I was a Pan Am Stewardess

This is a photo of the five trainees that were selected by Pan Am, before departure to the United States. It was taken outside the international departure building at Heathrow airport in London.



It was the year nineteen sixty seven, I was twenty-one years old and employed as a Passenger Service Assistant by British European Airways (BEA), at Heathrow airport in London. 

I loved my job and I loved wearing the little, navy blue and white uniform, complete with perky hat, white gloves and black, high heeled shoes. Life was good although the pay was inadequate even though I earned a little more than normal because of my language skills. Thankfully, I had studied French for five years at my old high school, back in the small town of Grangemouth, Scotland, the town where I grew up and which I left behind when I was twenty years old. Although I did enjoy my college years at Robert Gordon’s School of Home Economics where I trained to be a Dress & Design teacher, I did not enjoy my chosen vocation as schoolteacher. This vocation had evolved as a natural course of action, without any thought being given to the suitability of such a career for myself. It was just something that was considered to be a good choice for a girl at that time.

The airlines were calling out to me. It was my dream. I wanted to be a flight attendant or stewardess as they were called back then. I did apply to British Overseas Airways Corporation (BOAC) as well as a few other smaller British airlines, but to no avail. Instead, I relocated to London and while working as a personal assistant to a couturier in the fashionable area of Knightsbridge, a friend mentioned to me that BEA was hiring passenger service assistants. Quickly I applied for the job because a ground job at the airport was the next best thing to being a stewardess. BEA hired me immediately and as soon as I received my uniform I started work in the domestic passenger lounge. Initially this was a disappointment to me, to be assigned the domestic lounge instead of the international area but in the long run it was beneficial to me. If I had been assigned to work in the international area, I might have stayed.

I felt quite glamorous when I dressed up and travelled to my job. The airport bus terminal was within walking distance of the flat that I shared with another BEA employee, but better than that was the private pick up and drop off service that BEA supplied to those employees who were assigned the early, early shift or the late night shift as they were called. On those mornings when I had to start work at six in the morning, I didn’t bother going to sleep the night before. It was easier for me not to sleep rather than to rise up at four am and try to get ready for a day at the airport.

The work was varied and it was both interesting and easy. I especially liked being able to take charge of the information booth in the middle of the airport lounge, because there I could chat to the passengers. I also liked making the flight departure announcements in both the French and English languages, over the speaker system. There were other assignments that I really enjoyed, which made up for those times when I had to stand outside in the rain to meet and direct passengers who were arriving off the bus from the airport terminal. It was really exciting when I was asked to ride out on to the tarmac to meet a flight that carried an unaccompanied minor who was waiting for an escort back to the terminal.

We used to count the passengers using a hand held clicker. The passengers lined up to board a bus that would take them out to their parked aircraft, and this area was the scene of multiple dramas. In those days the airlines catered to late arriving passengers, and quite often I had to rush them to a waiting car so that they could get on board before the door of the waiting aircraft closed. There were passengers who needed to be redirected to another gate because they misread the gate number, and sometimes there was a passenger starting to have a melt down because it was his or her first flight and they were deadly afraid. It was my job to alleviate their fears and keep everything moving according to schedule.

It wasn’t long before I was promoted to check-in and although the promotion came with a pay raise I was aghast. I actually tried to turn down the promotion, but to no avail. I did not like the fact that now instead of being able to freely roam the airport, I was assigned to sit in a cubicle where I had to pull ticket stubs, attach labels to baggage and check in passengers for their flights throughout the United Kingdom. Sitting all day in a cubicle was boring although I did meet and check in the famous Sean Connery who was on his way to the Isle of Man. At first I did not recognize him.

            “I’m sorry sir,” I said. “You have missed your flight and the aircraft is about to taxi down the runway.”

            “Read the name on the ticket,” growled the passenger.

As I stared at the name and then looked directly at his the face, I could see that it was really him, 007 in the flesh. Quickly I lifted the phone, called the controller and apprised him of the situation. BEA did delay the flight so that Sean Connery could be accommodated.