Air Carolina, Part 3

By Ellis M. Chernoff

Photo credit as noted.

Flying the line for Air Carolina was a full-time job. For our salary, we were expected to cover scheduled flights six days per week and at least three round-trips per shift. Flying extra flights and a seventh day were not uncommon, but, did get pilots some extra pay. My preferred shift was the afternoon, giving me the morning to get personal stuff done. I also enjoyed night flying. When flying the Piper Navajos and Chieftains at night, you could see the glow of the exhaust system through a cowling grill. You could almost tell the fuel mixture and exhaust temperature by observing the brightness of the glowing pipes.

I also enjoyed hanging out with the night maintenance crew after I completed the last flight of the night and locked up the small airline terminal. With my prior experience working on general aviation planes and engines, I spoke the language of the technicians, and they enjoyed my company and insight into their work.

In addition to the fleet previously described, we also acquired an early production Britten-Norman BN-2A Islander. This plane had the same pilot plus nine passenger seat capacity as the Chieftain, but instead of two 350 HP engines, it had two 260 HP Lycomings like the Cherokee Six did.  A fat wing gave it plenty of lift, but it had fixed landing gear and was not much faster than the Cherokee. It was also cramped and loud, and did not have air conditioning. Waiting for takeoff clearance one hot summer afternoon, a lady in the back called out, “Hey Mister Pilot, turn on the air conditioning!”  She thought I was being cheap and not running it. I replied the plane didn’t have air conditioning, and she should be able to see that I was soaked in sweat just like everyone else. The Islander was generally on the Hickory-Charlotte run, so I only flew it occasionally.

We also acquired a late-model PA-34RT-300 Lance II. It was brand new on lease and had six very plush seats. Its handling characteristics were a bit strange compared to a Cherokee Six or older Lance models due to its “T-tail” configuration. Takeoffs were particularly tricky.

In 1978, I was tasked to be a charter manager in addition to my line flying duties. I would take phone calls and quote and schedule on-demand charters. Most of these flights were within the Carolinas and occasionally to Atlanta Hartsfield Airport. We had one pilot whose job was to fly these flights, which were often spur-of-the-moment affairs.

One day in October 1978, I was called in before my regular afternoon/evening runs to fly an extra section to Charlotte. For this flight, I drew the T-tailed Lance. After shutting down the engine in Charlotte, I would normally deplane the passengers and transfer their baggage to the connecting airline. Instead, I was met by a pilot who said a phone call had come in that the plane was needed back in Florence ASAP for a charter. So I flew the empty plane back to Florence as possible. 

Arriving back at home base, the boss jumped up and opened the door and said, “How would you like to make a quick hundred bucks?  We can’t find the charter pilot, and we already told the customer the plane was on the way to pick up cargo in Henderson.” While this was going on, the mechanics were removing the seats in the rear of the plane. I was told the cargo was going to Owasso, Michigan.  Charts were being brought to me and I had no time to plan anything. I fired up and took off toward Henderson, and arriving there, the cargo was waiting. “What took so long? What time will you get to Owasso?” While I started off in the direction of the destination, I had to figure out the routing while flying. And the weather was deteriorating, so changing from VFR to IFR was necessary.

Landing in Owasso, I was again greeted with “What took so long?  Here’s your return load, and when will you land in Henderson?” By now it was dark with hours remaining to fly. Again, I had to fly through a weather front with clouds and rain. At around 10:30pm, I broke out to clear skies with partial moonlight.  The aircraft, still with less than 300 hours total time, was running perfectly.

Over West Virginia, I left radar services with ATC and was now in the airspace of Pulaski Airport and their control tower. Still operating under Instrument Flight Rules, I made a position report a few minutes past 11pm. Suddenly, the noisy fan up front went to a whisper. It only took seconds for me to realize that there were no indications on the instruments of engine trouble, and I had not done anything to cause the engine to suddenly quit. Of course, there are emergency procedures to perform and get the airplane to a stable glide.

Slowing to the prescribed glide speed, the automatic extension system for the landing gear activated, greatly increasing my descent rate. Piper provided an emergency override that I used to get the landing gear back in the retracted position. I had been cruising at 7000 feet, and by now I had declared an emergency with Pulaski approach control. They seemed stunned to hear my call and cleared me to 6000 feet, the lowest altitude they could assign given the Appalachian Mountains below me. My reply was “That’s nice, I’m out of 5 and a half.” I couldn’t maintain any altitude and was sure death was only a few minutes away.

When I did get quite low to the ground, I spotted an open farm field. I had continued in vain to restore power from the engine. I turned on the landing light and set the plane down on its belly. But I did slide beyond the barbed wire fence and through some trees, stopping just short of a steep hill leading down to a creek. The strobe lights were still flashing and I could still hear static in the headset. But there was also a strong smell of gasoline as three of the four fuel tanks had ruptured. While I felt no pain, I had a bloody open cut on my chin from the broken windscreen.

I got out and assessed my situation. As there was no fire, I went looking for the first aid kit that should have been in the cabin. It had been removed along with the seats that afternoon in Florence. My Boy Scout training told me not to wander off, but to stay with the wreck; I hunkered down for the night, expecting to be rescued sometime soon.

Without going into detail, many people dropped the ball that night and as a result, no rescue effort was underway. In fact, everyone except me had a full night’s sleep. Even the control tower staff filled out their paperwork, closed up shop, and went home. I had filed FAA flight plans with emergency contact information, but no one thought to look for that when I went down after declaring the emergency.

Things were better for me the next morning. I was taken to a local hospital. I had a phone conversation with my employer and they said they were sending a plane to get me. The FAA and NTSB sent investigators to the crash site, and I also went to the site to assist in my own accident investigation. The following day, I was given a hero’s welcome and all of my fellow pilots expressed the thought that I was probably the only one among them who could have survived a night forced landing in the mountains.

The technical investigation did not reveal the exact cause of the engine failure. But off the record, the NTSB investigator did admit there had been other occurrences on this aircraft type with the particular ignition system that was unique for a single-engine type. More disturbing was that had I been killed, they would have ruled it was pilot mismanagement of the fuel. That would have been totally false. Since there were no fatalities, no official cause was determined, and my crash became merely a hull loss statistic. The insurance company replaced the airplane for the owner with a used one and a check for the difference in value. He was happy.

Other adventures occurred during my two years with Air Carolina, but I will close out this retelling. By mid-1979, the major airlines were hiring again. Since they had not done so for quite some time, a cottage industry had developed where pilots seeking airline jobs would have to purchase their own training for a flight engineer certificate. Most airlines at that time operated the Boeing 727 with the flight engineer written exam based on that type. To be competitive, a prospect needed to not only to pass the flight engineer written exam, but also to complete the entire training course and pass the FAA check-ride in that crew position. Most of the pilots senior to me had left to pursue that path, and ultimately, I did the same.

Air Carolina, Part 2

By Ellis M. Chernoff

All Photos by the Author

Air Carolina, along with a number of other “Commuter Airlines”, entered into marketing agreements with major trunk air carriers. While some adopted the branding of the major, such as Allegheny, others retained their independent identity. Air Carolina offered ticketing and baggage on connections with all of the carriers operating at Charlotte Douglas Airport (CLT), but the closest relationship was with Eastern Airlines. Over ninety percent of Air Carolina’s passengers would be making connections with Eastern.

At the time, Eastern operated five banks of flights to and from major cities from a regional hub at CLT.  Oddly enough, these arrival and departure times dictated the published schedules of Air Carolina flights from Florence, S.C., and Hickory, N.C. The minimum connection times for a published connecting flight was 30 minutes. Therefore, the Air Carolina flight must be scheduled to arrive 30 minutes before the first departing Eastern Airlines flight. Likewise, the Air Carolina departure from CLT had to allow for 30 minutes after the last arrival of the Eastern flights. As a result, the published flight times had nothing to do with the actual flying time between the outstations and Charlotte!

At the time I worked there, the Air Carolina fleet consisted of PA-31-350 Chieftains, PA-31-310 Navajos, a PA-23-250 Aztec F, a PA-34-200 Seneca I, PA-32-260 Cherokee Six’s, a PA-28R-200 Arrow, and a PA-28-180 Warrior. Later a BN-2A Islander was added. 

There was no internet back in the 1970s, so telephones were used in the reservation department.  Reservations for each flight were handwritten on pages in 3-ring binders. The “reservation center” consisted of a small room in the hangar with a large glass window that looked like a fishbowl. We had four ladies who took the calls and booked the seats in the binders located on a lazy susan. Usually, two or three reservations agents were on duty at any given time.

The agents could book 21 confirmed seats on the five daily departures and return flights from Florence.  I recall the planes had a capacity of between three and nine passengers, depending upon the type. For each flight, there would be a lead pilot, several backup pilots standing by, and a mix of available planes.  The lead pilot would have to determine which plane, or planes, would be used depending upon the reservations in each direction and the passengers who would show up.  If a full twenty-one passengers were expected out of Florence, the first plane to be loaded and dispatched would hold the fewest number of seats and be the slowest. The Piper Warrior might go, followed by two Chieftains. If only 10 passengers were booked in both directions, two five-seat planes or one eight-seater plus a three-seater might go.

All of this made an appearance of a flying circus to the uninitiated passenger. Not only did each of the pilots need to be qualified and capable of flying any plane in the fleet, but they also had to load and unload the baggage and passengers personally. All flights were flown single-pilot, and the FAR 135 rules dictated duty and rest hours as well as weather criteria en route and at the destination, that was more restrictive than the general FAR 91 rules. There were times when no passengers could be carried, due to the weather, but the flights would position for the next scheduled leg. Hopefully, the weather would improve to allow a revenue flight.

Gate agents were only employed at Florence and Hickory. In Charlotte, the pilots manned the ticket counter, selling and pulling tickets, tagging baggage or receiving interline transfer bags, making PA announcements, and escorting the passengers to the plane. Again, for the initiated, seeing the “ticket agent” jumping into the pilot seat must have been a surprise. The Charlotte counter also had a telephone, but it was locked up and unmanned between flights. The company also maintained a P.O. Box at the Charlotte airport.

Flights were generally operated under Visual Flight Rules (VFR). At the time, neither Florence nor Hickory had radar for their approach control.  En route, ATC did not have radar coverage below about 7,000 feet.  While an Instrument Flight Rules (IFR) operation was allowable, it could result in more than doubling the block-to-block time and result in many passengers missing their connecting flights. Therefore, instrument clearances were only obtained when necessary. During many months, thunderstorms prevailed in the Carolinas, and a great deal of experience and expertise was gained visually dodging showers and severe conditions. Only a few of the planes had weather radar. We learned to correlate the radar displayed conditions with what we could observe out of the windscreen. This valuable experience would stand me in good stead throughout my future career. One time, I flew a load of passengers through a hundred miles of tornado warning safely and didn’t even know about the severe weather alert.

During my time at Air Carolina, I endeavored to improve several aspects of the operation. As I described the weight and balance process in Part 1, I considered this totally bogus. This, combined with the standard fuel loading in practice with what I arrived at, resulted in nearly every flight departing significantly overloaded. To reduce the exposure to overloading, I examined the actual fuel consumption and requirements to reduce the fuel burden when conditions were favorable to operating with minimum fuel.  In addition, I produced a series of standard passenger and baggage loading schedules for each individual plane in the fleet.

Another technical aspect that I addressed was engine operation. In aviation, a long-standing practice was for someone to “check you out” in an unfamiliar type. This type of training could result in “rules of thumb” and “procedures” that differed from what was specified by the engine and airplane manufacturer. I obtained my own set of manuals and other documents from the sources and found many of the power settings being used were incorrect. Correct and precise operation of advanced engines, such as the Lycoming TIO-J2BD in the Chieftain, was necessary not only to achieve optimum fuel economy but also service life of the components.

Many owners and operators of these engines, even today, think the way they operate them is more conservative. In truth, running them too rich and too cool can have a detrimental effect on the turbochargers and associated components. Having all of our pilots operate the engines exactly the same way, and as prescribed by Lycoming, resulted in excellent reliability. I could tell just by observing the color of the exhaust pipe if the engine was being operated correctly. The spark plugs rarely fouled, and we had no misbehaving engines.

Previously, I mentioned the ticket counter at the Charlotte airport. Ours was a small counter situated with those of Piedmont, Southern, United, and Delta. Once, a customer approached me at the counter and asked, “When is your flight from Frankfurt arriving?”  I said, “We only fly to Florence and Hickory.”  No flights were arriving at this airport from Europe. This was an example of one of the many times we were perceived as the central information counter. It was amusing as Air Carolina and Wheeler Airlines were two tiny local commuter lines.

On another occasion, I had a couple of customers in line purchasing tickets. A third gentleman was in line, and when it was his turn to be served, he started by grabbing me by my necktie and accusing me of being rude to him. He left the counter in a huff and went to Avis to rent a car instead of taking our flight.  He filed a complaint with my employer and I was called on the carpet to answer. What we concluded was the man’s company had sent him on this trip and booked him with the connection from an Eastern flight. There was no way he wanted to ride on a small plane with a young single pilot.  By making a scene and complaining, he could justify the expense of the rental car to his employer.

Stay tuned for Part 3, Flying the line for Air Carolina.

Air Carolina Part 1

By Ellis M. Chernoff

All Photos by the Author

The year is 1977. It was the year following my graduation from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University (ERAU). I had returned to California and resumed flight instructing while applying to every airline in the country. During the summer, I bought a bunch of airline tickets and, wearing a nice navy-blue suit, visited the offices of a half-dozen airlines attempting to get my foot in the door. I had a four-year degree, my FAA certificates, and log books full of plenty of hours. Yet, my long-sought goal was not realized. I returned home disappointed that every employer wanted what I didn’t have and didn’t value what I had or my potential.

In September, I received a phone call from one of my fellow university students. Telling him about my recent travels and efforts to get an airline job, he asked, “Do you want a job?” Like a line of ERAU students before us, Lou was flying for a very small commuter airline based in Florence, South Carolina. I couldn’t be choosy at this point and said that I’ll be there as soon as I can drive across country.

I arrived in Florence tired and grubby and was enthusiastically greeted by the executives and staff. Air Carolina was a Piper Aircraft dealer, flight school, and ran a scheduled commuter airline. They also flew on-demand charter, along with a contract with the military. In fact, I was hired to captain a Navajo Chieftain that was in Ohio, operating flights for the US Air Force mainly between Wright-Patterson AFB and Dobbins AFB in Georgia. The passengers were commuting in support of a major modification of the C-5A Galaxy fleet.

Before I could assume my duties on the Chieftan, I had to be trained and certified by Air Carolina on their FAR 135 certificate. I familiarized myself with the operations manual and operations specifications approved by the FAA. Of course, I also studied the manual of the Piper Navajo Chieftain, and I was invited to ride right seat on the scheduled airline flights if an open seat was available. My first opportunity to do this came the second evening with a captain whom I had known at the university. He walked me through the filing of the flight plan, servicing of fuel load, and preparation of the weight and balance form. The process was one I had never seen. It was a series of subtractions from the maximum gross weight of passenger and crew weights, fuel, and whatever was left was considered “baggage”. On paper, we would only carry 20 pounds of baggage, yet we would fill four baggage compartments to the brim. And passengers were all counted at 160 pounds, despite them obviously weighing more than that. This is all “FAA Approved”.

The same authority would allow the airline to train me in a Piper PA-34 Seneca, and that would qualify me to fly any of the Piper twin-engine models. I had obtained my multiengine rating in the Piper Apache, and the Seneca was much more modern and better equipped. Taking my first flight in that plane, something strange was evident. Upon establishing the engines in cruise power, I could only close one cowl flap while the other engine would overheat unless its cowl flap was left fully open. I asked the instructor/chief pilot about this, and he told me that it had been this way since they overhauled the engines.

The next day, my training flight was cancelled because the Seneca was in the hangar for its required 100-hour inspection and maintenance. I gave the plane a good looking over while the mechanics were working on it to be more familiar with its workings. Interestingly, I discovered that the cylinder temperature sensors were not correctly installed. I had worked on airplanes as an apprentice throughout my pilot training years under the supervision of licensed A&P mechanics. I had installed many overhauled engines on multiple types of general aviation planes.

I completed my Seneca checkout but was scheduled for my FAR 135 check-ride in a Piper Navajo B, which I had not yet flown. Again, I was offered a “fly along” the night before, and perhaps the pilot would let me fly a leg if the return had no revenue passengers. I joined Captain Craig in the right seat of N9192Y for the flight to Charlotte on a dark and rainy night. I noticed that he carried no navigation charts and he flew the route from memory.

After delivering our load of mail to the post office at the Charlotte Douglas Airport, we returned to the ramp and he offered me the left seat for the return flight. I started the engines, he worked the radio, and we taxied out for takeoff. I was directed to stop at an intersection of Runway 18. I questioned him about intersection takeoffs, and he responded that they always used that intersection. When I started the engine run-up procedure, he asked why I was doing that. I replied that I always perform a run-up after any engine shutdown.

Cleared for takeoff, we roared down the runway and I selected Landing Gear UP once airborne. Suddenly, the plane swerved to the right. Thinking a throttle had slipped back, I checked that all engine controls were still full forward and they were. About this time, Craig said, “I have it,” and he took control of the aircraft and immediately started a turn to the right. I asked, “What are you doing?” He replied, “Turning back”. At not much more than 150 feet in the air, I was looking through the right side window at the terminal building and the parking lot. Clearly, the right engine was not producing power, and the left engine was trying to flip us over. A turn into the dead engine is exactly what we are all trained to NEVER DO.

I’m looking at the flight instruments as we are in a right bank with speed and altitude decreasing. In this dangerous attitude, we penetrate the overcast and Craig returns the controls to me. Engine out and unusual attitude recovery. Certainly the truest test of my flying. Yes, I get things sorted out, and the Tower asks if we’re having difficulty. Craig says to me, “Look at that!” I asked, “Is it bad?” Of course it was, so I said, “Feather that engine,” which he did. But he didn’t tell the Tower that we had lost an engine, only telling the controller that we wanted to return to the airport. They asked, “What approach would you like?” and Craig looked at me. I replied, “What’s the weather?” The answer only gave the choice for an ILS to Runway 5. The Captain had not brought any charts, so I directed him to set up the radios while I continued to fly.

The approach to Runway 5 was to minimums and I made the single-engine landing. But while taxiing back to the ramp, Craig tried to un-feather the propeller. He didn’t want anyone to see it!

The following day back in Florence, I got a hero’s welcome, but I still had to take the scheduled check-ride. I mentioned that surely my performance the night before, with a real engine failure and single-engine instrument approach to minimums, should suffice to prove my competence. “Did you do a missed approach?” Of course not, so I still had to perform the check-ride.

This was my introduction to big-time airline flying. The next two years would include many more challenges and seasoning that changed me from a pleasure pilot into a professional.

In summary and in reference to the above episode, the Piper PA-31-310 Navajo B is an 8-place executive twin equipped with Lycoming TIO-540 A1A engines that produce 310 hp. The four aircraft of this type in the Air Carolina fleet all had 2-blade propellers. While everyone at Air Carolina assumed the engine that failed on my flight was a high-time engine, in truth, it had recently been overhauled. A piston pin failed and allowed its associated connecting rod to flail in the engine case and punch a hole the size of one’s fist through the top of the case. This resulted in the loss of all of that engine’s oil; the propeller actually feathered itself as a consequence of the oil pressure loss.

Stay tuned for Early Codeshare, Air Carolina Part 2.

By Phil Brooks

As a lifelong resident of Indianapolis, IN, and a volunteer IND Airport Ambassador, when the announcement was made that Aer Lingus would start service on May 3, 2025, between Dublin, Ireland (DUB), and Indianapolis, I knew I had to be on the first flight! Because of my work schedule, and the flight loads, I chose the westbound inaugural flight.

Using my benefits as an airline employee, I positioned myself on my own airline to Dublin, arriving on May 2, where I enjoyed a day in this wonderful city, full of friendly people. This was my first time logging DUB airport.

My overnight stay was at the Carlton Hotel, on the southeast corner of the airport. They have a restaurant on the top floor overlooking the airport, so it was a natural choice!

On May 3, I was traveling on an Industry Discount ticket, so was directed to a staff check-in desk in Terminal 2, where I was presented with a boarding pass and seat assignment. I knew the flight was wide open, but it’s always nice to have that in my hand early. As I was leaving the area, I saw a young lady wearing an Indiana Pacers hat – of course, she was also on the inaugural flight!   

I tried using my Priority Pass card to get into the “Liffey Lounge”, but was turned away, as it was full. It was just as well, as I needed to proceed with the formalities.

DUB has U.S. Customs and Border Patrol pre-clearance, which is a great selling point for this flight, as it arrives in the U.S. as a domestic flight.  Unfortunately, I was directed to the wrong queue, and waited for 15 minutes when I shouldn’t have had to wait, as a U.S. citizen.   

EI83 DUB-IND A321neo XLR EI-XLT Seat 16F

The gate area was being prepared for the inaugural ceremonies when I arrived, and I spent the two hours before departure meeting airport and Aer Lingus personnel, and participating in the event. Also, there were donuts!  

There was a display that passengers could stand in front of for photographs, so I took advantage of that. I made several contacts, including the airport’s Director, Business Development Vice President, and Aer Lingus Sales and Crew Members. This flight crew would have a two night layover in Indy, so the flight attendants were happy to hear my ideas on things to do! The service is four times weekly, and is subsidized in part by Indiana entities.

Several officials made short speeches, and there was a ceremonial ribbon cutting.

I had been assigned seat 10A, but wanted to change to an F seat to stay out of the sun for our Atlantic crossing. Unfortunately, skies were cloudy below us, during the overwater portion. The gate agent told me I could just change on board, since it was a light load (the flight was booked almost full on the return, another reason for me to not try THAT flight). When I boarded, the lead flight attendant, checking his manifest, suggested row 16, as it was empty on the D/E/F side. Perfect! The flight attendants came around to make sure nothing was on the seats for takeoff. I had never heard of or seen this restriction.

We departed 15 minutes early at 2:30pm, and took off 19 minutes later from RW28R. The passenger load was 16/16 and 91/168. 

During the climb out, the seat belt sign was turned off, so I visited the lavatory before inflight service started. In one of them, the unmounted soap dispenser had fallen into the toilet on takeoff, and one of the flight attendants had to fish it out of the bowl (wearing rubber gloves, of course). The glamour of being a flight attendant!

There are three lavatories in the aft of the aircraft; one on the aircraft’s left, and two against the rear bulkhead. One of them doubles as the back of a flight attendant jumpseat.  Gaining entrance, when the jumpseat is not occupied, requires turning a small doorknob which is not very obvious, and certainly not intuitive.

I enjoyed a Carlsberg Lager and crisps (Guinness was not available!), and then a mid-afternoon lunch (a Mexican beef and rice dish, which was spicy but good). There was a choice of beef, chicken or vegetarian entree. After reading an issue of “Airways” magazine (brought along, as it is required reading on airline flights!), I worked a bit on my laptop until fatigue (or the excitement?) finally overtook me. I didn’t take advantage of the video programming, but had music playing to help me sleep. I did enjoy the moving map display, as always.

I napped off and on for two hours, and then got productive again, typing up this and another trip report. A cold turkey sandwich (cheese was another option) was delivered two hours out from IND. It did the trick, but was unsurprisingly a little dry.  

Service was very good, and every Aer Lingus employee I met was extremely friendly.  

A few notes about the aircraft: The cabin was extremely quiet, so much that I could hear other conversations easily. One thing that disturbed the quiet was when passengers stowed their tray tables. The design of the seat compels the user to slam the tray against the seat back in order to lock it into place, which would be quite noticeable to the occupant in the seat in front. It’s not the type of tray table latch I am used to, which is silent.  Overhead bins are very large. This was my first time on the XLR. It’s always a treat when I log a new airplane type and a new airport on the same trip!

The Captain came on the PA about an hour out of Indianapolis, and a little late, gave us the route of flight. He (this was a two-man crew) thanked us for being on the inaugural flight to Indy. 

I have flown more than 7,000 flights and had previously logged only one other inaugural: ATA’s June 14, 1986, JFK-BQN (Borinquen, Puerto Rico) flight. I was an ATA Consumer Affairs employee and was thrilled to be on TZ61, operated by Lockheed L-1011 N187AT. I did the round trip, returning on TZ60.

Finally, about 30 minutes out, I “shut down” for the rest of the flight.  I needed to recover some energy for 90 minutes of “first arrival and first departure” activity at IND!

We landed on RW05R after a flight of 8:20, and blocked in at 6:16pm local time, four minutes early.  It was cloudy with occasional sprinkles of rain, but that didn’t dampen the celebration.
There was no water cannon salute by the airport’s fire department, but a truck was parked near the gate, for use for that purpose on the departure.  There were, however, many airport and airline employees on the ramp to welcome us!  

We parked at an international gate, A4, even though we were pre-cleared. This facilitated the ceremonies, at it is a large area, with no other activity at that time (other than a Southwest flight from Cancun, whose passengers did not enter the gate area, taking the escalator directly down to U.S. Customs and Immigration). They were probably shocked at the crowd they witnessed!

I let the passengers seated behind me deplane, as I wanted to get some photos of the interior without passengers in view. I finally deplaned, after thanking the crew, and was met in the gate area with applause! It wasn’t just for me, it was for all the arriving passengers, but I thought it was a nice touch. When Delta inaugurated their IND-Paris CDG service on May 24, 2018, the first flight’s aircraft ferried up from Atlanta, so there was no arrival ceremony to coincide with the departure.

My wife Pam, a fellow IND “Airport Ambassador”, was there, recording my triumphant return. I joined her and we watched the festivities, along with our friends Sara and Dan Gradwohl, also there for the occasion. There were speeches given by airport, Aer Lingus and government officials from Ireland, and I had just missed a performance by a local group of Irish dancers, as well as live music.  We were told there are 200,000 people in the Indianapolis area who identify as having Irish heritage.  

I was able to meet and talk with many of the people present- it was a great day for IND, Aer Lingus, and for me!

Enjoy the photo gallery below. All photos by the author, except where noted.

By Charles Dolan

It has been quite a while since I contributed to the Captain’s Log, so I decided to use our forced “time out” at the hands of Tropical Storm Nicole to dust the cobwebs off my collection and share some images. My last writings covered Central and South America, and I felt it was time to put the spotlight on Mexico. 

When I worked at Baltimore Airport (BWI) from 1986 to 2002,, Mexicana operated regular services using Boeing 727s and, at peak times, DC-10 aircraft. Compania Mexicana de Aviacion, S.A. de C.V. had a long history going back to 1921. As I recall, their service was pretty reliable, and the passengers seemed satisfied.

 Winter sun seekers and college (and some high school) spring breakers often flew on Mexican non-scheduled or charter carriers. Some were good, some less so, but we worked them all, and the merry-makers went south to tan and came home to resume their studies.  One airline that sticks in my mind was AeroCancun, which had modern equipment and a set of insignia that I still covet for my collection. Their Jefe de Pilotos assured me that he would bring me a set on his next trip,  but even though we met several times after that, the silver, white and turquoise wings and cap badge never materialized.

 Sad tale over, here are those insignia that I did manage to obtain over the years. Certainly, CMA / Mexicana and later Aviacsa, LaTur, Aeromar Allegro and TEASA passed through BWI, most aquisitions were the result of letters addressed to the main bases of the airlines featured or purchases on eBay.

Enjoy our quick trip south of the border.

Mexican Carrier Insignias

AEROMEXICO – Aeronaves de Mexico/Aerovias de Mexico (AM / AMX)

1934-present. Adopted name AEROMEXICO in 1972. Two versions are shown below.

AEROMAR – Transportes Aeromar S.A. de C.V. (VW / TAO)

1987 – present.

Allegro – LineasAereas Allegro (LL / GRO)

1992 – 2004.

AVIACSA – Consorcio Aviaxsa S.A. de C.V. (GA / CHP)

1990 – 2011.

MEXICANA – Compania Mexicana de Aviacion, S.A. de C.V. – Mexicana de Aviacion (MX / MXA)

1921 – 2010. Three styles of insignia are shown below.

Interjet – ABC Aerolineas, S.A. de C.V., (4O / AIJ)

2005 – 2020.

LaTur – Lineas Aereas LaTur (WC / LUR)

1998 – 1992. Absorbed by TAESA

TAESA – Transportes Aereos Ejecutivos S.A. (GD / TEJ)

1988 – 2000.

Volaris – Concesionaria Vuela Compania de Aviacion S.A.P.I. de C.V. ( Y4 / VOI)

2005 – present.

By Fons Schaefers

In 1977 I had the rare opportunity to fly on a flying boat reminiscent of times gone by. The boat was a 1943-built Short Sandringham named Southern Cross and registered as VP-LVE. It was operated by Antilles Air Boats. Both that year and the year before, it came all the way from St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands in the Caribbean to England to do some pleasure flights.

Preparations

When I received the “week ending 27 August 1977” edition of Flight International, this article caught my attention:

In the classified advertisement section of that same issue there was more information:

Wow. How nice it would be to enjoy such a pleasure flight! Er, why not try it? I called a spotting mate to see if he would like to join me. The answer was yes, very much. My issue of Flight had arrived on Saturday, August 27. The flights would start on Thursday, September 1, so I knew I had to be quick. I lived in the Netherlands, not England, so this meant I had some organizing to do.

On Tuesday, I called the Dorset number, or rather, I had a post office do that for me. It was the first time I made an international call, and, how could I know what the Blandford Dorset telephone code was? (The internet did not exist at the time, let alone Google.) The guy on the phone – I think he worked for, or even was, M.M. Aviation – said he had seats available for Monday afternoon, September 5, around 2:00 pm and we should report in Calshot on time. With that confirmation in the pocket, we arranged train tickets from Amsterdam to Southampton.

Late on Sunday, September 4, I left home, joined my pal and rode the train to Hoek van Holland to catch the night ferry from Hoek to Harwich. In London, we transferred from Liverpool Street station to Waterloo station by Tube (metro). In Southampton, we took a bus through the New Forest to Calshot village, arriving about 1:00 pm. There, we saw the Sandringham in the distance, between trees, floating in the water between the English coast and the Isle of Wight.

Next, we walked over to Calshot pier, the former RAF flying boat base, but found it deserted. However, soon after, a bus appeared full of air enthusiasts and the MM representative. Unbeknownst to us, they had assembled at a meeting point in Southampton. The representative was happy to see us, fearing we had not made it.

The airplane had arrived from Ireland on Friday around 17:30 pm. There were no flights over the weekend. Our flight was the first one on Monday afternoon. In the morning, there had been a flight for the press and other invitees. During that week, there were 17 flights in total, the last of which was on Friday, September 9. (On Tuesday, September 6, flights had to be cancelled because of low clouds.) Although Antilles Air Boats (AAB) was the operator, the boat was leased by Aer Arann, a small Irish airline normally flying between Galway, Ireland, and the three offshore Arann Islands. The ticket – or was it the boarding pass – mentioned “M. M. Aviation in conjunction with Antilles Air Boats” with no mention of Aer Arann. I assume their role was limited to some aeropolitical aspects while M.M. Aviation took care of local arrangements, sales and promotion. The fare was ₤19.50. According to the Bank of England, in 2024 this equals ₤112, or $143. Not only was this very cheap for a one-hour sightseeing flight, but when considering its unique and historical nature, it was a true bargain.

The Boat

A launch took us to the flying boat, which was moored quite a distance away. Calshot pier borders on Southampton Water, but for environmental reasons no permission had been obtained to use that. Rather, a stretch of water on the Solent abeam the Beaulieu river mouth (off Lepe) had been assigned.

We approached the boat from the rear and took our first pictures.

Next, we moored at the entrance left forward. Negotiating two steps down, we entered a vestibule area with access to the bow area, left, and the passenger compartments on the right. While this area was unfurnished, exposing the metal skin of the boat, the cabins were furnished with wood, reminding us that this airplane was built before plastics had invaded aircraft interiors. The seating arrangements were very unlike the modern jet tubes with its seats lined up as a military regiment. The main deck had four compartments, each seating six or eight in a club layout, for a total of 30.

Between the third and fourth compartment, there was a steep set of stairs, 59 cm (23 inches) wide, leading to the upper deck. At its top, to the left (so, forward in the direction of flight) was the galley. To the right there was another passenger compartment, seating 14.

The cabin diagram below, although taken from the AAB manual, was drawn by Ansett in 1965 for VH-BRC as the boat was then known. It shows the two decks, the five passenger compartments, the galley and the flight deck. Note the gender-specific toilets opposite the entrance door. Today, the boat is preserved in Southampton’s Solent Sky Museum. When I inspected the boat in December 2024, three more aft-facing seats were present in cabin B. It is likely that they were there in 1977 as well. I assume Ansett also had them, but did not show them as they were for the crew and not to be booked. In cabin D, there was one fewer forward-facing seat than Ansett showed.

Seating was open, but after 47+ years, we do not remember where we sat! The cabin and seat numbers were not marked in the boat.

During the cruise flight, we could freely roam around the two decks.

The cockpit, on the upper deck, was not accessible from the galley as the wing was in the way, although small items such as meals could be handed through. It could only be reached via a vertical set of steps in the vestibule area.

Taking turns, we were all allowed to climb the steps and take cockpit pictures in-flight. While waiting, I took a picture straight up. It shows the ceiling of the flight deck, the left arm of the co-pilot and a communications cord that is also visible in the next photograph, taken upstairs.

The captain was the famous Charles F. Blair Jr., founder and president of Antilles Air Boats and the third husband of the even more famous movie actress Maureen O’Hara.

Charles Blair was sadly to die one year later in an accident with a Grumman Goose. On the right sat Ronald Gillies, who had already flown the same airplane when it was still VH-BRC. Noel Hollë was the flight engineer and James C. (Jim) Flanagan, also a flight engineer, was the mooring man, or bow officer. Flanagan had greeted us from his prominent position in the bow when we arrived in the launch. At 29, he was by far the youngest member of the crew. He had only arrived the day before, and this was his first visit to the UK. According to documentation that was sent a few weeks later, Noreen Gillies, Ron’s wife, was the flight hostess. However, Maureen O’Hara was also on board, selling merchandise such as Sandringham T-shirts to the passengers after each flight. 

The flight deck itself was roomy, with seats not only for the two pilots but also for a flight engineer. Unlike in landplanes, his position was at the far end of the cockpit, facing backward.

In 2024, and very likely in 1977 as well, three more seats were present that are not shown in Ansett’s diagram. A navigator’s station, a jumpseat and a seat, according to a museum volunteer, that had been installed for Maureen O’Hara.

I do not remember if any safety briefing was given, but I doubt it. It is also unlikely there were safety cards for each passenger. There must have been cards posted in the compartments, as they were still there in 2024. They were for VH-BRC; AAB probably never made their own. For cabin E, the card was fixed above the stairs, not well in sight. In cabin D, it lacked altogether. Perhaps that one had been removed for or by an acquisitive collector?

The card shows the entrance door, on the left, a smaller hatch at the far right, plus an upper hatch, all as emergency exits. Both hatches were only accessible via the lower and upper cargo compartments, respectively, which, themselves, were accessible from the cabins. The card adds that “all windows may be used as exits.” On the lower frame of each cabin window was a sign saying:

Emergency exit – to eject window give a sharp blow towards one edge of window with foot or hand.

Above the portals between the compartments there were fasten seat belt – no smoking signs, very elongated as it used text, not symbols.

The Flight

Tension mounted as the door was closed, the launch left and the engines started. Charles Blair steered the boat into the wind and started the take-off. After a long run, with water splashing against the aft windows, it gently lifted off. The rate of climb was very low. We cruised at an altitude of not more than 500 feet (150 meters). I have no recollection of the route, but with its very modest cruising speed of about 120 knots (220 km/h), we possibly could have reached as far as Weymouth before returning. Or did we go to Bournemouth and then circle the Isle of Wight, as Trevor Bartlett reported was the case on his 6:51 pm flight that day? (see https://abpic.co.uk/pictures/view/1276125). Perhaps a “boomer” from south England or the Isle of Wight will recognize the scenery in these pictures.

After about one hour, we came back in for the landing on the Solent. Suddenly, water splashed against the windows again. Upon mooring, we saw a boat waiting with the next group of enthusiasts and an empty boat waiting to pick us up.

Before returning to Calshot, we floated at a safe distance for taking pictures of Southern Cross taxiing and taking off on its next flight.

The press release for the September flights had announced that “Flying in Southern Cross recaptures something of the space and grace (and indeed the pace) of a near-forgotten era of civil aviation.” After 47 years, these words have only gained in significance.

Museum Piece

Southern Cross returned to Calshot in 1981. It did not do pleasure flights anymore, but was stored there. Later, it was taxied on its two inner engines across Southampton Water to Lee-on-Solent before being pontooned to Southampton. Since 1984, it has been by far the largest artifact in the local Solent Sky Museum. It has been repainted in the colours of Ansett Airlines, displaying the registration VH-BRC and bearing the name Beachcomber. While it had an impressive active life of almost 40 years, its passive, museum life has now surpassed that in years.

Registration mark

Why did the boat have that odd registration mark – VP-LVE? AAB was based in the U.S. Virgin Islands (USVI), which follows U.S. aviation regulations. When Blair collected the boat in 1974 in Australia, he registered it as N158C. But the U.S. authorities would not allow him to use the N register for sustained operations with passengers. Across from the USVI, at a stone’s throw from St. John, was the island of Tortola, a regular AAB destination. This belonged to the British Virgin Islands (BVI). At the time, it issued registration marks in the VP-LVx range. Next in line was VP-LVE, which the BVI governor was happy to grant. The Director of Civil Aviation for BVI (as well as other British leeward and windward islands) well recognised the Sandringham’s certification, so that VP-LVE could be issued a Certificate of Airworthiness and could fly us, passengers.

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Sources

To fill the gaps in my memory and for additional information, I consulted:

• Rob Hemelrijk, who had joined me that day;
• Letter by Dersot Doran, dated 20 September 1977
• Fabulous Flying Boats, by Leslie Dawson, 2013
• antillesairboats.com

All black and-white photos, and the three exterior colour photos, were taken in 1977. Except for these three, all photos by the author.

Fons Schaefers: f.schaefers@planet.nl, January 2025

By Fons Schaefers

Introduction

In the 1970s, civil transport aircraft spotting was quite different from what it is today. Airport security was much more relaxed. Although airport ramps were off limits, at many airports it was easy to find vantage photography spots near runways. Even hangars were not always off-limits. The jet age was less than two decades old. First-generation jets ¹ were still being produced and flew in increasing numbers, all but up for phasing out. There was one exception, though: the Convair jets.

In the U.S., American Airlines had disposed of its Convair 990 fleet after only five years of operation. Most went to Europe and the Middle East. Delta had disposed of its fleet of 880s in 1973/74. TWA laid up its fleet of 25 880s around the same time, triggered by soaring jet fuel prices following the 1973 Arab-Israel war. The 880 consumed more fuel than its peers, such as the 707, so it was the first to go. All 25 were parked in one place. In those days, a congregation of so many identical airplanes was extremely rare.

U.S. Visit

Having been a civil aircraft spotter since 1973 and having visited the more exciting airports of Europe, in 1977 I decided to explore another spotters’ heaven: the U.S. Once the hurdle of obtaining a visa was taken (still an issue in those days; ESTA would be invented much later), I could plan my visit. My plan was to cross the entire U.S. in 30 days by Greyhound bus. High on the list were the military storage facility at Davis-Monthan AFB, Tucson, AZ (with a bus tour every second Saturday of the month), some major airports, the Grand Canyon (hoping for a scenic flight by Ford Trimotor, but alas…), Detroit Willow Run (for the Zantop prop fleet), Niagara Falls and Miami (for its corrosion corner). Also on the list was Kansas City.

TWA Convair 880s

Why Kansas City? JP Airline-Fleets, the contemporary spotter’s bible, in its 1976 edition, listed TWA’s congregation of 25 Convair 880s was right there:

In November 1976, the monthly spotter’s magazine Aviation Letter in # 120 reported:

In February 1977, the news was:

So, with some luck, the 880s were waiting to be logged and photographed when I would pass Kansas City on my way from New York to Tucson.

MCI, May 12, 1977

I left New York on Tuesday, May 10, at 7:00 pm, allowing me a brief, sunset visit to STL the next day. Another night on the bus, and I was in Kansas City. A short ride on the KCI Airport Express brought me to the new Mid-Continent International Airport (MCI) with its three circular terminals: A, B and C.

Looking east from the terminal area, I could see the Convairs. Through my binoculars, I identified the four nearest by registration number. But how nice would it be to have a closer look and take pictures? In terminal B, TWA had an information booth. I boldly stepped up and asked them if it would be possible to visit the Convairs. Quite to my surprise, the lady made one telephone call and then announced it was sorted. She handed me a TWA message note and said, “Take a taxi to the maintenance area and ask there for Larry Andrews.” (or words to that effect).

And so I did. Larry was waiting for me and handed me a visitor pass. Together we walked to the Convairs on the ramp east of the new hangar with its outstanding architecture. The sun was shining, casting sharp shadows. I noted the 880s were roughly parked in three rows. We started walking along the front row, with N808TW being the first, and I started taking pictures.

My tactic was not to take a picture of each airplane from the same angle, but rather a mix so that each airplane, including its registration mark on the tail or fleet number on the nose, would later be traceable. Conscious of time and intending not to ask too much of Larry, I went at quite a pace. At the end of the front row, there were some ships parked at an angle to that row. There we moved to the furthest ship and then returned between the middle and the back, constantly taking pictures.

Halfway, I changed the film from black and white to color slides. Larry shadowed me and offered to take a picture of me in front of one of the 880s.

When we were back to the point where we started, I spotted a set of maintenance steps and asked Larry if I could climb those to take some overview pictures. He agreed.

In all, I took about 35 pictures in what I estimate lasted about 20 minutes. Larry was so kind as to drive me back to the terminal area. I thanked him profusely. From a spot close to terminal C I took one final slide of the Convairs from a distance against a backdrop of the characteristic water tower and the KCAC building (which, as I learned much later, housed TWA administration) before continuing my trip through the United States.

One Month Later

Once back at home, with the pictures developed and returned to me (digital cameras were still futuristic), I could make a rough sketch of the parking pattern. For 23 ships, I positively fixed their location. For N828TW and N816TW, I was not so sure.

43 Years Later

Life went on, and occasionally, when seeing an article in a magazine about Convair 880s, I hoped there was an aerial picture so that I could validate my sketch. But it was in vain. Even Jon Proctor’s book on 880s and 990s did not have one, nor was he aware of any when I asked him at the WAHS convention in Portland, OR, in 2011. But in May 2020, I was lucky. Searching the internet, I found a picture on the website of the TWA Museum, 43 years after my visit. It had been posted in May 2018.

Now I could verify the actual pattern against my original sketch. Looking again at the overview slide, N828TW could be confirmed both by its location and number. But I had misplaced the location of N816TW. This was the only 880 that was not in any of my pictures. Or so I thought. It turned out that I did have a picture of it, taken straight from the rear, so that no registration marks were visible. By gauging the relative location of neighbor ships and by a process of elimination, it had to be #816. Puzzle solved.

Fate of the Convairs

Only twelve days after my visit, TWA sold the first of the 25 Convairs, and soon after, it was broken up on site: N811TW. Jon Proctor describes this as a tough job as its skin was much thicker than that of other airplane types, for which the demolition company was not prepared.

In 1978, N818TW was ferried to Van Nuys, CA, for conversion to a full freighter. Fifteen more Convairs were ferried to Harlingen, TX. Later, they were all ferried to the much drier climate of Mojave, CA. The eight ships remaining on the MCI ramp were broken up in 1979. Four of the Mojave ships were ferried to Atlantic City (3) or Laurinburg-Maxton (1) for use in FAA safety experiments. They were later destroyed, except for 803’s nose, which is kept in Teterboro, NJ. Of the remaining 12, the forward sections of two more ended up in museums: 871 in the Delta Flight Museum in Atlanta, and 817 in the Tillamook Museum in Oregon. Nine others were completely broken up around 2000. In 2024, only N828TW is still intact in Mojave, as N815AJ.

TWA Museum

When I contacted the TWA Museum in May 2020, I learned that Larry worked in material management at the time of my visit. He had retired since and sadly died. Reflecting on the warm welcome reception I received in 1977, I now surmise that perhaps TWA was so eager to sell the ships that anybody who asked to see them was considered a potential buyer and deserved to be shown around.

Last year, I visited the TWA Museum at the old Kansas City airport. On that occasion, I passed by the MCI maintenance area and saw a relic of the Convairs: Convair Drive. How apt.

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Footnote

1: As defined by Airbus, ref. Generations of Jet – accidentstats.airbus.com: Comet, Caravelle, BAC- 111, Trident, VC-10, 707, 720, DC-8, Convair 880/990.

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Sources

• Aviation Letter issue 120 (Nov. 1976), 123 (Feb. 1977) and 144 (Nov. 1978).
• Convair 880 & 990, Great Airliners Volume One, Jon Proctor, 1996.

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Fons Schaefers: f.schaefers@planet.nl, January 2025

By Jordan Raddatz

Friendships. We all have our fair share of them. United by a common interest. 

In the last couple years, I’ve learned that friendships and Airliners International go together like peanut butter and jelly. Or white on rice. Or any other famous combination. It’s such an important aspect that I don’t think many first-time attendees of the show truly understand. Through Airliners International, my existing friendships with two amazing people have strengthened, plus I’ve deepened many other friendships and made new ones.

I come from South Dakota, a part of the country no one really talks about. The only things we’re famous for are Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills, the Badlands, and a giant palace made of corn, which, around here, corn stretches the landscape for as far as the eye can see. I reside in Sioux Falls, the state’s largest city, a city that, in my opinion, doesn’t get a lot of appreciation. It’s a small city, though growing fast, with a lot of nice perks, parks, and places to check out.

But what about friendships? Well, they were hard for me to come by in grade school, especially when I was in middle and high school. My huge passion for aviation made me an outcast. There wasn’t anyone else at my school who knew airplanes as much as me, so it was hard to connect with them. Furthermore, there weren’t any other aviation enthusiasts I knew in the Sioux Falls area.

When I started posting to YouTube in 2017, most of my classmates mocked me for making those airplane videos. At one point during all this, an assistant teacher told me that if I wanted them to stop mocking my videos, I should stop making them. That’s ridiculous, I thought. Needless to say, I did not take her advice.

I took an aviation class in my junior year of high school, thinking I would finally find some friends. Unfortunately, I realized that the classmates there weren’t the best people either, so I had to step away from them, too. Eventually, I did make some friends at the end of my high school career, despite them not knowing a lick of aviation, but I try to chat with them when I’m not too busy.

Fast forward to 2020 and the global pandemic shuts the whole world down. This was also the time that I met Connor McCauley, a small-town boy from Oklahoma who also had his own YouTube channel. We started talking on social media, and since 2021, our friendship has developed.

That same summer, I discovered Airliners International. Someone mentioned the convention and showed off some airplane seats they bought, so I quickly became enthralled by what it was all about. Other people in my friend group started talking about it.

I conducted some research on the show, and I was blown away by what I found. A giant ballroom filled with tons of aviation memorabilia, including model airplanes. Tour opportunities at major international airports, seminars with awesome guest speakers, and much more! When I learned the following year’s convention would be in Chicago, I asked my parents if they could take me. My father is interested in helping out. We book the hotel and register for the convention over the winter.

I asked Connor about attending Airliners International. He was just as interested in the show as I was. He wasn’t sure if he could make it, but about a month out, he was able to get flights booked to and from Chicago. Now I finally get an opportunity to meet this guy and see what he’s all about!

The week of the show finally arrives, and my father and I drive the eight hours to Chicago, stopping in Rochester, MN, the night before the convention. We complete the drive the next morning, and that afternoon, I can do plenty of plane spotting at O’Hare. I even spotted a Singapore Airlines Airbus A350 that diverted from New York due to weather!

The next day marks the first day of my first Airliners International convention. The registration allowed me into the ballroom two hours ahead of the general public. I was amazed at the scale of the convention. That year, the show was spread out across several rooms and even two separate floors! Unable to resist, I blew through my budget in the first 30 minutes. 

It happened so fast that Connor barely got off the plane in Chicago before he found out about my shenanigans! I still get teased for doing that, but I think it’s justified. It was a good learning experience, as I go through my budget a little more carefully at these shows now. It’s also a lesson I teach other first-timers before they go.

The rest of the convention was great, though. On Thursday night, we attended a minor league baseball game for the Welcome Reception. Then on Friday night, Connor and I, along with a few friends of ours, met up at the parking garage I was at on Wednesday for some plane spotting. I enjoyed my time at the convention and couldn’t wait for next year. I thought Connor was an amazing person in the time I got to spend with him in Chicago.

Connor and I began to collaborate on videos promoting Airliners International that winter. We took the newsletters WAHS sent out regarding updates and made them into YouTube videos on his channel which made many more people discover the show. 2023 would bring many more of us to the Lone Star State, and with that some more great friends.

Now is a good time to introduce the second friend for this story. Anderson Lowell, another small-town resident, came all the way from Upstate New York. The first time I remember interacting with him was around 2021, when Connor and I became friends, though Anderson has told me he started watching my videos well before that. 

Connor and I talked with Anderson about Airliners International on a couple of occasions, and we convinced Anderson to attend the 2023 convention in Dallas. Eventually, he got the opportunity to attend, and it was the first time all three of us met in person. In addition to Anderson, I noted many more first-time, younger attendees who came out, some with their own social media accounts, further helping promote Airliners International to the younger audience at a crucial point in the convention’s history.

That year’s Welcome Reception brought us to Grapevine, a suburb north of the DFW Airport. They have a huge food court there called Harvest Hall, so we were all invited to go there and eat some great food. That’s where I spent a lot of time socializing with Connor and Anderson, plus a bunch of our other friends. 

The next day, I was at the convention for a couple of hours only, as I took a Planes and Trains Tour in Grapevine with some friends. This wasn’t a tour that was part of that year’s convention. When we returned to Grapevine, the weather turned and it began to sprinkle. Connor was helping other people with rides from the Hyatt Regency to Founders Plaza for the spotting meet-up. My train ride turned into a shuttle ride through the Grapevine area, eventually ending at Founders Plaza, super convenient for our group. A severe thunderstorm had developed by this time, but thankfully, it was past us and the airport. Anderson’s flight was delayed and left during the meet-up, but it was great to finally meet him as he was awesome to hang out with for the two days we had together.

As for the spotting meet-up, it was the best spotting I’ve ever done, as there was a lot of variety and plenty of pizza and drinks on hand, plus Founders Plaza is an iconic place to watch planes. The only thing missing was the British Airways A380, as the flight that day was canceled. I remember not eating anything earlier that day, so I downed about three pieces of pizza in two minutes!

The last day of the show was quite emotional as we said goodbye to a bunch of our friends. Some of them weren’t quite ready to leave us; they wanted another three days of this convention! But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and when my family and I were leaving Dallas, I truly learned that the social aspect of Airliners International is the most important part of the show. Getting the opportunity to talk to your friends you’ve chatted with online for a long time is truly amazing and worth the time and price of your travels. I won’t forget those experiences for as long as I live.

Moving forward, I remember when Connor and Anderson got to meet up again in Atlanta for the annual collectibles show in October 2023. It was great seeing them have so much fun together at the show, and then when they flew on a Delta 757 up to Baltimore. 

Fast forward to summer 2024. In the weeks leading up to the convention, Connor had been traveling with David Powell in Europe. I remember following their travels when I visited my grandparents in Minnesota and whenever I had the opportunity at work. They got to fly all kinds of cool stuff, like a Virgin Atlantic A350-1000, KLM Embraer E2, and a British Airways A380 on the way back! Connor went to visit Anderson that weekend before Airliners International, and then they went to visit David in Indianapolis. 

I met both Connor and Anderson the Wednesday afternoon of the show, and we did the Tristar Experience together. It was our first time in an L-1011, an amazing beast of an aircraft, and it was also Anderson’s first tour at the convention. I still wish they would’ve readied her for a quick flight around KC — but at least seeing one was checked off my bucket list! We then did some plane spotting that afternoon, but only briefly.

The next day, we had a couple of hours in the ballroom with Anderson before he had to leave. His early departure inspired a few ideas in my mind for the three of us to meet up again; I assured Anderson of just that as we said our goodbyes. Connor and I enjoyed the rest of the show with plenty of time in the ballroom, the seminars, and the dinners, with the BBQ night on Friday and the banquet on Saturday. It was the first time I’d attended the banquet.

After the convention, Connor and I went to Sioux Falls, then to Minneapolis for a day for our first plane spotting together outside of Airliners International. Then it was time for him to head home after being away from home for three weeks. I concluded the summer working my summer job and making the rest of my YouTube videos.

A couple of months later, Connor, Anderson and I agreed to take a trip to Florida for a weekend in November. I would be flying on Allegiant Air into Nashville, where I would meet Connor. My flight was delayed because I was on Allegiant’s oldest Airbus A320. Clocking in at 27 years old at the time of my flight, the inbound flight was delayed, and then on the way out of Sioux Falls we had a computer issue in the cockpit. Fortunately, it got resolved and I wasn’t too far behind schedule; it didn’t matter anyway as all Connor and I had planned was getting to the hotel for the night. 

The next morning, we took a Spirit Airlines Airbus A320neo to Fort Lauderdale, where we would meet Anderson. But then he was delayed leaving Richmond, VA, so we wouldn’t see him until later in the afternoon. Connor and I went to Miami and checked out The Airplane Shop. Along the perimeter, we spotted some cool planes, including some World Atlantic MD-80s and the IFL Group Convair 5800!

After our Miami stay, we flew Silver Airways on an ATR-72 out of Fort Lauderdale to Orlando. For Anderson and me, it was our first time on an ATR aircraft and our first time on Silver Airways, while Connor had flown them earlier in 2024 to meet up with another friend. We spotted the entire day and checked out the B-52 memorial before dropping Anderson off at the Orlando International Airport and driving to Tampa for the night. Connor left early the next morning to get home for classes and I took an Uber to St. Petersburg for my Allegiant flight home. 

As I flew home, I spent some time reflecting on the trip, reminding myself how important this trip was to me. The first big thing was all the new experiences I had: flying by myself finally, utilizing rideshare services, and getting familiar with traveling with friends. All of these were great learning opportunities for me, so I could get comfortable with doing this again. 

The aspect of traveling with friends was the second big thing I reflected on during the flight. It was the first time Connor, Anderson and I traveled together, and it certainly won’t be the last. I had so much fun with them and it still feels surreal to me that I got to do this with friends I met through social media, who come from different parts of the country. Yet we are all united by a common interest in aviation.

As we close in on Airliners International 2025, looking back on this journey feels so surreal to me. From what started as a pretty rough go at it with not finding friends, it turned into moments of learning and growing through many different life experiences, and eventually finding those friends I’ve longed to have. All of those experiences have made me who I am today. Attending my first Airliners International convention three years ago, and meeting a friend I had known for over a year and a half at that point for the first time, and having so much fun doing it, enabled me to come back to the show in future years, and bring more of our friends out to the show. 

With all the fun Connor, Anderson and I have had at the last couple conventions, it allowed us to explore opportunities to do our own travels outside of the convention, of which we did for the first time last year. That has made me more comfortable traveling anywhere, and we will probably be back together traveling somewhere else in the future. I can’t wait for what’s next and I am ready to attend Airliners International again this summer.

By Marvin G. Goldman

In 1925, the owner of Coca-Cola, Asa Candler, leased to the City of Atlanta his abandoned auto racetrack site for development into an airfield named Candler Field.

The first airlines to serve Atlanta were Florida Airways which operated from 1926 to 1927; St. Tammany Gulf Coast Airways, 1927, which became a division of Southern Air Transport System in 1929 and in turn part of American Airways in 1930; Pitcairn Aviation which started in 1927, was renamed Eastern Air Transport in 1930 and then became part of Eastern Air Lines in 1934; and Delta Air Service (later named Delta Air Lines) in 1930. During the 1930s, both Delta and Eastern expanded their routes into and out of Candler Field and became the main airlines serving Atlanta at the time. 

In 1929, the City of Atlanta purchased the airfield from Asa Candler on favorable terms, and though the airport was officially renamed Atlanta Municipal Airport in 1942, it continued to be popularly referred to as Candler Field. 

Here is my earliest postcard of Candler Field showing an airline:

In March 1939, Candler Field built its first control tower in a six-story building with administrative facilities. The control tower can be seen in this next card:

In 1940, Delta Air Lines acquired four DC-2s, but these were retained only until the end of that year, being replaced by DC-3s.

During World War II, Candler Field also became a U.S. air base, and it doubled in size. In 1941, Delta moved its headquarters from Monroe, Louisiana, to Atlanta, and for decades it has been the dominant airline there. 

Passenger numbers continued to grow, and in 1948 the airport closed its old terminal building and moved operations into a Quonset hut war-surplus “temporary” terminal while it developed plans to build a larger permanent terminal. That year saw more than 1 million passengers pass through Atlanta airport. 

The “temporary” terminal proved to be not so temporary. It served until May 1961, when a new terminal designed to accommodate the jet age finally opened. Here are three postcards from the “temporary” terminal era (1948-1961) at Atlanta Municipal Airport.

On May 3, 1961, Atlanta Municipal Airport finally opened its new Jet-Age terminal, publicizing it as the largest single terminal in the U.S. The terminal was designed to accommodate 6 million passengers a year, but in its first year, 9.5 million passengers utilized it! 

Long-time Mayor William B. Hartsfield, the driving force behind the development of Atlanta Airport as a major airline hub, passed away on February 22, 1971, and on February 28, 1971, the airport name was changed to William B. Hartsfield Atlanta Airport. On July 1, 1971, following the launch by Eastern Air Lines of the airport’s first international service (to Mexico and Montego Bay),  the airport was again renamed to William B. Hartsfield Atlanta International Airport. 

On September 21, 1980, Hartsfield Atlanta International Airport opened the Midfield Terminal. It was the world’s largest air passenger terminal complex at the time, designed to accommodate up to 55 million passengers each year. It replaced in stages the old terminal and its concourses A through F.

In October 2003, to honor former Atlanta Mayor Maynard Jackson, the Airport was again renamed, this time as Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. 

Since 1998, Atlanta Airport has been the world’s busiest passenger airport. It serves on average 2,700 departures and arrivals daily by airlines operating nonstop to more than 150 U.S. destinations and over 70 international cities in 50 countries. In 2024, Atlanta airport handled 108.1 million passengers (an average of about 295,000 a day), the second-highest year in its history. This represents nearly a full recovery from the general decline in passenger traffic due to the COVID-19 pandemic, which began in 2020 and followed the airport’s record 110 million passengers in 2019. 

Delta is by far the dominant airline in Atlanta, with about 73% of the passenger traffic. Southwest is second with 8%, followed by Spirit, Frontier, Endeavor Air (operating as Delta Connection),  American and United. 

Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport is now engaged in a major 20-year capital improvement program, which includes modernizing its domestic terminal, expanding concourses and cargo operations, replacing parking facilities, and eventually developing a hotel and mixed-use facilities. 

We close this Atlanta postcard article with a beautiful card showing the very aircraft that now resides in full splendor at the Delta Flight Museum, the site of Airliners International 2025 ATL, June 25-28, 2025, adjacent to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport.

Notes: The originals of all postcards shown are in color and from the author’s collection. All are in standard or continental size. I estimate their rarity as Uncommon: The Candler Field card with an  Eastern DC-2; the ‘Temporary’ terminal card with a Delta DC-3 in the center; the Piedmont Airlines card; and the card showing Delta aircraft at the rotundas and gates added in 1968. The rest of the postcards are fairly common. This article is an update and revision of an earlier one by the author on Atlanta airport postcards published in the Spring 2015 issue of The Captain’s Log, vol. 39, no. 4. 

Airliners International 2025 ATL Postcard Exhibits by Collectors: The AI 2025 show at the Delta  Flight Museum, Atlanta airport, will again feature a display of airline and airport postcard exhibits.  Whether you’re an experienced collector or a beginner, please consider submitting an exhibit. It’s a lot of fun, and the postcard displays stimulate greater interest in collecting airline and airport postcards. This year’s Postcard Exhibit Guidelines can be found at airlinersinternational.org under the tab Contest Information (even though it’s an exhibit, not a contest). I look forward to seeing you at Airliners International 2025, Atlanta, June 25-28. 

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References: 

www.sunshineskies.com/atlanta.html. This is a great website with hundreds of pictures, many postcard views, and extensive information on the history of Atlanta airport. 

www.atl.com. Official site of Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport 

www.deltamuseum.org. Official site of The Delta Flight Museum, Atlanta airport, where  Airliners International 2025 will be held June 25-28, 2025. 

golldiecat.tripod.com/atl.html. History of Hartsfield Atlanta International Airport from 1961 to 1980, illustrated with postcard views. 

Cearley, Jr., George W., Atlanta (1991) and The Delta Family History (1985), each self-published. 

Davies, R.E.G., Delta: An Airline and Its Aircraft. Paladwr Press (1990). 

www.wahsonline.com. Official site of the World Airline Historical Society.

Until next time, Happy Collecting. Marvin.

By Ron Suttell

Cards like these are commonly referred to in the collecting hobby as “pilot trading cards” due to their intended use for flight crews to hand them out to passengers, with a signature line on the back. These unique cards were produced over the years by Alaska’s former ad agency, Cohen-Dwyer Advertising, beginning with three sepia-tone cards in 1996. The first issued cards featured three different vintage Alaska Airlines aircraft (Bellanca Skyrocket, Douglas DC-3 and Boeing 727-90C) and were intended as promotional giveaways to celebrate Alaska’s upcoming 65^th anniversary.

In the ensuing years, full-color cards were produced in the late 1990s with stylized wings logo “Alaska’s World” (an ad campaign during that era) in the upper left corner of the card. Only two Alaska cards were issued with this logo, a Boeing 737-400 and McDonnell Douglas MD-80.

Around the same time, subsidiary carrier Horizon issued a card of its Dash 8Q-200 (de Havilland DHC-8-200 turbo-prop) with a similar card format.  This particular card is considered the rarest one.

Alaska and Horizon both continued with this format-gold frame with a polished gold inset for a few more cards but without the “Alaska’s World” wings logo. Among them are two different cards of the Boeing 737-900 with the gold seal “Official Launch Carrier” in the lower right corner. The first of these (below left) was issued in very limited quantities and only distributed to attendees at the May 16, 2001 Boeing delivery roll-out ceremony.  It is also very rare.

Beginning in 2002, Alaska began issuing these cards in a different format with full-color layout on the card front, initially with artist images of its many different special schemes, and later with actual inflight photographs or ground views of each different aircraft type in the fleet. At the time, this was especially important to promote the company’s strong partnership with Disneyland Resort since many of its planes sported Disney schemes.

Unfortunately for the meticulous trading card collector, this is where it starts to get a bit complicated for those desiring to have the complete set. Some of the Disney cards began to show up with variations, not readily caught at first, but seen by the astute eye of true hobbyists. For example, the card with the Boeing 737-400 Magic of Disneyland (better known as the Tinkerbell scheme) was issued with four different variations-even different backs on two of them, while the Alaska Statehood cards have blue/white title variations. This is attributed to the cards being reissued in different years, or in some cases just to produce a better image.

Similarly, the card with Spirit of Make-a-Wish scheme has two different backs of the same card.

Other variations appear on the Boeing 737-400 Salmon Thirty Salmon cards and the 75^th anniversary scheme 737-800 Starliner which includes two different cards. One of the most rarely seen variants of this card collection, issued in 2009, is below on the right.

The 737-400 alaskaair.com Dot Com scheme has an early gold frame card with the same image of the plane as appears later on an updated card in 2005.

Another interesting variant was a card honoring famous Olympic athlete Apolo Ohno, who became a spokesperson for Alaska Airlines for a brief time. One of its planes, a Boeing 737-800 (N596AS), was decorated with a “Follow Apolo” motif in 2010.

The last cards to be issued (see below) were in 2013, and are less common today.

From a purely technical standpoint, the Alaska Airlines cards are in a uniquely separate category from actual hobby collector cards due to their larger size (3-1/4” x 4-1/4” vs. standard baseball card size of 2-1/2” x 3-1/2”) and also of thinner card stock, but are nevertheless highly collectible. Unfortunately, the cards were never numbered, nor is their print run known, making it difficult to appraise their true value other than what may appear on eBay and other auction sites. By comparison, several other airlines have produced more traditional “baseball card size” issues (Delta, FedEx, Hawaiian, Northwest, United, and recently Frontier of wildlife on the tails of their planes), but only Delta has seen fit to number their cards consecutively so their cards are very popular with the hobbyists-especially for several early issue, low production cards that are difficult to find. Alaska did issue a set of more traditionally-sized collector cards in 1997 to celebrate its 65^th anniversary. This 25-card boxed set of colorful cards includes past and present planes in Alaska’s history and comes in both standard blue titles as well as special limited edition gold embossed versions.

From the number of cards in my personal collection, with known variants and re-issued, updated versions of the same aircraft type, I calculate that there are 46 total different cards in Alaska’s odd-size collection as listed below:

• Bellanca “Skyrocket”
• Boeing 727-90C “Golden Nugget Jet”
• Boeing 737-400 “Alaska’s World”
• Boeing 737-400 “Combi”
• Boeing 737-400 “Magic of Disneyland” Tinkerbell (4)
• Boeing 737-400 “Salmon Thirty Salmon” (3)
• Boeing 737-400 “Spirit of Alaska Statehood” (2)
• Boeing 737-400 “Spirit of Disneyland” (2)
• Boeing 737-400 “Spirit of Make-a-Wish” (2)
• Boeing 737-400 alaskaair.com “Dot Com” (3)
• Boeing 737-400 Freighter
• Boeing 737-400 standard livery
• Boeing 737-700 Portland “Timbers Jet”
• Boeing 737-700 standard livery (2)
• Boeing 737-800 “Follow Apolo” (2)
• Boeing 737-800 “Spirit of Seattle”
• Boeing 737-800 “Starliner 75” (2)
• Boeing 737-800 alaskaair.com “Dot Com”
• Boeing 737-800 ETOPS “Adventure of Disneyland Resort” Cars movie characters (2)
• Boeing 737-800 ETOPS “Salmon Thirty Salmon II” 
• Boeing 737-800 ETOPS “Spirit of the Islands”
• Boeing 737-800 ETOPS Hawaiian lei on tail
• Boeing 737-800 standard livery
• Boeing 737-900 “Spirit of Disneyland II”
• Boeing 737-900 standard livery (3)
• Boeing 737-900ER standard livery
• Bombardier Q400
• Douglas DC-3
• McDonnell Douglas MD-80
• McDonnell Douglas MD-80 “Alaska’s World”

There are also 8 total cards issued by Horizon Air:

• Bombardier CRJ-700 vertical card
• Bombardier Q200/Q400 vertical card
• Bombardier Q400 “Celebrating 25 Years”
• De Havilland DHC-8Q-200 Horizon Air wings logo
• De Havilland DHC-8Q-200 “Dash 8” (2)
• Fokker F28-4000 (2) 

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Ron Suttell, an airline historian specializing in Alaska Airlines, can be reached at rpsuttell@comcast.net.