I hear people complaining about going to the airport, being harassed by the security agents, scanned through X-Ray machines, asked to identify themselves by agents who are not interested in their jobs, never mind caring about you or your belongings. By the way, how do you know if you lose some of your items while the agents rummage through your handbag and other personal items, not to mention your body?
I took my very first flight from San Diego to Los Angeles via Pacific Southwest Airlines in 1961, at the cost of $15 round trip. It took about one hour from airport to airport, and it was an exhilarating trip which I will not easily forget. It was my first business trip to meet the trainers for the new Xerox machine just purchased by my employer. The training was ok, and the trip was fabulous.
Later, as I continued my climb in business in the early 70s, I was able to purchase 50 tickets at one time, at the cost of $25 round trip which would take me from Los Angeles to either San Francisco, Las Vegas, Phoenix or San Diego, depending on the appointments I was able to organize in my sales itinerary. The tickets were then placed in the office’s safe to be used by either management or salespeople as needed.
It was a time when you arrived at the airport at your leisure, waited for the next flight and found a seat anywhere on the plane. No such things as reservations, assigned seats or identification required. We could not accumulate miles as we do now, and the smokers were asked to find seats on the back of the plane where the ventilators were working overtime.
Drinks were offered, meals were received from the flight attendants; most wore miniskirts to amuse the male passengers. It was also a time when very few women were independent enough to fly unaccompanied.
My travels brought me great pleasure as I met very interesting characters in the construction business. Most were surprised to see a young woman traveling alone and were curious to find out the reason I was “allowed” to check into a hotel, order meals at a restaurant or rent a car without a male companion. Some were rude and obnoxious asking direct questions about my marital status.
During one of my travels, I arrived in Phoenix in the evening in order to have enough time to prepare for the next day’s meetings. The hotel offered a restaurant where I found myself waiting for a table for several minutes. Other clients were arriving and being seated promptly, but not I.
After waiting for what I considered a very long time, I asked the young man serving as host the reason for the delay. His answer was priceless: “You are alone”. So what? Do I need a man? And where do I find one?
Today, I no longer wish to take a plane to another city; I prefer to travel by train when at all possible.
Elva Weber - For more stories go to: www.elvaweber.com
