I was
thumbing through a magazine recently and came across a short
article titled, “The Pan Am Experience.”
Next to it was a picture of what appeared to be the internal organs of a
glamorous 1970s passenger airplane, complete with smiling flight attendants
dressed to the nines. From the gist of
the headline, I gathered that it was an advertisement to eat how you did on Pan
Am in the 1970s.
For
only $295 ($355 if you want the fancier upper dining deck) you can board a
replica Pan Am 747 and never actually go anywhere. At the check-in desk, instead of getting
strip-searched and herded like cattle, you get a ‘70s boarding pass complete
with ticket jacket and carry-on tags. Using
your boarding pass, you now have a chance to enjoy the lounge without having to
sign up for the airlines’ outrageously heavy interest Mastercard program. In the lounge, with drink in hand, you can
visit the authentic Pan Am "memorabilia".
Now, when I
was growing up, my father was a graveyard airline mechanic for Pan-Am at San
Francisco Airport. Without implicating
my family in the demise and eventual bankruptcy of Pan-Am, I believe it’s okay
to mention that at one time or another we lived on much of the Pan Am
memorabilia that you will see in your Clipper Club lounge. Our coats and luggage all featured the logo,
having been “borrowed” from the airline.
My childhood art masterpieces were done on the Pan Am computer punch
cards of the 1970s. Many of our food items, including the Chateaubriand served
on special family occasions, were “leftovers” from Pan Am. Just seeing the logo for me is like many of
you might feel seeing the wallpaper that adorned your childhood home. But back to the tour.
After you
peruse the items of my childhood, you will board the Air Hollywood replica of
Pan Am’s first Boeing 747. Having not
actually experienced the Air Hollywood version, I can only imagine that you get
to board this without the person behind you crashing your heels with his
luggage or the woman in front of you taking the last spot in the overhead
compartment while yelling into her cell phone.
Once
boarded, your Stewardess (not flight attendant) will be wearing the original tightly
fitted uniform and you will be offered another cocktail while soothing music fills
the cabin of the fake airplane. While
they perform a safety demonstration, you get to sit back in comfortable, roomy
seats, rather than being shoe-horned into the spot between the smelly bible
salesman and the extremely large woman who may or may not be a circus
performer. Rather than having peanut packets thrown at you, you are served a
gourmet four-course meal on fancy China (that may or may not have been used with
the Chateaubriand during my special family dinners). And instead of having plastic cups thrown at
you with 6 precise cubes of ice and four exact fingers of cola, you are served your
choice of beverage in crystal glasses that may or may not have been my
childhood everyday glasses.
During his decade at Pan Am, my father made lifelong friends. It wasn’t until Dad’s funeral that I learned
that some of these friends had only worked with him for a couple of months before
moving on from Pan Am, but they never moved on from one another. There are many stories I cannot share that I
learned about Dad during the after-funeral party, and most also featured Pan Am
in some way or another. Maybe. I'm not implicating anyone.
Pan Am was
a pioneer airline, in both its early routes through continents and in its
fostering of a family-like atmosphere for the employees. The Kelly Act of 1925 authorized government
mail contracts to private carriers. As a
result, many aircraft owners began air carrier services, including Pan American
World Airways in 1927, when it won a contract to deliver mail to and from Cuba
and the United States. By 1930, it
expanded to include mail between Mexico and Latin America and the United States.
At this same time, air carriers were forced to carry passengers not just cargo
to remain competitive. In 1939, Pan Am
was the first United States passenger service to Europe and then provided
military transport to Europe, Africa, and Asia.
By the middle of the 1970s, Pan Am had become one of the world’s largest
air carriers. Deregulation, recession, turmoil
in world politics, airline airfare wars, and high gas prices, caused Pan Am to
lose ground in the mid-1980s.
With their
fleet aging and no money to purchase new aircraft, Pan Am was spending too much
money on keeping their flights in the air-- over $800 an hour for maintenance
costs for every hour an aircraft was in flight. I'm pretty sure my family didn't borrow enough items to contribute to much of that $800 an hour, but just in case, we GAVE IT ALL BACK. That is what I will say if I'm ever asked. WE GAVE IT ALL BACK. Even the Chateaubriand.
It also should be well noted here that my mechanic
father was not earning a cent of this $800 an hour per aircraft, as he was no
longer working at Pan Am. He was in the
lay-off program of years before. But if he had been among the mechanics left,
he would have used his Macgyver-like skills to use spit, glue, and duct tape to
keep those planes in the air for far less than $800 per hour. We should all be
thankful for that lay-off... Pan Am filed
for bankruptcy in 1991 and, while they tried to reopen in 1997, they had to
shut their doors once again when they couldn’t pay their creditors.
While they
may not have been the best of business people, I will forever be grateful to
Pan Am for my “uncles,” for my winter-wear, and for giving this poor child from
a poor family the taste of Chateaubriand, which I found at the time tastes best with just
a hint of catsup.