Wendy Sue Knecht - Life, Love, and a Hijacking: My Pan Am Memoir

Love, and a

By Wendy Sue Knecht

Copyright 2015 Wendy Sue Knecht

All rights reserved.

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Dedicated to the wonderful memory of my mother,Ellie

my best friend and gypsy mentor. She lived life tothe fullest

and didnt waste a minute. Im sure shes out theretraveling

somewhere in the universe, no doubt flying FirstClass.

To my sister Kathy Lerner for her great advice andencouragement in not only helping me get the job, but also foradvising me to moisturize like crazy in those dry cabins.

To Eileen Koster and Annie Nichols for starting thisadventure.

To Collette Liantonio for her steadfast support andinspiration, and for providing an amazing venue to write the toughparts.

To Mark Perchanok for all the constructive reads,counseling, and his sense of humor.

To my editor Pamela Leigh and designer Margaret RoseCaro for their expert guidance, encouragement, and enthusiasm.

To Lyndsay Knecht, Chris Bittle, and AmySchottenstein for all their creative talentthe best relativesever!

To Julie Krasner and Joe Belfatto for being there,always.

To my extended Pan Am family, who remain my closefriends and who on a daily basis made being a Pan Am FlightAttendant the most memorable job on the planet.

And lastly, to my sexy husband Dr. Kalman Edelmanand Delta Airlines for keeping the travel dream alive.

Contents

I looked at my ticket to the Pan American WorldAirways Honolulu Training Center at least once a day. I couldntbelieve I got the job.

Friends and family were awestruck when I gotmy letter of acceptance. Wow, Pan Am! Everyone knew they only tookthe cream of the crop. And then there were travel benefitsfreeflights for the entire family. My mother could hardly containherself.

It was the last semester of my senior yearat the University of Arizona. I desperately wanted to travel afterI graduated, but having no funds and not being one of the bornrich, I had to get creative.

I devised a brilliant plan: I would apply toan international airline for a job as a flight attendant, fly for acouple of years, then go back and get my masters degree. The ideaof being a stewardess didnt appeal to me. The idea of being aninternational flight attendantambassador to the world with travelbenefitscertainly did.

I had the requisite two years of college,proficiency in a second language (well, two semesters of collegeSpanish), and I (barely) cleared the five-foot-two-inch minimumheight requirement. I could only hope my weight was in proportionto height, whatever that meant. I would take no chances with myweight, however, and began my regimen of self-deprivationimmediately after submitting my application. I counted the caloriesof every morsel of food that went into my mouth. At any given timeof day, I could give you the tally of my caloric intake.

Living in Tucson was also a big advantage. Ilistened to the Spanish radio station day and night. I watchedSpanish television stations and tried to think only in Spanish. Ireally wanted this job. I would do anything.

All the prep work paid off. I passed myfirst interview with flying colors. My head hit the line onthe wall for the five-foot-two-inch height minimum as I stoodthere, erect as possible, petrified. My shining moment in thepreliminary Spanish test: reciting por favor, tiene que ponersu equipaje abajo del asiento al frente de usted (please putyour hand luggage under the seat in front of you).

The most horrifying aspect of the interviewwas the bone caliper test (gasp), during which I was informed thatI had a small frame. The bone caliper test measures bone structureand thus determines where you fall on the weight range scale.Fortunately, my weight of 110 pounds was within the confines of theweight in proportion to height requirement for hiring. Yearslater I would get the pleasure of administering the famed calipertest to other anxious, would-be flight attendants when I was onassignment in the Recruiting Department. Can you sayschadenfreude?

By the time I had my third and finalinterview at the Pan Am headquarters in San Francisco, I was anemaciated 104 pounds, and I could speak Spanish like a Seoritaorat least with enough proficiency to slide by.

Right after my final weigh-in, I wentimmediately to the Safeway and raced through the aisles with glee.I grabbed a crusty sourdough loaf and shoveled it in with one handand picked up a bag of Fig Newtons with the other. As quickly as Icould rip a bag open, I would devour it. No way could I make it tocheckout first. I was in an eating frenzy, insatiable. Even anapple (80 calories) was a delicacy to me.

Now, the only thing standing between me andPan Am training was getting the required immunization shots. I hada serious needle phobia, but I suffered through it as a testamentto how desperately I wanted the job. Small pox, diphtheria,typhoid, tetanusand all on the same day. I thought I would diebefore I ever made it on the plane. The sheer terror of the shotsnotwithstanding, my arms were sore for days. If anyone so much asbrushed by me, I practically went through the roof. It was quite aninitiation to the elite club.

When I arrived at training I couldntbelieve the caliber of women who were my fellow trainees. They werea seriously worldly lot and included foreign service brats anddaughters of diplomats. Many of them had been raised in all partsof the globe, or at the very least had spent their junior year incollege abroad. There was Andrea, a Swedish national, and Gabriele,a German national, and most of the other trainees had traveledextensively to foreign lands. The most exotic place I had ever beenwas camping in Mexico on spring break. My worldly adventures up tothat point consisted of sitting around a Mexican campgrounddrinking tequila with my friends from the University of Arizonaandpretty much nothing else. I felt like Gidget.

Our six-week training class at Pan AmsHonolulu Training Center might as well have been in Detroit, exceptfor the palm trees. We were based at the airport, stayed at theairport hotel, and had a 10:00 p.m. curfew every night. Some of thetrainees were wild, breaking the rules every chance they could.There was Sandy sleeping with Ted (they actually got married yearslater), drinking alcohol in the rooms (strictly prohibited), andsurreptitious forays into Honolulu.

I, however, became known as the classgoodie-goodie, adhering to the letter of the law. There was noway I would take a chance of not getting through training. Intraining you could be sent home at the drop of a hat, no secondchances, no excuses. Until you were off the six-month probationperiod, everything was fair game. I didnt dare do anything tojeopardize graduation. Fun could wait.

The uniform fitting could have been awedding dress fitting the way the seamstresses made such a fuss.When I was given my very own sky blue, Edith Head-designed uniform,it was like a dream. My eyes welled up with tears when I looked inthe mirror wearing my Scottie hat, tunic, and belt with the iconicPan Am blue ball buckle. Wearing that uniform made me feel partof something really big and important, as if I were part of a royalfamily. I had made it!