I was 17 and working for my dad in the summer of 1971 - his company did foreign freight forwarding, and customs documentation was an important part. In this particular instance, some papers needed to be signed right away, but we were in Baltimore and the customer was in Minneapolis.
So I was to fly there, get the papers signed, and fly back, all in one day. There were no direct or non-stop flights available, so in total, I got to experience FIVE takeoffs and landings and I think I was on 4 different flights, one having one stop, but I didn’t have to change planes on that one. All the ups and downs played havoc on my ears - heck of a first-time experience.
And, honestly, the worst part was that I wore new shoes and all the walking left me with some nasty blisters!!
Around six months old from Chicago to Poland. The next one (that I actually remember) was at four, same destination. Now the first domestic flight? That’s a good question. I think in college, to be honest.
I didn’t take a flight until I was 25 in 1986 and it was for work.
Flying by plane was expensive back then and I was raised to drive everywhere, family vacations were often long haul drives of 1700 mile each way and done within a two week vacation time frame. It sucked because you were dead tired once you got to the realtives home and dad would literally pass out after a few drinks with this brothers.
Now I did take a 1500 mile train trip when I was 3, when my family moved from Texas to Ohio. But only because dad was driving a truck full of our stuff.
I was 18. I met a girl and we “fell in love”. Unknown to me she was engaged. She broke off the engagement and her mother was furiously making my life a living hell.
It was 1976 and Greyhound Bus lines were offering a “see America” special. IIRC a ticket was $76 and was good for a month(?) as long as you kept going in one direction. I went west, from Pittsburgh to Sacramento, where a couple I knew lived and offered me a place to live. I figured I’d get a job and stay.
A few days after arrival, the girl back home sent me a Western Union message. All was fixed and I should come home. She included a money order for enough to fly home, which I did. I arrived home to discover she had lied about her mom being cool with me and I broke up with her.
Dallas (Love) to San Antonio. It was a Braniff Lockheed Electra.
Since I was underage, one of the many pilots* in my family accompanied me on the trip. He happened to be a Braniff Electra pilot, so I got a first hand look at everything, and an in-flight cockpit visit.
It was the first flight ever for me. The next one was my first flying lesson, and I flew myself from that point on. The second commercial flight was in 1981, Houston to Amsterdam on a KLM 747, to get to my new job.
*Last time I did the math, more than half the males were pilots.
Like puly, I’ve been flying since I was a babe in arms. He went to Poland…I went to Texas. The fun part was getting on the helicopter to shuttle into LAX.
Yeah, it’s funny, because until this thread, I didn’t realize we just never took domestic flights as a family. It was overseas pretty much every four years until college. And then I got a lot of flight time in once I graduated and moved abroad (though not as much as friends of mine who became consultants and seemed to fly out every other week or so; for me it was like every 2-3 months for several years.)
Meanwhile, my kids (now 10 and 8), have been flying 1-3 times a year since they were born.
I was 24, flew home from Chicago. Southwest had a deal, it was an hour flight and only $90 round trip. The downer was I was psyched to be the first (non-military) person in the family to fly, and discovered in the two years since I’d left home damn near everyone had flown somewhere.
Must have been when I was under age ten in the 50s. We flew on (I think) a DC-6 out of Juneau, AK and it was either to Oregon or to Anchorage. That time in my life is a bit fuzzy. I know that we got on the wrong flight and had to be escorted off. I of course had no inkling that most of my adult working life would involve flying from one place to another.
Oh, and my first international flight was from LA to Vietnam on a military charter in 1968.
I was five, and my dad flew us all to Disneyland, a new-minted novelty. From SFO to Anaheim I guess. Not all that far. My main memory was of the television in the hotel. We didn’t have a television, as my mother thought they were an abomination. Of the amusement park I dimly recall the Swiss Family Robinson tree house, some kind of trip on a boat with roaring hippos, a space ship, and It’s A Small World. I never went again. But I retain, to my everlasting regret, the entire song of that last ride. I’ll take it to my grave.
My mother took me in her arms to her parents, who wanted to see me for Christmas, being their first grandson. My birthday is two weeks before Christmas 1964, so that is the oldest I can have been. Madrid to Munich, then some train, I guess. I guess at that age I flew for free.
I was 21, and flew out with my mom and grandma to visit my uncle in California for Christmas. I remember feeling excited to fly for the first time, but not particularly nervous.
Then the second time I flew was 10 years later, when my sister and I decided to visit our other sister, who had moved to Florida. That was the winter immediately following the one-two punch of the ValuJet Flight 592 crash in May '96, then the TWA 800 crash in July '96. I remember having a very acute understanding of the fact that planes are basically thin aluminum tubes built and flown by fallible humans, shot miles into the sky with exploding fuel. It began years of being a nervous flyer I worked hard on overcoming by taking plane trips every year, even when I didn’t need to.
Didn’t help when we made it to Florida, took an Everglades tour, and the tour guide was all “yep, the Valujet crashed just over yonder. Barrelled vertically straight into the swamp so hard there was practically nothing left to find, and gators got any remains that was left”
I was 21, and the Navy flew me to Groton to tour the sub base. I took a window seat so it was a great first time. Found out I always have to blow my ears out on landing, the flight attendant explained how. I had no clue.
Back in those days, we got a real meal and snacks. But…there was a smoking section.
I was about ten, so maybe 1971. An Ozark Airlines flight from Mount Vernon IL to O’Hare with stops in Bloomington and I think Mattoon. I threw up at some point along the way. Go me.
When I less than 10 years old, around 1965 or so. And I took it solo; I’d summered with my grandparents and was being shipped back to my parents on the other side of Lake Michigan. It was fun, I had a lot of nice attention from the flight crew. No questions about gladiators, etc. though.
It was not my first airplane flight; my dad was a private pilot and I’d gone for rides with him in various Pipers and Cessnas by that time.
I think I was 8, maybe 9, so 1979-1980. We had recently moved from LA to San Jose, so my parents flew me back down there to visit with my grandparents. I was seated with two other kids around my age, and none of us had parents with us. I don’t recall being scared, or having any other adverse effects.
Would have been for my 8th grade class trip from Chicago to Washington DC. Mid 1980s. I don’t really remember it very well but I remember getting a window seat and being pretty happy about that.
Back when BWI was known as Friendship Airport. I flew from there when I was too young to remember.
An anecdote about different times: My dad worked at Westinghouse, which was next to that airport. He tells a story that some engineers had to fly to Seattle to meet with Boeing–Westinghouse was building the AWACS radar in the '70s (Airborne Warning and Control System). An engineer had forgotten to send a component ahead, so another engineer races to the airport with this shoebox-sized electronic gizmo with wires and dials on it to give it to them. He goes to the departure gate with this thing, explains the situation, and they let him onboard to hand it off.
I haven’t flown in a few years. Do we still have to take our shoes off?
