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I'm switching the rest of the story to the Flexible Flyer banner.  I have always thought that would be a good title for my memoirs.  My ...

Monday, November 28, 2016

Overnight Success

Previously, I discussed the financial difficulties my family and I were dealing with during the early years at UPS.  The pilots had been represented by the Teamsters originally, but a group of leaders among the pilots had broken off from them and formed their own union at great risk.  It's a long, boring and convoluted story, but the unions that represent airline employees fall under the Railway Labor Act.  It was created originally to prevent disruption of the nation's commerce by a railroad strike.  Under the RLA, there is no deadline at which the contract must be settled or the workers go on strike.  There is an amendable date, the employees continue working and eventually an agreement is reached or there is a complex process which may eventually lead to a strike.  Long story short, the government is the dealer and the company holds most of the high cards.

When the original contract between UPS and the Teamsters reached its amendable date, the new union, the Independent Pilots Association was the bargaining agent for the pilots.  I believed that historically, these negotiations only lasted a little more than a year after the amendable date.  This one seemed to drag on for nearly a year.

I mentioned in a previous post that I had been going into deeper and deeper credit card debt every month just to support my family.  There was an expectation that we would get a decent raise and move into the same ballpark as the major airlines, or at least into the neighborhood in which the ballpark was located.  We also expected it would not take more than the average time for such negotiations.

Another thing I mention earlier is all the stories I was being told by other pilots about the draconian and stupid things UPS was doing to the crew members.  Occasionally, I would say that I did not disbelieve any of that, but I always tried to give anyone a free first shot.  I did not like to form solid opinions about people based on stories I had been told.  This was especially true for a company where I hoped to work for the next couple decades.

With all my issues, getting deeper and deeper into debt and knowing that relief was just a contract away,  I was really starting to get pissed at UPS for not making a deal.  I considered this to be their free shot and was now onboard with the rest of the folks who had been there before me.  

Finally, the union announced a tentative agreement.  It was not as good as the major airlines, but I would now be making more annually than I had ever made before.  The best part was that we would be paid retroactively for the increase in pay back to the amendable date, nearly 2 years before.  I used the after tax money as a down payment on a house.  We bought a nice house that needed some work.  Even with that, it was probably a little bit of a stretch, but we are still living in that house and my income, over the years, was able to grow into it and beyond.

We had accumulated about $10,000 in credit card debt.  It felt like a million to me.  The mother of a friend was looking for a place to invest money from an investment that had just matured and loaned me the 10 grand at 8% simple interest.  This was a good deal for both of us at the time.  I paid it off as quickly as I could.

I had taken my first flight lesson in the autumn of 1968, in a Cessna 150, at Zelionople Pennsylvania, with the goal of getting an airline job, earning what airline pilots earn.  Here we were, 23 years later.  Although I had been flying for airlines for 9 years, I was only now near the threshold of achieving that goal late in 1991.  I was still about 4 years from actually crossing the threshold, but I could see it from here.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

KPHL

Airports have 3 digit identifiers for domestic use.  Some are easy to understand.  PIT is Pittsburgh.  ABQ is Albuquerque.  For international use there are 4 digits.  Some of these won't make sense to you.  When using 3 digits for Cologne, Germany we use CGN, but internationally, it is know as EDDK.  For international purposes, we add a K in front of the normal 3 digit identifiers for airports in the contiguous 48 states.  The PHL for Philadelphia becomes KPHL.

My practice wife, April, was from a Philadelphia suburb, so I was not a big fan of Philly until I started having layovers there on the 747.  There were some great restaurants there and lots of historic sites to visit.  It was also one of the cities for one of my favorite trips on that plane, PHL - OAK - PHL.  You got it, Oakland, California.  What I like about that trip, was that it was all daytime flying and as I became more senior on the plane, I was able to hold that trip on my schedule line, just about any time I wanted to.  This was a nice break from the clock twisting and mind bending schedules of the international flying.

During one flight from PHL to OAK, we were rerouted north of our normal route.  We usually flew south of Pittsburgh, but this time we were going north.  Our new route had us going directly to Elwood City VOR, EWC.  This navigational aid was about 15 miles northwest of my old stomping grounds, Butler Graham Airport.  This meant we would be flying directly over KBTP.  

I'm not sure of the date of this flight, but I had last flown there in the summer of 1978.  This flight was some time in the first half of the 1990s.  As the field passed under the nose of the Whale, I was thinking about the people, back in the mid 70s, when I flew out of there,  who would have never anticipated I would be flying in this airspace in a 747.  I have to admit that I was among them.  It is still an amazing thing for me to think about that transition.

It seemed that there were several times when I woke up in KPHL to bad news stories , in which I had some involvement, on the TV news channels.  For example, once the TV was full of the news that John Heinz, U.S. Senator from Pennsylvania, had been killed in Philadelphia in a collision between an airplane and a helicopter.  In 1976, the year Heinz first ran for senator, I had been flying his opponent, Bill Green, during the campaign.  Green and Heinz had both been Members of Congress.  Heinz was from Pittsburgh and Green from Philadelphia.  It's a good thing I was apolitical at that time.  Bill Green was a Democrat, but I liked him, his family and his campaign staff.  It was fun traveling with them during the campaign and going to political rallies all over the state.  I flew with them in some nasty winter weather, including a tight nighttime approach into Johnstown, PA in a blizzard.  I even got to spend a night at their home in Washington.  

During one of the bid periods on which I was flying the PHL - OAK trip, I got to fly with two of my favorite guys.  The captain was Tod Nichols and the flight engineer was my old pal Geary Chancey, who I had met when I was in training on the Whale.  Tod was a very smart guy, very articulate and a good debater.  He was a liberal and I was just coming to the full realization that I was a conservative.  We had some blistering arguments, which helped us stay awake while crossing the North Pacific.  Eventually, we realized we liked each other and avoided talking about politics.  

There was a micro brewery in Oakland that we liked to visit for dinner and an interesting, hand crafted brew.  It was called the Pacific Coast Brewing Company and it was a short walk from our layover hotel downtown.  This place had several of its own beers and had a rotating menu of micro brews from other sources.  There were descriptions of the beers that were similar to those you would see about fancy, expensive wines.  We went there once with a guy who ordered an MGD Light, which is something I consider to be 'why bother beer'.  You should have seen the look on the face of the waiter.  Priceless.

Anyway, Geary and I were planning to go there and I needed some walking around cash, so I went to an ATM on the street near the hotel.  I remember hearing Geary standing behind me saying, "I got your 6, Denny".  Oakland has a reputation for being a kind of lawless place.  He was a Marine fighter pilot and having someones 6 means he had my back covered as I was accessing my money.  It was chuckle worthy, as this was in broad daylight.

We had also spent some time in the aviation section of a book store, where we met a guy who was in the early stages of his aviation career.  He was a student at Sierra Academy of Aviation, where my old pal, Dave " Captain Twirly" Orris had attended.  We ended up giving him career advice and I remember the daggers coming from the eyes of his girlfriend, as I told him not to get too tied down before he had gained enough experience to apply to the airlines.

The trip with Tod and Geary lasted about a week and Geary had mentioned several times that he would be on vacation after the trip and would not be with us during the next trip.  He and his wife were planning to take their daughter on a trip on Amtrak from their home in Jacksonville, Florida to New Orleans.  His daughter was 11 and confined to a wheelchair.  He called her their "miracle child", because they had been trying to have children and just about given up hope, when she was born.  This would be her first train ride and Geary was very excited about the trip.  

We had a week off and I deadheaded to Philly to begin the trip.  When I woke up, the news was full of the story of the Amtrak crash north of Mobile Bay.  I thought about Geary, but thought the chances he was on that particular train were slim.  When I met Tod and the new engineer, who was flying in Geary's place, Tod mentioned the crash and the possibility that Geary was on that train.  I told him what I had been thinking, we did not know what day he and his family would be passing through there and there had to be many Amtrak trains passing through there each day.  "What are the chances they were on that train?"  Tod nodded and said, "Yeah, you're probably right".

We flew the rest of our trip and I deadheaded back to Louisville from Philadelphia after it ended.  As I walked into the UPS building upon arrival, I saw a friend who said, "Did you hear one of our guys was on the Amtrak train in Mobile?"  I asked, "Was his name Geary Chancey?"  He said, "Yeah, I think it was".  It was.

I was rattled.  Geary was one of the truly good guys.  His wife had died also, but their daughter had survived.  I would be anticipating seeing his smiling face coming around the corner in that building for months.  The story we got at their funeral, was that Geary had gotten his daughter out of their car, which was submerged, placed her in a safe place, then gone back for his wife.  He never returned to the surface.  He was a Marine hero to the end.  I cried at their funeral.     


Tuesday, November 15, 2016

50/50

Frequently, when I start writing one of these chapters, I don't know where I will be going with it and can't think of a title.  As things develop, it becomes apparent what the title will be.  Let's see where we go with this one.

I spent 5 years on the Whale.  It was during this time that we negotiated the first Independent Pilots Association (IPA) contract with UPS.  I was surprised to be flying with captains who did not seem to be bothered enough by the slow pace of negotiations.  In other words, they were still busting their balls to keep the planes moving on time or early and with great efficiency.  I would not advocate deliberately causing delays, but I would just do my job at 100%, back off from the usual 110% and let the chips fall where they lay.  No early departures.  Read your manuals and do things exactly the way they are written there.  If you just did that, there will be delays.  That's just the way it is.  The system depends on pilots taking initiative and going above and beyond the call of duty.

We were flying the 747-100s.  During the Christmas season "Peak" we leased a -200 from a European company and got to see what the 747 performed like when it was not under powered.  The -200 just seemed to leap off the runway, when you rotated, compared to the -100.  We were almost always flying them fully loaded and long distances, so they used lots of runway on takeoff.  We would call V1 (our stop or go decision speed), Rotate, and as the nose came up, we could see that we were close to the end of the runway as it disappeared.  We would roll along for a while, before the wheels lifted off and with 18 wheels, that was a process. I had never flown a plane where I was that close to the end before it lifted off.

The 747 wing was designed for speed.  It was a relatively fast jet, once you got it going.  It climbed at a fast speed, but the climb rate was slow when it was heavy.  Upon leaving Tokyo, there was a fix as we entered the overwater route structure, where we had to be at our initial flight planned altitude,usually FL310 and we struggled to make that.  If we could not, we had to advise the controllers.  Most often we just made it.  Our flights were planned to fly at Mach .84, 84% of the speed of sound, Mach 1.0.  The plane really wanted to fly at .85 or .86.  At .84, if you flew into a down draft, the speed bled off quickly and it took lots of time and fuel to get it back up to speed.  At .85 or greater, that didn't happen.  Guess how fast we usually flew it.




Speed and altitude were critical on the overwater flights, because we were no longer in radar contact and collisions were avoided by using an elaborate position reporting process.  Another issue was that our Very High Frequency (VHF) communication radios were out of range from land based transmitters after about 100 miles, so we had to communicate with Ultra High Frequency (UHF) radios.  These radios had lots of noise and static on them, so we would check in on them before we "coasted out" and advise the radio operators of our Selcal code.  This was a device that had a 4 letter code, specific to our plane and we could avoid listening to all the static, because the operator would ring us up with the Selcal.  We would then turn on the audio for UHF and call to see what they wanted to tell us.  It was usually a handoff to the next controlling authority.

This reminded me of a story that has provided me with the title of this chapter.  As you would expect, I was getting the hang of this international flying business and when I did it, I continued to do the extra things to assure safety and accuracy.  It was my job to help the rest of the crew to avoid mistakes that could harm anyone or get us in legal trouble.

I was on a flight to Cologne with one of my favorite captains, Mickey Finnegan.  Mick was a little older than me, but was very fit.  He was a blonde haired, Southern California surfer dude.  We liked to take long walks for exercise and entertainment on our longer layovers.  I can remember one such walk from our hotel in Narita, through some of the Japanese farm country.  On the flight in question, we were approaching the point where we coasted out at Gander, Newfoundland, when we were advised of a route change on the North Atlantic Tracks.  Unlike the North Pacific, the routes over the North Atlantic change every 12 hours.  This is because the Atlantic passenger flights all leave the US for Europe at about the same time, mid evening, and leave Europe at about the same time for the US, early afternoon.  In order to take advantage of the winds, the Tracks are located near the jet stream for greater airspeed eastbound and away from the jet stream for the westbound flights.




UPS flights were often flown at a time that was not the same as the mass exodus of passenger flights, so we were assigned a route outside the Tracks.  I think there were about 5 or 6 Tracks at any time.  Whether flying in or out of the tracks, our routes were designated by Latitude and Longitude.

On the flight with the Mickster, we had originally been assigned 49 degrees North latitude, 050 degrees West longitude as our initial point over the water.  The revision was to 50 North, 50 West.  We sometimes used a short hand and called it 50/50.

When we enter these fixes into our navigation equipment, one crew member does it and at least one other checks to see if it is correct.  We had a sharp guy as our flight engineer that day, Jim Sampson, and he was watching also.  It wasn't necessary, but I plotted the bearing from the VHF Omnidirectional Radio (VOR) at Gander to the 50/50 fix, then set that course in the window to assure that we were tracking correctly.  

We would be using Inertial Navigation Sytem (INS) equipment only for our over water navigation.   These older planes did not have satellite navigation back then.  INS was accurate enough and we had 3 of them to cross check accuracy with.  It was based on entering your position on the ramp with known coordinates.  Then, as you moved, the INSs sensed the accelerations and knew where you were.  If we flew for a while before coasting out, we could update the position as we flew over a known point.

I drew our new course, and we flew out to 50/50.  We did all the plotting stuff we were supposed to do and then headed for our fix on 40 West.  I don't remember the latitude.  As we called to make our position report, the radio operator told us we were nearly 50 miles north of our 50/50 fix and that a gross navigational error report would be filed against it.  We all felt pretty bad about that and Mickey, who was an excitable guy, was bouncing around the cockpit like a pinball, ping, ping, ping.  I did a comparison check on our 3 INSs and they were very tight.  This made me think there was some kind of mistake.  The fact that we tracked perfectly out my plotted VOR radial toward 50/50 assured me also.  

I tried to calm Mickey and told him all the evidence I had that we were where we thought we were and had tracked out from Gander as I had plotted.  I remember big Jim pointing at the course selector and saying, "Yes, he still has the frequency and course set in the window".  I showed them the plotting line I had draw.  

As we approached 30 West, we got a call from the radio operator, handing us off to the Shanwick Sector and advising us that we had not been off course and they would not be filing a gross navigational error report on us.  We were already pretty certain we were not in trouble, but that was reassuring.

We flew on to Cologne, landed, went to the hotel and had a good sleep.  I woke up and walked to a coffee shop in the morning for my caffein fix and a pastry.  My friend Lloyd, who was flying DC-8s walked in and joined me.  After the usual comments, I mentioned that we had a weird thing happen as we crossed the Atlantic.  He said, "I know".  He told me a crazy story.

He had been flying a DC-8 behind us on their way to Standsted Airport, near London, then on to Cologne.  Both flights had 4 digit call sign numbers, that each had a couple 6s in them.  His flight had received the same route change we did.  Their plane had similar INSs, but only 2.

When you enter the coordinates, you have to enter degrees, minutes and seconds.  50 North is entered N50.00.00  50 West is W050.00.00. Because of the shorthand of talking about this fix as 50/50, Lloyd had entered the North coordinate as N50.50.00, only 10 minutes from 60 North/50 West.  The captain and flight engineer did not catch the error.  It was their flight that had been nearly 60 miles north of the assigned fix, but because of the call sign similarity, the operator called us and nearly gave Mickey a heart attack. 

 Lloyd's crew was advised to call the authorities when they landed at Standsted, which they did.  By this time the controllers and radio operators figured out what happened and because they also screwed up, everyone was off the hook.  If they had called Lloyd's flight when they called us, they could have actually corrected them in time to avoid the problem.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

24 hour layovers

The flights into the desert and back to Rome exceeded the time for a three crew member plane and required a "heavy" crew, an additional captain and flight engineer.  At first, UPS tried to fly the trips with a normal crew.  One of the captains was arguing in the hotel restaurant with a management pilot named Tom Gummer.  Gummer was insisting that he fly with the normal compliment and the captain said, "The FARs (Federal Aviation Regulations) haven't been suspended, just because there is a war".  Things got heated and Gummer "fired" the captain.  That is when Gummer and all the other pilot managers learned that they did not have the power to fire pilots.  The captain kept his job and all the flights carried the required extra crew members.  This was the weird kind of stuff that was happening because of the arrogance of UPS and their lack of knowledge of how airlines are run.

At first, the international nature of the flying was causing me to be behind the curve while flying.  Furthermore, I was not used to being a first officer, copilot.  It is almost as if you have to turn off or subdue the decision making circuit of your mind.  Frequently the decisions you would make would be overridden by the captains.  Many of the captains on the 747 were old school.  They were very impressive in their experience and knowledge of international flying, but they frequently thought the first officer was a voice activated autopilot.  They would tell you when to start down, when to extend the flaps and when to extend the landing gear.  I might have needed a little assistance in those decisions at first, but soon got the plane figured out and just had to bite my tongue and tolerate the interference.  Remember, I always had the philosophy that it is the captain's plane and we must always remain within his or her comfort zone.

When the Desert War ended, we returned to our normal flying.  We flew from Louisville to Anchorage, Alaska, spent 24 hours, then to Tokyo's international airport at Narita, Japan.  We flew to Philadelphia or Newark, then on to Cologne, Germany.  We had domestic flights to Dallas, Portland and Philadelphia.  We flew to Ontario, California, then on to Honolulu after a layover.  There were day time flights between Philadelphia and Oakland, California each day, but they were very senior trips.  

Before going to Alaska and Hawaii, I had never thought I would ever go to all the states.  I started thinking about how many states I had been to.  When I looked through my logbook and remembered driving trips, I was surprised to learn that the list of states I had never been to was very short.  They included, North and South Dakota, Montana, Mississippi, Minnesota, Vermont, and New Hampshire.  There was no way the Whale would fly to some of those places, but I filed the information away.

The flights to Japan were interesting, because we crossed the International Date Line.  Check out that hyper link.  It is very informative.  We left Anchorage at about 1000 hours, 10 AM to you civilians.  We arrived in Tokyo earlier in the morning, but on the next day, after a 6 or 7 hour flight.  That can bend your mind, but the return flight was bendier.

We left Tokyo in the evening, around 9 PM or so and arrived in the morning of the same day we had just lived through in Asia.  It was crazy.  That kind of stuff and crossing all the time zones can make you very confused.  

Trying to figure out when to sleep was also an issue.  We had mostly 24 hour layovers on the 747.  We would take the plane to a city, another crew would take it on the next stop and we would wait until the next plane came through at the same time next day.

Now you may think a 24 hour layover is cool and makes it possible to get lots of sleep, but there is a problem.  When you arrive, you have been on duty for a long time, 8 or 9 hours, let's say.  Flying long legs in a jet can be tiring.  You want to eat something and go to sleep.  If you sleep 8 hours, you are probably at least 9 or 10 hours into your 24 hour layover.  That leaves 14 or 15 hours until you next flight.  This is just about the time your body thinks you should be getting ready for bed again.  Sleep 8 hours, be awake 16 hours and repeat as necessary.

I you did that, you would be going on duty when your brain cell is getting ready to shut down for the day.  So we would usually take a nap when we arrived, have a period of being awake in which we would eat, exercise and do some sight seeing, then try to sleep as much as we could before our next report time.

There were issues.  Humans sleep better in the dark.  It was not always the hour of darkness when we tried to sleep.  In fact, it never was.  There were maids banging around in the hotel rooms and hallway.  There were drivers honking their horns in the streets below.  There were hotel personnel calling your room to see if you wanted maid service.  Sometimes, UPS Crew Scheduling was calling to alert you to a change.  If you remembered, you disconnected the phone, which was risky, because a family member may need to get in touch.  This was usually done through UPS.  

For example, when my dad was on his death bed, I was in Cologne, Germany.  We had arrived and I had gone out to have some beers with a crew member.  We returned to the hotel, saw some other folks we knew in the lobby and were talking at about midnight or so, when someone from the front desk came over and asked for me by name.  I had a good idea what was going on.

It was scheduling and they told me to call my wife.  Doreen told me what was up and I called scheduling back.  They arranged for me to fly from Cologne to Frankfort, then to Pittsburgh and I joined my family at the hospital.  It was just before Christmas.

So, anyway, 24 hour layovers have their problems.  We had to learn how to manage sleep and frequently, things just didn't work out.  It is not possible to force yourself to sleep.  I can remember many, many times, lying in bed and just rolling around, wide awake.  I called it the rotisserie.  Knowing that you had to sleep and that there was a window of opportunity before a report time would only make it worse.  Sleep was the number one topic of conversation among UPS pilots while on a trip.  "Did you get any sleep?"  "No, I feel like shit."  "Same here."  "OK, we'll have to choreograph naps on this leg."

With our normal compliment of crew members, sleeping was verboten.  However, I am here to tell you, it had to be done.  The only problem was when you woke up and saw the other guy was sleeping too.  It happens.  Most of the time, it happened when the naps were not planned.  You had to determine who was in the worst shape and let them go first.  Wake them up after a couple hours, then let the other guy go.  Ah, sleeping sitting up in the beat up, old seats of our whales, those were the days.


The flight engineers were allowed to nap.  I mentioned my friend Geary Chancey before.  We flew together a lot.  We seemed to like doing the same kind of stuff.  On several legs from Tokyo to Anchorage Geary would put his head down on the engineer's table and zonk out.

Somewhere over the Pacific, the sun would start coming up, directly at our 12 o'clock position, right in the kisser.  It was blinding.  If you had been awake the whole flight to this point, seeing the sun in that way made us very tired.  I guess it was the realization that we had been awake all night.

When Geary was napping, the sun would wake him up and he would jump up from his seat and start singing that old James Brown song, I Feel Good, with appropriate screaming and dancing.  Very entertaining for the rest of the crew, as our eyeballs were hanging down on our cheeks. 



   



  

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Flying Whales



The UPS 747 simulator was in Dallas.  After ground school, I flew down there for training.  I met a guy named Geary Chancey, who was going to be the flight engineer for my simulator training.  We became great friends immediately.  He was a former Marine Corp pilot and had just finished training himself.

I flew all my Initial Operating Experience flying on domestic flights to Dallas or Portland.  The final flight of IOE was to Honolulu, Hawaii and I was told this was going to be my over water training leg.  The instructor/check airman was Rick Barr, who would eventually be the top management pilot at UPS.  

This was close to the end of my first, probationary year at UPS and I was due for a TLA.  During the company indoctrination classes, we had been told about TLAs.  That stands for Talk, Listen, Act.  I was going to get a chance to Talk, UPS would listen and then Act on what I said if they thought what I told them was a good idea.

They claimed that they understood that we all came from varied backgrounds that they wanted us to infuse new blood into this old company.  We were supposed to observe the company during our probationary year and then point out areas where we thought they may be able to improve.  SMH.

At the time, I took this seriously and thought long and hard about what I could bring to that conversation, that could not be brought by every other pilot.  I concluded that it was my training in the Army as an instructor and my experience in aviation as a general aviation flight instructor, flight engineer simulator and ground school instructor, airline ground school instructor and airline check airman.  Especially important were the Army classes on instructing.  I always thought they were excellent.

In observing instruction at UPS, I came to the same conclusion that I had come to at all those levels of aviation instruction.  People are put into instructor positions mostly because they know aviation, but not because they know instructing.  They make lots of mistakes as instructors.

For example, the Army classes taught me that when you are pointing to a chalk board or other exhibit, be careful to do it so that you can face the class.  If you turn toward the wall, the people in the back of the room may not be able to hear you.  I witnessed such an event in my DC-8 ground school, pointed it out to the instructor and he told me to sit in the front row.  Unacceptable. 

Management pilots would frequently use TLAs as an excuse to buy dinner or drinks for line pilots and put it on their expense accounts.  Therefore, I had a grand total of 3 TLAs during my first year.

The first was in Cologne Germany, the day after a manager had grabbed the lion's share of a bar tab and realized what he had done next day.  We all took a walk along the Rhein River and made a stop at a cafe, during which he asked us what we were expecting in the upcoming contract negotiations.  I didn't think he should be asking us that kind of stuff and I sure as hell didn't think my fellow pilots should be answering that, but they did.  One idiot even said his brother in law, who was an accountant, thought we already made too much.  That is ridiculous, because we were at the bottom of the airline industry at that time.  For some reason, we all got up and left before I had a chance to say my piece on that and that is a good thing.  I would have pissed off the other pilots and might have gotten myself fired.

Another TLA was in Denver, when a manager wanted to buy the crew dinner.  Then the final was with Rick Barr at lunch in Honolulu during a torrential rain storm.

At all 3, I explained that I thought it might be a good idea to send all of our instructors to a class similar to the ones I attended at the Non Commissioned Officer Academy at Ft. Knox, or to hire an instructor from there who was retiring from the Army.  All 3 of the managers told my they thought my idea was great, that it was one of the most original suggestions they had heard and the all took lots of notes. I retired from UPS more than 20 years later and they never created a class for their instructors.  Oh, well.  That should tell you a lot.  As I told you, Rick Barr became the highest ranking management pilot at UPS and the other guy, Doug Ward, became the chief pilot of the eastern US and Europe.  These were guys who could have gotten things done, but they didn't.
   

While all this was going on, Saddam Hussein had invaded Kuwait. UPS was part of CRAF and the entire 747 fleet was dedicated to flying supplies to the desert nations from which the counter attack would be made. 

My very first trip after being released to the line was to deadhead to Shannon Ireland on passenger airlines, wait for a 747 inbound from Navy Norfolk and then fly it to Naval Air Station Sigonella, then on to Rome.  I was scheduled to fly from Louisville to JFK airport in New York on USAir, then on to Shannon on Are Lingus.  At the gate in Louisville, I met the captain and flight engineer.  We were told by the agents at the gate that the flight would be departing 90 minutes late, because of a delay involving an inbound crew.

The captain was Ernie Medina (not that Ernest Medina) and the engineer was Clark Palmer.  We had never met before, Clark was a new hire and Ernie was one of the most meticulous pilots I have ever flown with, almost too meticulous.

We took some seats and do what all UPS pilots do when they get a chance to talk.  We bitched about the company.  When we thought it was getting close to time to start boarding, we went to the gate podium and were told that the flight had been announced, boarded and it departed.  We were astounded.  How had we missed all that? I guess we were so involved in our gripe session, we were oblivious to what was happening around us.

Ernie was very upset and nervous.  He was always careful to avoid opportunities to screw up like this.  The agents told us they had a flight departing soon for Laguardia airport and they could get us on it.  Our bags were on the JFK flight, but we could get them after we used ground transportation between the airports.  This could all be done, but it was going to be tight and stressful.

At Laguardia, we got a cab and got stuck in New York City traffic.  Ernie was very up tight.  We developed a plan for 2 of us to find the baggage carousel with our stuff and one of us to go to the Aer Lingus gate and try to prevail upon them to delay the flight, if necessary.  We finally got to JFK, Clark and I rounded up our stuff and did the OJ run through the terminal deal, only to learn that the Aer Lingus flight was delayed.  Our stress levels went down and we had an enjoyable flight across the Atlantic. 

We stayed at a little hotel near the airport in Limerick and I looked up Cleary in the phone book.  There were lots of them. It was almost like Smith or Jones in the US.  I didn't sleep well.

When we went to the airport, it was raining.  We met the plane, being flown in by me future pal, Aaron Gould, who reminds me of a cross between Ving Rhames and Carl Weathers.  When we got going, I had my first experience trying to understand foreign air traffic controllers speaking in English, which is the international language of aviation.

Being a newby, I was far behind the airplane again.  There were some differences in the way arrivals and departures were built in the charts and Ernie was working over time to keep me up to speed.  This was the first, but not the last time I felt great respect for our international captains, who could take a huge airplane and two guys who did not yet know how to do their jobs, and literally go anywhere in the world.  I had years of experience being a captain in my own country, but this was a totally new game.

We stayed in Rome for several days.  Rome was a staging airport for UPS to fly its planes into the desert.  Those countries did not want the planes and crews laying over there (I was told it was because of limited ramp space), so as soon as the plane was unloaded and refueled, it was flown back to Rome, then back to the US for another load.  Since the planes were empty, we could load them up with fuel and make it from Rome to Louisville.  The international identifier for Louisville Standiford Airport is KSDF and many of the European enroute controllers had never seen that as a destination before.  One asked me where it was.  I said Louisville Kentucky, but he did not seem to understand or know where that was.  I said Kentucky Derby.  He got it.

As we began the process of going out over the ocean on the way back, it became painfully apparent that I did not know what I was supposed to do.  Ernie had to give me a quick class.  I was to learn a year later, that my trip to Honolulu did not qualify me to fly the North Atlantic or the North Pacific.  Training on the Atlantic would have qualified for the other two, because it was the most difficult, but neither of the others worked for the North Atlantic.  When the records people learned of the mistake, they had me take a test to prove I knew the Atlantic procedures.  By that point, I had been flying it many times and it was no problem.  The test was a CYA for UPS.