Comfy? Good, because this is going to be a long post.
I'm writing this blog post just a few weeks before I actually post it. Although I'll tell the truth when asked to put to rest any rumors that have made the rounds at work, I haven't advertised my news on social media just yet. I'll post this blog after I make it "Facebook official," since nothing is official until it's on Facebook! Once more, it's been over a year since my last post. I'd love to blame writer's block, or even a lack of anything blog worthy. Truth is, life has put a lot of blog-worthy material my way this year. I've just been lazy. However, recently I've achieved a goal that I've been working so very hard to obtain for quite a long time. This blog and all 5 of my readers (if you're still there?) need to know!
I started flying when I was in my first senior year in college 16 years ago, when I thought I wanted to be a high school band director. Henderson State's Music Education program is a 5 year program. Or, at least it was for me. I'm sure I talked about why I changed careers in a previous blog post, but here's a recap. Flying was not in my family, except for my Uncle Jerry, who was a helicopter pilot in the Vietnam War. I didn't grow up living, eating, and breathing anything that took to the sky. While I loved being a passenger and there was always a mild interest in flying, I didn't really give a thought that it was something I could do.
No, I started flying because I was trying to bang one of my music professors who had his private pilot's license, and I was pretty sure he hung the moon. He took me flying in one of our university's airplanes, passed me the controls to let me see how each one moved the airplane, and said, "Delia, you can learn how to do this. I'll put you in touch with an instructor. Hell, I'll even help you study!" He had a passion for flying, and I had a passion for him! So, slave to my lust, combined with an interest in learning something that not everyone else does, I learned how to fly. My evil scheme worked - he helped me study, all right. I even moved in with him. I know what you're thinking, but I still studied for those high grades! We were happy for a few years. Being the talk of the music department was simultaneously embarrassing and exciting.
I stayed in love with flying long after my relationship with the professor went cold. Life is funny, eh? After completing the music degree, I went right back to school the following semester to pursue an aviation degree. I practically had tenure by the time I finally left Henderson State!
I did everything I could to build flight time. I earned my instructor certificates. I was told by my superiors at the flight school where I was teaching, "get 50 hours of multi-engine time, and we'll let you teach in the twin." I bought 50 hours of multi time. They said, "Sorry. Now you need 100 hours of multi to teach our multi-engine students." I told them to piss up a rope (in the most eloquent, professional way, of course), and went to teach freelance at an airport an hour away from where I lived. I stayed busy as a freelance instructor, and the quality of student was much better. Teaching older people who had always wanted to learn to fly and could now afford it was much more rewarding than being no-showed by hungover 18 year olds whose priorities put getting drunk and getting laid ahead of getting to their 8 am flight lesson (fine priorities, but they didn't do me as much good as they did said students). Unfortunately, I still couldn't build that coveted multi-engine time that all of the regional airlines wanted. I joked that I was so multi-hungry, I should stand at the airport holding a sign offering "favors" for multi time. Well, half-joked. All of my peers seemed well-connected and were getting jobs, and I was still stuck at home with 50 hours of multi-engine time.
I got desperate. Not desperate enough to sacrifice what little virtue I had left for flight time, but close. I applied for a job flying cargo. I moved to St. Louis, lived in an aircraft hangar with some of the coolest people I've ever met, and flew Cessna 210's and Beechcraft Barons, single pilot with no automation, in some of the crappiest weather the Midwest could throw at me, during all hours of the night. I managed to survive this for 2 years! It was the MOST FUN, most educational, and most terrifying flying I've ever done!! I decided I was getting too old to fly through the weather, and it was high time I flew over the weather. I finally had that coveted multi-engine time, so resumes went out.
Chautauqua/Republic Airlines called. I spent 5 and a half years as a First Officer before I could upgrade to Captain. If you've read my blogs, you know the rest. These last several years, I've been going to job fairs and talking to airline recruiters. I've been updating my applications on a regular basis. I've done volunteer work for the American Red Cross and Women in Aviation, Intl. I've kept a clean record, and networked my charming, happy ass off. I have ZERO check ride or training failures. After 10,000 flight hours and a world of "Keep updating, but we don't need you at this time," from every door I tried - not to mention a few outright rejection letters - I finally received an email from United Airlines.
United. My first choice. My dream job! I scheduled my interview for late in the month when I had a block of days off. The interview was to consist of a flight simulator portion, during which you have to prove that you can fly their company profiles in the Boeing 737 with no automation at all, and an HR panel of interview questions. I dropped a wad of $$$ on interview prep seminars and a flight simulator prep course. I had my suit tailored. I practiced interview questions with my FO's, and talked in front of mirrors to see if I did anything goofy. I wanted to make sure that I did everything under the sun to prepare for this!
I arrived in Denver, where the interview was to take place, a day ahead of my simulator prep course. The balcony from my hotel room gave me a fine view of the United training center. I took it as a good omen. My friend, Rod, whom I've known since day 1 at Chautauqua and now flies the 737 for United, flew in and gave me a tour of the training center. Every room he took me through fueled my excitement to work there! We sat in the downright palatial break room after our tour, and he said to me, "Welcome home, Squeak." I had to blink away tears. That brass ring was so close, I could almost feel it in my hands.
The sim prep course was the best investment I've ever made. My instructor was fantastic! I knew I'd love the guy when he showed up to our lesson wearing a Hawaiian shirt. He knew exactly when to make me laugh, when to give me encouragement, and when to put his foot in my ass. He would yell at me, "Watch your altitude!! Don't forget about your airspeed! Now your heading is off-course! What the hell are you doing?!?" After the prep course, he sat me down and gave me some pointers for the interview itself, which helped immensely!
Interview day. Let me tell you this: if you ever interview with United, it will be a positive experience. Everyone there - even the security guard - made me feel welcome. Everyone was so positive, and they immediately put me at ease. I felt like I belonged there. They allowed me to relax, think, and to be myself. I thought, "win or lose, this has been a dream come true."
I won't say much about the interview itself, except this - I knocked the sim out of the park!! I flew the HELL out of that sucker! Given my horrible flying performance the night before during my sim prep session, I thought the thing was broken, or maybe the guy in the other seat was helping me! I wasn't perfect, but I surprised even myself!
As to the HR panel of questions, I knew it was either going really well or really poorly when we started talking about ukuleles and bagpipes.
A week later, my phone rang. It was the head of recruiting, congratulating me and welcoming me to United. He said, "The job is yours, if you want it." My husband was sitting next to me on the couch when I got the call. I barely squeaked out "YES!" Tears streamed down my face, and I nearly crushed my poor husband's hand, without realizing what I was doing. After I hung up the phone, I screamed triumphantly and scared the hell out of the cat. I told my parents and a few close friends. Finally! Finally, everything that I've been working so hard to achieve.... finally, it's here. I did it!
This was in late August. Do you know how hard it's been to keep quiet about something so monumental?!?
They originally told me to sit tight, and expect a call in November for a class in December. However, it looks like Christmas is coming early for me! November 10 is when training begins! I don't know which aircraft I will get to fly; I've been told it'll either be the Airbus 320 or the Boeing 737. I honestly don't care. I'll fly the frigging GOODYEAR BLIMP for them if they want me to do so!!
I've had people tell me throughout my career, "Oh. You're a woman. Airlines have quotas to fill. You'll get hired before anyone else." If this was ever true in the past, I don't believe it's true now. Let me tell ya, having ovaries has done nothing to help me get hired anywhere! If having ladybits was going to help, it would have helped me 5,000 hours and 2 jobs ago. I got hired because I worked very hard. It was like a second job trying to get this job. I had several internal recommendations, and yes - an element of luck.
People who helped me: You know who you are. I could not have made this step without you. I've always hated asking anyone for anything, even though I'd give my soul and bottom dollar to help someone achieve their goals. Thank you for all of your help! I cannot wait to pay this forward! I want everyone I love to know what it is to achieve that thing, that one goal that has kept them going when all hope seems lost. Please don't give up. It will happen for you, and please let me know what I can do to help you make it happen!!
Oh, and if by some small chance you're reading this, Dr. Etienne, thank you for changing my life. You were the catalyst and single most influential person I've met. No matter how many times I end up on your shit-list - and I'm pretty sure I'm on it as of this writing since you won't return my calls, texts, emails, smoke signals, etc - I'll always love you for putting me on this path. I truly hope you are well and happy.
My new life begins soon, and I couldn't be more excited!!
