated well and would get to their destination in a timely fashion. All this was possible because of the fantastic operation we ran, and and the general surfeit of surly employees.
There was usually an operational spare, so a flight cancellation seemed less likely than Haley's comet crusing past. With minimal operational problems, the agents were actually and usually nice. Ongoing hiring kept the FA ranks fresh, and diluted the bitter cat-herder ranks. In house maintenance, from adding oil to C-checks, meant there was alot of pride invested in every machine. An aircraft would come out of a heavy check not only working, but darn near glimmering, inside and out. Mechs took so much ownership of these birds that one guy threw a chock into a running engine to prevent its unairworthy (in his mind) departure. Overboard, yes, but in a world where nobody cares, clearly he cared. The wheelchair pushers (also in house, English-speaking Frontier employees compared to the off-the-boat Somalis from the contract vendor) probably made a pittance, but one day I overheard a pair of them engaged in a deep, financially literate discussion of FRNT stock's peformance over the last year. My jaw dropped. The organization was still small enough that you kinda knew most folks. Captain's hugging station managers was curiously common.
The pilot group was full of folks that really wanted to work here. The miscreants had largely been weeded out after a few purges, and those that remained made an FO's life peachy. We liked each other and liked coming to work. When some new guidance regarding fuel management came down, adoption was near instantaneous and universal. The implementation of these fuel saving suggestions was optional on any given leg, so imagine my surprise at the lockstep compliance of these 700 guys. All pilots and pilot groups take pride in their work. This group really stretched day in and day out to save a few pennies, to retain a few customers, and to keep other workgroups smiling. The Frontier/FAPA relationship was amicable, but not conspiritorial. The contracts kept making progress, yet negotiatations never had to go the brink. When a scheduling pratice was found to be fatiguing it just got fixed. Though ridiculous, a pilot organized that "Save the Animals" rally downtown that garnered lots of free publicity. When FAPA printed a clever historical knockoff "Fly Frontier" sticker, they had to commission a second run to keep up with demand. Rampers were putting them on tugs, managers were putting them on their cars, heck, I've seen that sticker on the GSE of other airlines! When a sticker with the FAPA logo in the corner is applied to scores of cars in the corporate headquarters parking lot, a very special dynamic is at work.
A great bunch of pilots, doing really great work, and able to do so in an environment of moderately enlightened management. No panacea, we didn't cure world hunger, but yeah, it was a really good culture.
Prior to April, 2008 Frontier was an amazing place to work. When you met someone and said you worked at Frontier, the near universal response was "I love Frontier." Not like, but love. I was taken aback, having been raised in a legacy family and having worked for a craptastic regional, that never happened. You might hear a story about how that legacy smashed their luggage, or marooned grandma, but never that they "loved" the airline in question.
This warm niche in the Denver market meant that employees were actually proud to wear stuff from the company store, to put a "Whole Different Animal" license plate frame on the hoopty, etc. An employee could, in good conscience, ask or suggest that a friend fly Frontier because we knew they would be treated well and would get to their destination in a timely fashion. All this was possible because of the fantastic operation we ran, and and the general surfeit of surly employees.
There was usually an operational spare, so a flight cancellation seemed less likely than Haley's comet crusing past. With minimal operational problems, the agents were actually and usually nice. Ongoing hiring kept the FA ranks fresh, and diluted the bitter cat-herder ranks. In house maintenance, from adding oil to C-checks, meant there was alot of pride invested in every machine. An aircraft would come out of a heavy check not only working, but darn near glimmering, inside and out. Mechs took so much ownership of these birds that one guy threw a chock into a running engine to prevent its unairworthy (in his mind) departure. Overboard, yes, but in a world where nobody cares, clearly he cared. The wheelchair pushers (also in house, English-speaking Frontier employees compared to the off-the-boat Somalis from the contract vendor) probably made a pittance, but one day I overheard a pair of them engaged in a deep, financially literate discussion of FRNT stock's peformance over the last year. My jaw dropped. The organization was still small enough that you kinda knew most folks. Captain's hugging station managers was curiously common.
The pilot group was full of folks that really wanted to work here. The miscreants had largely been weeded out after a few purges, and those that remained made an FO's life peachy. We liked each other and liked coming to work. When some new guidance regarding fuel management came down, adoption was near instantaneous and universal. The implementation of these fuel saving suggestions was optional on any given leg, so imagine my surprise at the lockstep compliance of these 700 guys. All pilots and pilot groups take pride in their work. This group really stretched day in and day out to save a few pennies, to retain a few customers, and to keep other workgroups smiling. The Frontier/FAPA relationship was amicable, but not conspiritorial. The contracts kept making progress, yet negotiatations never had to go the brink. When a scheduling pratice was found to be fatiguing it just got fixed. Though ridiculous, a pilot organized that "Save the Animals" rally downtown that garnered lots of free publicity. When FAPA printed a clever historical knockoff "Fly Frontier" sticker, they had to commission a second run to keep up with demand. Rampers were putting them on tugs, managers were putting them on their cars, heck, I've seen that sticker on the GSE of other airlines! When a sticker with the FAPA logo in the corner is applied to scores of cars in the corporate headquarters parking lot, a very special dynamic is at work.
A great bunch of pilots, doing really great work, and able to do so in an environment of moderately enlightened management. No panacea, we didn't cure world hunger, but yeah, it was a really good culture.