I remember the first flight I took. It was when Jay was in San Francisco when he was on the USS Menifee APA 220. He had been assigned to her to get her ready to be recomissioned for use in the Korean Conflict. (They didn't call that one a War to start with). All the wives were invited to attend the ceremony and of course I had to go. The only way to get up there and back was to fly. I had never been off the ground before, and was scared to death the plane would crash. Back then the planes were two seats on each side of the isle and not nearly as nicely outfitted then as they are now. Of course you did have one advantage, they fed you back in those days.
I remember my brother Ralph took me to the Airport in Los Angeles. I was on a flight with TWA. That was the biggest line at the time. Ralph had been a Paratrooper during WWII and jumped out of something much more ventilated than what I was going up in. He was very supportive, but little he said made me feel any safer. I guess I had a lot of Grandma Hall in me. She would'nt even go up in a tower at Gettysberg. Well I got on that plane, and hoped I wouldn't get sick. I was setting next to the window. That can be a good thing, or bad. In this case it was bad! If you have never flown into San Francisco you will not enjoy the thrill it is to land there.
When they announced we were approaching the Airfield and would be landing shortly, I was a bit releived this was about to end. Then I looked out the window. Nothing but water. We came in over the bay, and the approach was "forever". Water, water everywhere. The lower we got the more concerned I was. I just knew we would soon be in the "drink" and though they had given us instructions about a water landing, and where the floatation things were, I wasn't sure I could find it. We kept coming closer and closer to the touch down, with not one piece of tera ferma in sight. Then there was a dry patch, not big, but it was showing signs of ground. By the time I had made up my mind there was something solid down there, I felt the wheels touch down and the plane come to a glide into the terminal.
Here I was in San Francisco. Not one idea of where I was to go, or even how to get there. I guess the Lord was looking our for me, shaking and alone as I was. The first Cab I found had just returned from taking someone else out for the Ceremony. He knew just where I needed to go. When we got to the ship, it was quite a walk, but I managed, high heels and all to get on board. Then there was the sea of sailors - all dressed up in their dress uniforms. Well I knew who the officers were, but finding Jay was another thing. Luckily he saw me first. He wanted to take me down below to show me where he was staying. If you haven't been on a ship, you may not realize how high the step up is to clear the "door ways". I had on a tight skirt, that was not made for such "high stepping". Jay pretty much had to lift me up and over everyone. Then of course there were the stairs. On one of my up or downs, I don't remember which, one of the sailors, and not the one I was married to, pinched me. Jay thought it was funny, I didn't share in his humor.
We returned topside and went through a very boring ceremony. The crew, or at least a good many of them were given "liberty" and we left the ship. Back into town by Cab and then to find some kind of housing for the time we had. What a dingy Hotel we found. It had a shared bath between the rooms. Hardly a "honeymoon suite". The Ceremony was hardly over when it started to rain. It rained every minute I was in San Francisco. My shoes were ruined, and they were new. I was soaked and my hair was dripping, straight, and a mess. Just what you want when you haven't seen your husband for 3 months.
We found a little bar down the street from the Hotel. It had a huge couch and a wonderful fireplace. We sat in front of that fire and talked and enjoyed the atmosphere of the place. Jay had a couple of drinks, I wasn't much of a drinker, so I had "shirley temples". All in all it was great to see Jay again, but the town and the weather were horrible. I hate San Francisco. Every time I have had to go to that town it has rained.
Well to end this "first flight" experience. Jay took me to the Airport and we said goodbye and I got on that airplane, not AS apprehensive as when I left Los Angeles, but I wasn't anxious to look out the window for the take off I can tell you. I took an isle seat for that one.
I flew a great many times after that, and loved it. Take off, landing, the works. Of course that was when they treated you like you had paid for your ticket and they were interested in you repeating the deal. When they had 911 everyone was afraid to go up in airplanes for awhile. I had planned a re-union for the LSM330 in Tampa, Florida. I had asked my brother Ronald to go with me. He had done so much work on the Book of Remembrance for the 50th get together, and all the men wanted to meet him. Jays health wasn't good at the time. Paul offered to take care of his Dad and Ronald said he would meet me.
Little did either of us know what we had in store for us. Meeting was not one of those things still allowed. Normally, his plane arriving well before mine, he could come and meet me when I got off my flight. NO that was not allowed. The terminal was in a mess. National Guard everywhere with their guns, etc. Lines checking in and trying to find ther connections. I was able to get a page for Ronald. He paged back that he would meet me at a shuttle station. We would join up there so we could get our rental car and get to the Hotel in Tampa. It was a hair raising experience to say the least, but I felt safe flying. After all it had only been a month, and I was sure they wouldn't try anything that soon after 911.
Ronald saw me before I saw him. We were able to get a phone to make arrangements to have someone pick us up to get a car. They were not allowing cars to come into the terminal where we got out. We waited for the pickup car and then went to the Rental Office. By now I was not sure any of this had been such a good idea. We were able to get a car, by now it is dark, neither Ron or I had been in this part of the country before. We got directions to the road we needed to take to get to our destination. Not too short of a drive either, I can tell you.
Something interesting about the Florida Freeways. They don't have that many off ramps. If you miss the one you are looking for, like us, you may have to travel 20 miles to find the next one. Well we finally found an offramp, a mini market, and a Arab that could hardly speak so we knew what he was telling us. Between the two of us we got enough information to find our way back the way we had traveled to the off ramp we needed. Of course I turned right when I should have turned left. When we didn't find the Hotel we were to meet the rest of the group at,
we decided we should turn around. We found a well lite bank parking lot, rechecked our map and headed back the way we had come. Still no Hotel. By now I am tired, and in my usual less that happy mode. It was time to get gas. I spoted a gas station and decided we should stop and
make a phone call. Maybe they could tell me where I was and how to get to where they were.
As I am pumping the gas I chance to look up and see the Hotel across the street. It was not on
the main drag, but on a secondary road just beyond the gas station. I never would have seen it if we hadn't decided to stop get gas and call.
Following the reunion (which was great) Ronald and I drove down to where our cousin Betty Hall Davis and her family had retired to. We had a great two day visit with them before we had to drive back to Orlando for our flights home. We had made arrangements for a Hotel across from the Airport for our last night in Florida. We returned the car just a few blocks from the Hotel and they took us to meet our flights. Ron was dropped off first and then I was left at the terminal for my departure. The same scene I had witnessed coming in was before me as I was trying to leave. Long lines trying to have your ID checked, your baggage gone through and your clearance to find where your plane was leaving. None of those terminals are small. I made it through all the check points and returned home in fair shape.
I have gone a time or two since, but find the hassel with security and baggage was a bit much. I got tired of people dragging their bags on the plane because they didn't want to check them through. Now if you don't drag a small bag, you have to pay for checking baggage. NO I think I will pass on Air Travel except for short hops. I'm too old to hussle to get from one connection to another, or to drag a bag, or try to put what I will need in somethings small enough I don't have to take too big a bag. Driving may take longer, but you know, I can get some thing to eat when I am hungry and go to the bathroom when I need to without waiting my turn. If I want a bottle of water, or some juice to drink I can get a full portion from a mini mart while I gas up. None of this 1/4 can of pop for what they charge. The last time I left Chicago Airport, I wasn't going to get a meal. If you wanted to eat, you had to bring it on board. I am not sure they will even allow that anymore.
Well it really doesn't matter. I doubt I get further away from home than where the girls are living now, and we can drive there. I do love going on the train. It is kind of nostalgic to climb on a train and have a compartment where you can kick back and not have someone breathing down your neck. Yes, I believe I'll pass on the flying. All the fun it was and the great times I had are no longer out there to enjoy. Security has turned into a personal nightmare. I don't have anything to hide, but I sure don't care to have everything I want to use while I am away from home to be checked, double checked or questioned. After all - I travel for pleasure, and there is very little pleasure in what goes on these days.
Written this 17th of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
No comments:
Post a Comment