There was a time when being a Regional Pilot meant you never left the very small region your employer flew in. Often this was no larger than a thumbprint on a map. In the early days of my airline career, when my hair was significantly less grey and my ears could hear things without a backing band ringing bells in them, that thumbprint fit neatly over eastern Pennsylvania and just a hint of a sliver into Western Maryland. We would fly back and forth and back all day. We would do this many times a week. Many times a month. That thumbprint became pretty recognizable from above.
Our flight legs were smaller, as were the planes. And the planes had propellers!
One of the many fun times about those days was when the weather was horrible you could never get above it. Those propellers would beat the air as best they could but never enough to outclimb the clouds.
Back and forth and back again, right there in the middle of it would be our days on those bad weather days.
“I’d recommend a half cup of coffee. That lid will not contain the waves we are soon to stir up.”
And then it would get dark and you would keep going knowing from previous experience (an hour ago) that there were bumps ahead hidden in the night sky.
I’m thinking back to one of those nights.
We would fly what they call in the airline world, flag stops. I don’t know why they are called such. No flags but the stop would be a small airport between the departure airport and the destination in which some people would get off, a few may get on and sometimes the nice people at the airport would give us some candy for linking their essential airport to the outside world.
On the particular dark night I’m thinking about the flag stop was Altoona, Pennsylvania. We would stop there on our flight between Pittsburgh, PA, and Hagerstown, MD. Typically, a few passengers would get off and we would be on our merry way carrying the rest to Maryland. This night was one of those “bad weather nights”.
Flying low over the rolling hills of Pennsylvania and in the weather, the bumps were especially bumpy. And it was dark. And there was lightning making it way more fun for the people in the back. They were getting their money’s worth alright. When we landed at our flag stop I could hear a collective sigh of relief from the back of the plane.
As we parked, our flight attendant called up to say everyone wanted off. Even though they had paid for a ticket to Hagerstown. They had made the collective decision to chip in and rent a van, eat the cost of the plane ride, and drive the rest of the way without us. If there was a vote, I imagine it was unanimous.
As the Captain of this journey, I decided to offer them a reassuring voice, donned my hat, and stood at the exit of the plane to alleviate their worries.
“Listen, the ride was rough getting in and it will be rough getting out but we are going either way and I assure you it is perfectly safe. You are free to rent a van if you like but know that I feel comfortable flying to Hagerstown. The flight will be bumpy but we will be there in twenty minutes.”
And with that. Everyone got off.
Perhaps my voice wasn’t as smooth as I thought.
I tipped my hat to each as they left and then we flew empty and ate all the snacks.