At the end of my recent sister trip, I had a front row seat to watch the planes coming in and taking off – albeit with a dirty window – as I awaited my flight home in Atlanta. My mind took a turn back in time to my first three-part flight. My oldest son, on the cusp of his first birthday, and I were flying out to join Al in his first military overseas assignment in France. That began on the tiny Southern Airways hop from Tupelo, MS to Atlanta. I think Delta made the flight leg to Newark where I spent the weekend with old friends, but TWA took the final lap to Paris. I began to do some comparisons between flying then and now.
Then: Delta was getting past its beginnings as a cotton crop-dusting enterprise and rising into a bit of respect as a regional airline.
Now: Delta ranks among the top airlines while TWA is history.
Then: Stewardesses were almost uniformly blonde, young, female, and in high heels with a spiffy uniform.
Now: None of my flight attendants were blonde. They ranged from fairly young to middle-aged, spanned a number of ethnic groups with a sprinkling of males, and wore professional clothing with sturdy shoes.
Then: Passengers dressed up nicely to the point that my son’s freshly polished white shoes caused the gentleman, in a nice suit seated next to me, to cringe lest some of that polish rub off on him.
Now: Sneakers seemed to be the norm for shoes with one person wearing a set of soles that had glittery straps in what passed for sandals. Dress ranged from clean casual to looking like one had just come from working in the garden or a morning run.
Then: We boarded showing our paper ticket, and there was no TSA.
Now: I scanned my phone reservation at the TSA station and to board the plane.
Then: Most people who needed a wheelchair just stayed home.
Now: With my recent knee surgery, I joined a plethora of people who were efficiently moved through the bustling crowds at the airport by wheelchair attendants.
Then: Announcements were made over microphones by people who sounded like Charlie Brown’s parents.
Now: Evidently, Charlie Brown’s parents are still alive and well. Some things never change. I just hope the messages weren’t something I needed to know.