Best Christmas Ever?

As a pilot I sometimes must work during holidays, and Christmas is no exception. And of all the holidays during the year, Christmas is the hardest one to get off. Every month I and hundreds of other pilots bid for our preferred schedule, which is then awarded based on our seniority. My first year (2007) I was still in training, so my seniority didn’t even come into play. Sensibly, the instructor pilots in the training department didn’t want to work on Christmas, so I had that Christmas off as well.

The following year I had moved up enough in seniority that while I was still a reserve pilot, I was senior enough among the reserve pilots to hold Christmas off. As a junior airline pilot, I was supposed to have an awful schedule, but reality was proving quite a bit better. At least up until then.

But then my airline furloughed over 130 pilots and I found that my ability to reliably have certain days off was, well, unreliable to say the least. And then it was time to bid for my December schedule. I used every available resource at my disposal and still ended up working the 22nd through the 26th. Needless to say it was probably my worst Christmas ever. I missed being there to help Annette with all the preparations and I missed seeing the fruit of those efforts on Christmas morning as the children woke up to find what Santa had brought them. I missed Christmas dinner with my wife and children, with my parents and my in-laws and my siblings. I even missed the family photo we take every year with my in-laws. I had to be photoshopped in.

The scripture reads, “there must needs be an opposition in all things,” and that it’s directly because their negative counterparts exist that virtue, health and happiness are recognizable. This year has proven that true to me. I was fortunate to get a better schedule, and while not perfect, I could at least work with it. I returned home on the afternoon of the 22nd and didn’t need to be back to work until Christmas night. Of course, as a commuter pilot, I would need to leave around 8:30 in the morning on Christmas day in order to be on time. We had our family dinner last night on Christmas Eve with my wife and children plus my parents and my in-laws and afterward we read the Christmas story from the New Testament and sang a few carols. Later in the evening my brother Brian and his wife Laura stopped by, having just arrived from Houston and I finally got to meet their baby daughter. My sister Alison and her husband Chris picked them up from the airport and so they also came in to visit. It was a wonderful Christmas Eve.

This morning Annette and I awoke at 6:40 to unmistakable sounds of children. I happily if sleepily watched the delight in their faces as they opened their gifts. When 8:30 drew near and it was time to excuse myself to get ready, I didn’t mind. I had been richly fed and was content. It was in some ways my best Christmas ever.

There is a postscript to this day. Upon arrival in Washington-Dulles tonight I discovered that the flight I was supposed to operate was canceled because the captain had called in sick and there were no more reserve captains who could take his place. I could have stayed home. I had a suspicion that something might happen and made sure to check before I boarded the flight from Salt Lake City, but at that point all still looked good. But even though I could have spent the rest of the day with my family, I didn’t feel resentful. Disappointed, to be sure, but there was nothing that could be done. No, mostly I felt happy and grateful to have been able to have such a wonderful Christmas Eve and morning. Sometimes you have to taste the bitter to know to prize the good.

Two or Three Witnesses

Yesterday morning I was driving to the Atlanta airport to catch my 7:15 flight home. I had checked on the computer the night before and saw that there were plenty of seats and I looked forward to a relaxed commute home. Well, fairly relaxed. I would have to make a connection in Denver, since the nonstop to Salt Lake City was pretty full with lots of other people like me on the standby list for whatever few seats were available. But I would get home by noon, which was the important part.

So while driving I called up the airline to reserve the “jumpseat”—the extra observation seat that every airliner has in the cockpit. Nearly every U.S. airline has agreements in place so that a pilot from any of the participating airlines can ride up front (or in back if there are empty seats) on any of the participating airlines. This has gotten me home at least a third of the time and is invaluable. Anyway, in process of making the reservation I discovered much to my dismay that the flight actually was departing at 6:30, not 7:15. Was the website wrong? I recalled that another website showed the flight leaving at 6:30, but since the company’s website showed 7:15, I assumed (take note of that word) that the company’s website was correct.

Panic struck me as I drove to the ASA parking lot. By my calculations, if I was lucky I would arrive at the terminal at 6:15. Maybe I could still make it. The bus made good time, and after an agonizing 60 second delay waiting for an airplane to get out of the way. At 6:16 I got out of the bus, ran for a jet bridge (remember, I’m outside with the airplanes), hiked up the stairs, entered the terminal and sprinted for the gate. I got there at 6:19 (gate agents try to close the door at ten minutes prior). I made it! Success!

Except the flight was full, and although I had reserved the jumpseat I hadn’t been there early enough to claim it. Three other pilots were in front of me. Failure! Doom!

Now when would I get home? Well, to make a long story short, the next flight I could reasonably try was the nonstop to Salt Lake City, and while the airplane was full, I was first in line for the jumpseat. I got home by noon, and all was well.

I felt very blessed yesterday, in spite of my initial bad luck. I also learned (re-learned) an important lesson: if something doesn’t seem right, like two websites disagreeing about when a flight was scheduled to leave, then the only smart thing to do is to dig deeper until you find out which one is correct. What I had inadvertently done is mix up the 7:15PM flight with the 6:30AM flight. The second website wasn’t wrong, nor was the airline’s website. What was in error was my perception, my interpretation.

The scriptures teach this point: “In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.” (2 Corinthians 13:1) This isn’t just a spiritual principle, but a practical day-by-day one as well. And I need to assume a whole lot less.

It Beats Working For a Living

In two more days I will have completed my first year with Atlantic Southeast Airlines. This is an important milestone in at least a couple of regards. First and foremost, during the first year the airline can terminate your employment without cause. Arriving late for an assignment is sufficient cause. So is your shirt coming untucked. Fortunately ASA is not known for its draconian behavior, but there is one area where I feel a bit exposed—commuting. Generally the last day of a reserve assignment I am on call until 9:00PM and the last flight home leaves at 8:55. So I fudge and leave early. Sometimes when feeling brave I have left on the 6:30 flight. It’s a calculated risk given that there is virtually no assignment the airline could give me and get me back in time for my day off, so the chances of it backfiring are slim. Nevertheless, I almost always check my cell phone upon landing with a hint of fear that Scheduling called while enroute. Chances are I would have to meet with a Chief Pilot who would give me a tongue lashing but likely nothing worse. Hopefully. But like I said, if the airline felt so inclined, it would be more than enough to fire me. But once a pilot has completed a year he or she then has union protection and it is much much much harder to fire them. I will still be nervous when commuting home if I leave a little early, but I won’t fear for my job. My stress level will go down a notch.

The second big deal about the year mark is the pay raise. First year first officers don’t make very much. If you are interested in knowing just how much you can click here. Every little bit helps, and it’s nice to have made it through the most difficult stage. Pilot pay raises come according to years of service—each year your pay goes up. The biggest jump is after the first year, then it grows much slower. The next real jump will come when I upgrade to captain. And when will that be? Given how the whole industry has slowed down, probably not for another five years. Sooner would be nice, but it’s not something to expect. The only ways to speed up that process are for the airline to grow or for senior pilots to leave, whether for retirement or to other airlines. Naturally we pilots hang on every rumor of growth, but it doesn’t take long to recognize that the rumors are almost always nothing more than just that.

Overall it has been a good year. The only real negative is that I am still on reserve, meaning I still do not have a regular route and schedule and so fly only when someone else doesn’t show. That’s why I have now sat in my crash pad in Atlanta for the last three days without going anywhere. I still have three more days before I go home again. Usually I’m here for four or five days at a time, but I’m here for six this time around because I was able to more around some off days so that next week I will have five days off in a row. That will be very nice. Again, the process of “holding a line” or regular schedule is a question of movement upward in seniority. Right now it’s pretty slow, but I expect that by late Spring I should finally have a line. That also comes with at least one more day off per month.

On the plus side I fly a jet airplane and they pay me to do it. I have visited Mexico and Canada plus many cities in the eastern U.S., not all particularly glamorous but good people live in them all. As my Dad, a retired United pilot, used to say, “It sure beats working for a living.”

And You Thought You Had a Long Commute?

As an airline pilot with Atlantic Southeast Airlines (ASA) I am based in Atlanta, Georgia. Like many pilots, however, I do not live in Georgia. In my case I commute from Utah. Often it’s not a bad commute, as commutes go. Once a week I fly four hours to Atlanta on one of Delta’s nonstop flights and once a week I fly back. In fact, I chose ASA in part because there are eight nonstop flights between Salt Lake City and Atlanta every day. That shouldn’t be so bad, right?

Generally it’s not. But sometimes the flights are full and then I have to get creative. Being a pilot I have “jumpseat” privileges, which means that I can fly in the extra seat in the cockpit with virtually any airline, so I have plenty of options, as long as the seat isn’t already taken. Usually I go through Denver on Frontier, and I have also gone through Chicago.

Once in a while things get tricky. This past week American Airlines grounded a third of their fleet. Big deal. But in order to minimize their passengers inconvenience, American sent them on other airlines. The net result was everyone was full, including the jumpseats. Delta, Frontier, United, etc. Apparently I’m not the only crazy commuter.

I had to be in Atlanta by 3:00PM Saturday. By the time I realized the depth of my predicament it was 11:30AM on Friday. I put everything down and packed, hoping to get lucky by starting earlier. I knew I wouldn’t make it in time for the 1:30PM Delta nonstop, so I my next bet was the 5:10PM nonstop.

I arrived at the gate only to find my worst fear realized: the plane was oversold with multiple standbys and three other pilots already in line for the single jumpseat. There was no way I was going to make this flight, and whoever didn’t get on would wait for the next one at 12:50AM, and then the 6:00AM, etc.

I hustled over to Concourse A to see if I could get to Denver. Frontier was departing at 4:50. It was full, but the jumpseat was open. In fact on the Airbus 319, there are two, and there were two of us, but the captain convinced the other jumpseater to sit in the cabin on the flight attendant jumpseat by telling him that one of the flight attendants was a cute blonde.

OK, so far, so good. My plan was to make Frontier’s 6:55PM connection from Denver to Atlanta. With two jumpseats instead of one I should still get there that same night. But no dice. Once in Denver I went immediately to the gate to find both jumpseats already spoken for. Frontier’s next flight was at 12:25AM, with no guarantee that I would be able to get it.

I rushed from Concourse A to Concourse C to see what else was available. One of the maddening things about the Denver airport is each concourse’s departure and arrival screens are only for that concourse. If you want to know about other flights at the airport you have to physically go to the applicable concourse. There I found that Delta had a flight at 12:50AM. Then to Concourse B, where I found a United flight that was departing in just 15 minutes. I hurried, only to find—yes, you guessed it—the airplane full and the jumpseat taken.

It was time to get creative. I called my Mom and had her log into Delta’s employee website and together we looked at several possibilities. The Delta flight was oversold just like the flights in Salt Lake City, so not a good option. There were more flights the next morning but equally as bad. AirTran left the next morning at 8:00AM, so that was a possibility, but nothing looked like a sure thing, and I needed a sure thing.

What about other cities? I looked at the departures and saw that Southwest was going to Kansas City at 9:10PM. Mom checked on Delta flights from Kansas City to Atlanta and found that the 6:00AM flight to Atlanta had 36 empty seats on it, and the 7:10AM flight also had empty seats and was operated by ASA, which meant I would have priority. I just might make it!

I boarded the Southwest flight and did my best to sleep en route. Arriving shortly before midnight, Central Time, I searched for a place I could snooze. I found a chair that would work, called home and updated my wife, and then tried my best to sleep. It could have been worse, but it was not quality sleep.

Then at 5:00AM I dragged myself to the gate. Empty seats were plentiful, and I even scored a first class spot! As soon as the plane was airborne I put the seat back and closed my eyes. We were delayed somewhat en route, but finally touched down at 9:30AM Eastern Time. I had made it!

All in all my commute this weekend totaled three flights and about seventeen hours. In the six months I have worked for ASA this has been the hardest one. Thank goodness this is not normal. I hope.