Old age sucks. Memories fade. So I thought I would write this story down before more of my memories of it fade away. This is about my longest flight.
I was working for Metheus Corporation at the time. Metheus was building computer workstations used for designing VLSI chips. I was a marketing engineer at the time. Dec 7th, 1983 my boss asked me if I would go to Israel to demo our systems at a trade show. That was the same day that a Palestinian terrorist bombed a Jerusalem bus killing four people. Since I didn’t believe in omens I said sure.
The company made my travel arrangements. I was routed through London, then Paris and then on to Tel Aviv, where the trade show was being held. The return trip was the same route. I can’t recall why I was routed through London, but I think I was there for a day or two doing some training.
At any rate, December 17th I landed in London. That was the day the IRA bombed Harrods department store. I started to seriously consider the wisdom of traveling overseas.
Eventually I made it to Tel Aviv. The company had been too late to register to exhibit in the trade show. So they shipped a system to the hotel I was staying in. I was supposed to install the system in my room and demonstrate it for potential customers. It was a good plan, except for the part where the system got hung up in Israeli customs. I was left to demonstrate the system using colored chalk on a black board. It was only the last day of the show when I was able to get the system out of customs and installed in the room.
At least my private life was doing better. I met a young Israeli woman in the hotel restaurant. She was a waitress. She offered to take me to Jerusalem, to the old city and the wailing wall. So we took a Sherut (it was an eight seater Mercedes), which is a taxi service that is something between a taxi and a bus, taking multiple passengers. It was pretty cool doing all of my Christmas shopping that year in Jerusalem and then saying a prayer at the Wailing Wall.
So despite the bombings, the trip was pretty uneventful and enjoyable. But the return trip home turned out to be quite a trip. It started with me getting to the airport on the Sabbath. I can’t remember if I was flying out that day, or if I was just checking on my return trip. Regardless, when I got to the airport all of the ticket counters were closed. I think that I was flying on TWA. At any rate, finding the ticket counter unstaffed I found a door marked TWA and knocked on it and then entered.
Now if you have never listened to Israelis argue, you have missed an experience. I hand my tickets to a man in the office and try to explain that I am ready to head back to the states. He looks at the tickets, motions me to stay there, and goes into another office shutting the door. Then after a moment I hear shouting and arguing. I am standing there wondering “Ok, what now?” I have no idea what the issue is, or what is going on. All I know is that they now have my tickets home.
After awhile they come out. It turns out that my return tickets were for Tel Aviv to Paris to London to New York to St Louis to Portland. Well they were arguing over the leg to London since there was a direct flight from Paris to New York. Some of them were arguing to change my ticket and others to keep it the way it was. Finally they decided to ask me. Since I didn’t need to go to London I had them change it.
So I finally headed home on Saturday December 24th. I don’t remember anything significant from Tel Aviv to Paris to New York. The trouble started in New York. They were in the middle of a blizzard. The low that day was 12 degrees. We could not board the plane because the jet-way was frozen. After hours waiting they finally got the jet-way moved to the plane and let us board. At that time there was smoking sections on airplanes, and despite asking for a non-smoking seat they had placed me between two smokers. Fortunately I was able to get moved to a non-smoking seat. And against all odds, I was seated next to an attractive young woman. In those days there were no cell phones or laptops, and people actually would talk with each other.
Well we were stuck on the tarmac for over two hours waiting to take off. It turned out that someone fueled the plane for a flight to San Francisco instead of St. Louis so we sat waiting for them to de-fuel the plane. About six hours late we finally took off. It was a very enjoyable flight. The woman was an editor for a magazine (I think it was Better Homes and Gardens) and we talked the entire flight. She was headed for Denver.
As we landed in St Louis six hours behind schedule I am thinking of asking her to dinner and whatever. But as I walk off the jet and up to the ticket counters I hear my name on the loud speaker. They were holding my connecting flight for me and it was right there at the next gate. I was shocked. I said goodbye to the woman and dashed to board the jet to Portland.
It is now late in the evening. We are headed to Portland. Most everyone falls asleep. Then sometime late the pilot comes over the intercom with the following announcement. “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We are currently flying into a 200 mph headwind and do not have enough fuel left to make it even to Spokane, much less Portland. So we are going to divert the aircraft and attempt a landing in Denver. Denver is currently experiencing a snow storm. If you are traveling with children it may be a good time to wake them up and make sure they are securely strapped in.” That is, to my recollection, a fairly accurate quote. It isn’t something that you forget.
Even though Denver was having a snow storm the landing was easy. I think because the air was full of snow. We just drifted down. I remember thinking how ironic it was that I was in Denver while most probably my female companion on the previous leg, who was trying to get to Denver, was most likely stuck in St. Louis. I assumed that we would be stuck in Denver, but to my surprise a fuel truck pulled up to the plane and a man got out and started to refuel the plane. He looked like the Michelin man all bundled up against the cold. You could see his breath as he refueled the plane. I assume he was swearing at us.
We took off for the last leg to Portland. When we got to Portland, Portland Airport was experience 45 mile per hour crosswind gusts. Apparently there are two different techniques for landing under those conditions. One is the turn the plane into the wind, the other is to tilt the plane. We tilted and the pilot made a three point landing, landing first on one rear wheel, then the other, and finally the nose gear. The cabin gave the pilot an ovation.
The entire journey home about 22 hours. We landed around 1 am on Christmas day.