By Ellis M. Chernoff

I was interviewed in an office provided by Republic Airlines in Atlanta, Georgia. Two of my former Dolphin Airlines colleagues, along with a couple of other executives, met with me to talk about Phoenix Airline Services.

What was initially pitched was an air academy and holding company that would produce codeshare operators for several major air carriers. The academy would be modeled on Flight Safety International, providing ground school and simulator training in a variety of corporate and commuter airliner types. I was under consideration to head this new operation. It was intended to be state-of-the-art and of the highest possible standards, and I was considered perfect for the task.

As a startup venture, I could expect deferred compensation until the first codeshare airline went into operation. It was an attractive opportunity with long-term and expanding prospects. The principals I was meeting with were actually working at Eastern Metro Express, which was a division of Metro Airlines, and this new venture was still in the works and virtually a secret.

In the past, a commuter airline could obtain an FAA operating certificate under FAR 135 with a single plane and pilot. That pilot could also serve as the Director of Operations. Only a relationship with an approved repair facility was necessary to fill out the prerequisites.

But by the 1980s, the situation was much different. An airline applicant had to have a qualified Director of Operations, a qualified Chief Pilot, a qualified Director of Maintenance and a qualified Director of Training. The FAA would also need to be assured that aircraft could be obtained for exclusive use. In turn, new aircraft financing depended upon assurance that FAA approval could be obtained. And finally, any airline that would consider a codeshare partnership would require all of the above to be satisfied. Therefore, hiring me would be key to the desired approvals.

This was a great honor and certainly would be a challenge that would take advantage of everything I had learned in my past fifteen years in aviation. I agreed only on the provision that I had full authority to do it my way, with standards that would meet or exceed those of any major airline training department.

Returning to Atlanta with my car and possessions, I found the office buzzing with activity. By this time, there were also a Director of Finance, a Director of Maintenance, a Director of Operations and two secretaries. Less than ten people total. The secretaries were entering every page of every manual, from Eastern Metro Express, into dedicated word processing machines. The text, in turn, was printed on the new Republic Express letterhead stationery.

I set to work reviewing every single page and making edits. Although Eastern Metro had been certified only a couple of years before, provisions of the regulations had changed, and everything had to comply with the current rules and interpretations. This work spanned a whole suite of required manuals. Long hours were devoted to this work, but I had nothing else required at this point.

There came a point where I would box up material yet to be reviewed and pack a suitcase, as I was given a ticket to Scotland, where we had an order for 25 brand new Jetstream 31s. I took along my Nikon camera with regular and macro lenses. Arriving at the British Aerospace factory in Prestwick, I was greeted as a VIP. In fact, I was the first person they had actually met representing this substantial order for new aircraft. I would be given full access to the factory floor as well as the design and performance engineers, as well as enjoy wonderful lunches in the executive dining room.

Most of my days were spent attending a comprehensive systems ground school taught by a factory instructor. He had a very heavy Scottish accent, but I managed to understand everything he said, including uniquely UK terminology. Also attending the classes were four maintenance engineers (mechanics) from the Netherlands. All of us resided in the same hotel and enjoyed breakfast and dinner together. I spent my evenings continuing to edit the manuals that we would use at Republic Express.

Additionally, I was compiling what I would use as a pilot training manual and constructing normal checklists and performance cards that my crews would eventually use. While in the factory, I took many rolls of detailed photographs of the panels, switches, indicators, and other bits that I would use for teaching ground school.

While the Jetstream design dates back to the mid 1960s, the current version was much updated. Our specific order incorporated a number of features not found on Jetstream 31s previously delivered to other operators. Firstly, we had a newly designed belly pod to add baggage capacity. The basic aircraft only had a baggage compartment at the rear of the cabin. The new external pod not only allowed carry on baggage to be loaded without disrupting the boarding of passengers, but with its central location, did not affect the balance of the plane.

Like other contemporary commuter turboprops, engine bleed air was used to heat and cool the cabin in addition to providing for pressurization. But our order included electrical cabin heaters and electrically operated freon air conditioning units to provide a comfortable cabin while the planes were parked at the gate. Of course, this necessitated a ground power unit for each plane, but I had mandated that anyway, as the Garrett engines are best started using external power. Our engines, too, were the latest advanced version of the TPE-331 using strain gage sensors for measuring torque output.

Our fleet would also be the first Jetstreams to have a water-methanol injection system to boost power in high ambient temperature conditions, just like the Metroliners and Fairchild F-27s I had previously operated. The water-methanol system was so new for production Jetsteams that I could only get a hand-drawn schematic of the system to incorporate in the pilot training materials. I also had the initial printouts of the performance charts to distinguish between “wet” and “dry” takeoffs.

Returning to Atlanta after more than three weeks, I resumed work with the secretaries, making amendments to the suite of required manuals. By this time, a Chief Pilot had been hired, but no other pilots. We still had not received the first delivery from the factory. But an office space was set up under the B concourse at the Memphis International Airport, and I drove to that city and worked from that office, living in a company-provided temporary apartment.

My office had a few long tables, a telephone, and an excellent copy machine. I set to work printing out revision packages for the various manuals that were already printed out. I also started making copies of the pilot training manuals and other materials that would have to be submitted to the FAA for approval prior to the start of any training. In 1985, in order to obtain an FAA operating certificate, we had to provide a letter of compliance indicating how we, as a new operator, would comply with each provision of
every applicable regulation.

Time was of the essence as the start of operations date had been published for June 1, and we had still not hired any pilots, nor did we have any airplanes. One morning, our Director of Operations came into my office and announced that the FAA was on their way over to see us. There were four or five of them in suits from the Memphis Flight Standards office that would have oversight of our airline. Upon introductions, one of them recognized me from many years before. The inspector had previously worked in Columbia, South Carolina, and remembered me from my time and work with Air Carolina. It was like a homecoming and stunned everyone in the room.

Getting down to business, the lead inspector announced that, so far, our materials did not meet their
approval. I had not been aware that while I was in Prestwick, the Atlanta office had submitted the draft manuals without much of my edits. My response was to hand them the required multiple copies of the revisions I had prepared. They also inquired about the pilot training materials, and I gave them copies of my pilot training manuals, checklists, performance tables, and showed them the trays of 35mm Kodachrome slides that I would use. They thanked me and returned to their office while I returned to my ongoing tasks.

Within an hour, the Director of Operations again came to my office to instruct me to stop what I was doing and drive over to the FAA office. Arriving there, I was handed official letters of Initial Approval for everything. I was shocked and said, “Surely you could not have reviewed everything you took back to the
office.” I was told that a cursory review, plus my reputation and attitude, had fully satisfied them that everything was now up to snuff.

It was now a GO; a classroom was set up, and the first group of twelve pilots was hired and given a report date. Since the classroom was going to be out on the concourse, I insisted that there would be a dress code for all students. They must be attired in a shirt and tie. Not only was this because airport employees would see them coming and going each day, but I also wanted to instill an attitude of professionalism not usually found in commuter airlines.