University of Virginia Library

Lopatkiewicz & Yates

The 747 Comes
To Charlottesville

When Piedmont Airlines joined
the 747 market with the addition
to its fleet of one of the mammoth
birds, we were mistaken for
legitimate members of the press and
invited to be present on the maiden
flight to New York.

Having read that the
introduction of the 747 has caused
severe crowding at airports due to
the large number of passengers
which can be accommodated on each
flight, we were determined to arrive
at the Charlottesville Co-op Airfield
several hours early. After the
two-and-a-half hour drive, by which
time we had consumed all four of
our box lunches, we pulled up
before the barn-like structure which
serves as the passenger terminal.

It was only 9 a.m. and, save for
the sounds of chickens cackling
across the ticket counter, the
terminal was deserted. After an
hour's wait, during which time we
searched in vain for an indoor rest
room, a rather hefty woman of
more than 300 pounds burst from
behind the office door, yawning
and scratching and scattering the
chickens in a flurry of feathers.

Hungry, Boys?

"Y'all ready for somethin' to
eat," she barked, as she picked a
plume from her uncombed hair and
gathered the morning eggs from off
the counter. "We don't sell tickets
'till after breakfast," she explained
with a gaping smile.

We politely rejected the offer
and explained that we had come for
the maiden flight of the 747.

"So they're really gettin' someone
to fly in that crate," she
hooted heartily. "It should be here
at 11:15."

We pointed out that the schedule
indicated the plane was to
arrive at 10 a.m.

"Aw, we never go by that," she
replied. "The cows won't be milked
and off the runway before eleven.
The plane doesn't take off from
Crozet until we're ready for her."

We showed her our press cards
and she reached into her dress and
produced the tickets for New York.

Because we had been invited on
the flight, we were charged only 96
per cent of the original cost
$62.50 a piece. We realized Piedmont
had juggled the books to get
us this extraordinary saving. Had
we travelled student farce, we
would have paid double the ordinary
price. Standby tickets were
sold by Piedmont at reduced rates
only to individuals who can prove
membership in Farmington Country
Club.

"We've raised the prices on the
747," the woman pointed out. "We
figger it costs more to drag all them
empty seats across the sky."

After an additional wait, in
which time a desperate but vain
search was made for a flight
insurance machine, a resounding
thud and the bellowing of cattle
was heard from outside. The
woman gingerly whisked our luggage
from the floor and slung it
onto the runway. Since only one of
the suitcases was crushed on impact,
the plane was promptly
backed over the other one.

The female attendant hoisted
herself onto the counter and
called through a megaphone that the
non-stop flight was now departing
for New York.

Clambering aboard the plane, we
quickly recognized that we were to
be the only passengers on the flight.
A stewardess efficiently ushered us
to two aisle seats. When we pointed
out that we held first-class tickets,
she replied that we were seated
forward of the cargo.

After a forty-five minute delay,
while we were cleared for take off
by the flight silo, one of the plane's
engines was revved up and we were
on our way. The only unexpected
event prior to take-off was that the
entrance hatch fell from its hinges
as it was slammed shut. Fortunately,
one of the seventy-year-old
stewardesses was relegated to the
task of holding the door in place
throughout the flight.

As we cruised over Laurel,
Maryland, the plane's pilot joined
us in the passenger section for an
exclusive interview. When we asked
him how he could leave the
cockpit, he explained that one of
the stewardesses, who needed only
five more hours to gain her private
pilot's license, was at the helm.

The captain expressed great
pride in the fact that Piedmont was
the second airline to acquire the
new jet. He boasted that the craft
had been acquired at Pan Am's
half-price sale as it had been the
test model with faulty emergency
exits.

When we questioned him as to
the danger involved, he replied
confidently, "We don't need emergency
hatches. When this bird goes
down she'll fall like a ton of
bricks." He explained that the
airline expected to get at least a
dozen flights out of the defective
craft. "Just enough to pay her off,"
he smiled.

Dropping Out

The plane was suddenly enveloped
in a cloud of soot and we
knew we were over New Jersey. As
we moved into our holding pattern
over Kennedy Airport, the stewardesses
produced their knitting for
the expected wait.

As it turned out, we circled New
York City for 34 hours. Because it
is against Piedmont's policy to offer
anything more than chewing gum
and lee water to passengers, our
hungers began to get the best of us.
However, we were pleased to
discover that the rest room facilities
were functioning smoothly.

Finally, the pilot announced
that we were still 472 in line for
landing, and it was decided to turn
back for Charlottesville. Despite
our protests of immunity of the
press, we were buckled into parachutes.
With a sigh of relief, the
grey-haired stewardess released her
grasp on the door, and we were
sucked into the ionosphere over the
Bronx. A cheerful, "Thank you
for flying Piedmont," floated down
to us.

As we plunged toward Harlem,
we tugged at the rip cords provided
free of charge and hoped that our
parachutes were not those rejected
by the Air Force as moth-infected.