Wishing on a Sunset
by Pamelagrace Beatty
My first job out of school was as a flight attendant for TWA, back when it 1) existed and 2) was a really good airline. I won’t tell you exactly when because although I am a Baby Boomer, I like to keep my age to myself; especially since I don’t look it. My mother used to say, “A woman who will tell her age, will tell anything.” I understood there were obviously things a woman should never tell, age just being only one of them. So, I don’t tell my age. Why should I?
What happened was, I had no job offers and graduation time was coming fast. I could not go home without a job! That was the whole reason for my parents sending me to a university, so I could get a job and support myself. Not that they didn’t love me. They did. But did they want a permanent resident in their home? Nope. They were almost done with raising kids and all my life they had made it plain that I was to grow up and be able to support myself. By the time I was in college, I was tired of my mother’s disgusting house rules like getting home by 10 PM during the week and 11 PM on weekends (really?). She also insisted I do the dishes, clean the house, save the money I made on my jobs so I would be able to afford to move out, and not fly in small airplanes with guys I just met at bible camp. OK, her expectations weren’t that irrational nor were they unfair, except to me when I was 19 – 22 years old and thought I was grown.
Back to becoming a flight attendant. It was a dream come true. When I was very young, nine or ten years old, I used to sit on the front porch and as I watched the sun set, I would dream of being in different countries where people spoke different languages, ate different food and wore different clothes. I yearned for it with all my heart. I wanted to be there talking to the people, eating what they ate and so on. I never thought it would happen, but I dreamed about it anyway. At that time, I knew no one who had gone to foreign countries except the men who had been in WWII. My aunt had lamps shaped like Geisha girls that my uncle had brought back from Japan. My grandmother had pictures and china that “Uncle” Charley had brought back to her from somewhere in Asia. I knew no one who had gone off to another country just for a holiday, not until much later. Consequently, I never ever saw myself traveling to other countries. That changed, though, during the last semester of college, when I was desperately looking for a job; so desperate that I was interviewing with the FBI, CIA and VISTA.
By the end of college, I was mentally ready to move out from under house rules. But to do so, I needed to have a job, and so far, I had no offers, just interviews. Then, one day the girls on my dorm floor were abuzz! Suzy had gotten a job. She was going to be an airline stewardess! They were so impressed. Suzy was impressed as well. She smiled smugly as everyone oohed and aahed over her amazing achievement. It was quite the accomplishment! Suzy was not exactly one I would ever have thought an airline would hire. I have my reasons for this assessment, but I’ll be kind and keep them to myself. Plus, obviously the interviewer who hired her saw more in her than I did. But Suzy’s triumphant feat set me to thinking. I know this may not show me in my best light, but it does show how there is always some good in any situation.
I had an epiphany! I thought, “Hmmmmm, if they will hire the likes of Suzy, they will hire me to be an airline stewardess, too.” This was quite an exciting idea! Remember, I had always wanted to see other countries and here was a chance to do just that and they would pay me to do it! (Later, I found out why they pay. The job was tougher than I realized it would be, but that’s another story…so stay tuned). My dorm mates fell out laughing when I told them I wanted to become an airline stewardess. “Oh, Pamela” they said, “You can’t be an airline stewardess. You’re colored!” (Black people were still “colored” to some white folks in those days.) I feigned ignorance and looked at them in puzzlement. One girl went on to point out, “Have you ever seen a colored airline stewardess?” Well, no I hadn’t but then I’d only flown in a plane three times. That left room for there to be Black stewardesses I might have missed who flew other flights. The more they tried to convince me that becoming a stewardess was impossible, the more determined I became to be one.
A true friend saw an ad in the newspaper that Pan Am was hiring. It was that weekend and several cities away. There was no way I could get someone to drive me that far. Then I found an ad that Trans World Airlines was hiring in Seattle over spring break! I sent for an application, completed it and sent it in. The day of the interview, because of course I got one – remember Suzy? I dressed in my hippest outfit. It was something I thought a stewardess would wear in a T.V. commercial. I just knew I was looking ever so avant-garde and cool. The interviewer agreed with me. I was interviewing for the international positions, no plain old American routes for me! I was finally going to see the world!
The interviewer questioned me, gave me two foreign language tests, one in French and one in German. I had studied both languages for six years, and never thought at any point I might one day be in those countries. The studying paid off. I passed the tests in flying colors (pun intended). The interviewer checked my tests, and told me right there, I was hired! I was ecstatic. He explained I would have to leave from a different door because the smile on my face would give away that I had been chosen. Just as I neared that door, he called me back. My heart raced. Had he changed his mind? Was something wrong? He said, “Oh, I forgot to check out your legs! Would you come back and let me see them?” I was so glad he still wanted to hire me that I ignored the embarrassment of him scrutinizing my legs. I was nervous though, because I was not overly pleased with my legs. They were long and skinny, but so was I, and that proved to be what the airline was looking for. Yay!
I spent the last of my senior year in a pink cloud (pun intended again). I could barely wait for it all to end so I could begin my new life living my dream of seeing the world. My dorm mates did not congratulate me. In fact, they barely spoke to me. But my friends did. Unfortunately, my mother was disappointed. She had hoped I would get a job at home and be where she could check up on me. TWA had no jobs for flight attendants in Seattle. My dad totally understood my desire to leave town and start a new life. That was how he felt when he moved from Oklahoma to Seattle. He wanted to get as far away from there as possible. I did too, which was why I chose to be placed in New York. My bad. But, again, that’s another story.
To be continued…
