The first time I flew, I had just had my 5th birthday, my older brother had his 8th three days after mine, and my younger brother had just been born, and in two days it would be Halloween. It was years before I made the connection between that first trip - to Disneyland with my older brother and my father - that we’d left the day after my mother, and my then new-born brother had come home from the hospital. I remember that flight more than I would remember our stay there, and our visiting Disneyland had it not been for the photographs my father took. What I remember about the flight - on a TWA plane - was that I was sitting next to an older couple, I had no idea where my older brother was sitting, and my father was the pilot. The older couple kept insisting I should be sitting with my parents, and called the flight attendant over. She asked if I knew where my mother was, and I told her she wasn’t on the plane. The older woman huffed at that. Then she asked where my father was, and, in tears, I said he was flying the plane. I was immediately moved to a seat alone by a window. Later on, my father came back to check on me sometime after we’d reached altitude, and after that, I was invited by the flight attendants working that flight to join them in their private space, with a small-ish semi-circular couch. There I was taught the whole ‘drill’ that we all have heard by now, “in case of emergency” etc.
When I saw this title and the cover, I knew I wanted to read this. Ann Hood joined TWA in the 1970’s, and began working as a flight attendant during the glory days of TWA, an era when people would still dress up to fly, and flying had become more commonplace than in earlier years. My mother had been an ’Air Hostess’ for PCA Capital Airlines, and although I rarely heard stories about those days from her, somewhere I have a copy of a telegram sent to her by a male passenger, sent via her supervisor at Capital. So I wasn’t surprised to read about the amorous requests for dates from passengers, but there was more to this story than that. Long days, of course, but so much more. I was happily surprised when I read that Ann Hood had also worked as a flight attendant, albeit briefly, for Capital Airlines during a TWA strike.
Ann Hood had been obsessed with the idea of flight since she was young. The story of Laika, the dog that the Russians had launched into space in Sputnik 2, and the race to be the first in space was on the minds of everyone. For Halloween, Ann dressed as a space girl, wrapped in a costume made of aluminum foil and pipe cleaners for her antennae. As a young girl, her family would go to watch the progress being made as the new airport in Chantilly, Virginia was being built. It was another era, progress was being made - visibly - in the race for space, as well. When she was eleven, she read a book called ’How to Become an Airline Stewardess’ and was enamored with the idea of being able to have a career flying. At the age of sixteen, traveling with a friend, she flew for the first time. Her first ’great adventure.’ Another dream of hers was to become a writer, and with her belief that all writers needed to experience great adventures in order to have worthy tales to tell. Her desire to fly would, indeed, allow her many opportunities, many places to visit, and many stories to tell.
Thus began her love of flying, born in the years before TSA checkpoints, in the years when people could still meet you at the gate upon your arrival, or watch your plane as it taxied away from the gate, and watch as your plane took to the skies. The glamour of flying has faded somewhat over the years, more so after 9/11 and the last couple of years as reports of people needing to be restrained, or flights needing to land so an unruly passenger can find a more appropriate place to remain.
I loved every minute of reading this, even though I never dreamed of being a flight attendant, I loved reading her story, and the memories it brought back of the era, and more.
Published: 03 May 2022
Many thanks for the ARC provided by W.W. Norton & Company