The next morning, we set off for the Museum of Modern Art and the Claude Monet exhibit. We returned to the Village again walking around Sherwood Square-book shops etc and then over to McDougal Alley where we had coffee in Figaros. Russ and Steve (Nancy’s date) picked us up around 9 pm and we drove to Times Square. As it was Easter weekend, parking proved a problem, but we finally found a space and went to the famous traditional jazz spot the Metropole Cafe, Broadway to hear Turk Mauro? and Chubby Jackson and then on to the Hotel Edison for dancing. We ended up the evening at the Right Bank, a little coffee house on 63rd and Madison for coffee and hamburgers- and a rum chocolate-was it ever tasty. We stopped off at my apartment and stayed up until 4:30 am talking and then the guys left. Nancy really liked her date and was sorry to see him leave.

Sunday morning we almost got to church, but we just couldn’t quite struggle from our beds. We dressed around noon and headed for Fifth Avenue to join in on the Easter parade. One or two blocks were enough for us, and yes once more we headed back to the Village. We took a chance and tried to get tickets for “The Three Sisters” by Chekhov. We were in luck! We then attempted to eat at Brunos, but it was closed, so ate at another Italian restaurant – where we had lasagna and then headed for home.

The next morning, April 18, I took Nancy to the bus station and I set off for Philadelphia. I flew with a new girl and what could go wrong did! That evening we went over to the Pub, and then of course the famous Philadelphia jazz club Billy Krechmer’s. We returned to the hotel and the next morning went shopping , by golly.

The next stop was Indianapolis, IN. Two men from GM bought our drinks and on our way out, two other guys walked in. One was my dream man –tall dark, big football player from West Point who graduated five years ago and is now a test pilot based in Alabama. They were left stranded in Indianapolis, when their plane had engine trouble. They explained that there are only two planes of its kind, so they had to wait for parts to be sent from Alabama. We danced and spent quite a fun evening. The next morning, when I reached the airport, I saw his plane soar off, Alabama bound. I’ll never see him again. But in this business, they come and they go.

Enroute to Indianapolis, I met Tommy Crawford again – Educational Television. He drove me into Indianapolis and showed me around the University of Indiana Medical School campus. We conversed over a cup of coffee in their student union, which overlooks a luscious looking pool. He is trying to interest me in getting into Educational TV. How serious he is, but what can I do? Only time will tell! (An aside: Many years later, I began my Mary Lou Bigelow Show-a community interview TV show. Perhaps I should have listened to Tommy more carefully.)

Thursday evening, on my return trip to New York, I gave Lonny Southerland a call and we made arrangements for the evening. We dined and danced at the Grille Room at the Roosevelt Hotel and later attempted to meet his roommate to no avail. I returned early with the pretense of having a flight early in the morning . The next morning was spent basking on the apartment roof top and that evening Walt and Ed dropped over.
Saturday I was off again on Flight 509 but as the schedule changed on the 24th of the month, our crew deadheaded home the same evening.

Sunday, Russ and I had dinner at some friends of his family. It was a nice time and a very good home-cooked meal. Later we visited Roy and wife-to-be before setting off for the apartment.

This morning I spent on the roof top and now again at 5:30 pm I am back up top – enjoying the cool breeze. A peaceful calm prevails-only Lynn and I wouldn’t mind a bit of intrusion as our main purpose for our being here in Manhattan is to meet eligible young males. So be it. I now return to my book on (Salvatore) Dali, a fascinating book of a rather eccentric personality. My fascination with his paintings remain intact.
Stay tuned. More to come…

On January 30, I was sent to Philadelphia again. My college roommate Betty came over to the hotel. It was good to see her.

My next stop was Indianapolis, where I visited the famous Speedway and Museum as well as the World War 1 Monument and the Indiana Soldiers & Sailors Monument (1902,) commemorating those who served in the Civil War-Spanish American War.

I met many interesting people on my flight. One, Clyde Shelton, whom I hope to see again sometime, and we talked about philosophy, agnosticism and Max Ehrmann’s poem “Desiderata. ”

#####
After a long break from writing in my diary, I need to catch up. Starting with March, the first few days were spent in Flushing.

On the fourth, I took out flight 215 and returned to attend a party about 12 pm where Russ met me at the door. After much ado about losing my pocketbook and keys, Russ and I had to wait until the next morning to return to my apartment in Flushing. It was Saturday morning and we were able to wake up the tenants below us. Finally we were let in by the landlord. Russ went on to work and I slept through until Sunday. Russ came over on Sunday and we listened to records. On Monday, he drove me to LaGuardia to pick up my pay check before he went to work.

On March 9, I headed for Philadelphia on flight 509 where I spent the night at Betty’s house and met her next door neighbor Bruce.

On the 12th, Russ helped me move into Manhattan on the west side. That night we went to Maxl’s in White Plains- a quaint little German Rathskeller.

My next trip on 509 to Philadelphia was spent at the Franklin Institute.

On the 18th I went to a sophisticated party of sorts at the Celtic apartment put on by Irish girls of TWA.

On the 19th, I was introduced to Billy Kretchmer’s, a great little jazz spot in Philly and the following day, Barb Bracht and I visited Philly’s broken down aquarium. We walked past the boat houses and toured the Malta Boat Club (dedicated to the sport of rowing since 1960).
On the 22nd, Joe Yablonsky and I went over to the Fireside for a quiet evening

The next day, I met Bill French for a cocktail in Grand Central and we reminisced over old times at Amherst College.

That evening was delightful. Russ and I went over to my favorite spot – the Gaslight – where we saw four folk singers , three poets and a bongo player.

My next 509 flight left on the 24th. The Captain and I went over to my favorite jazz spot – Billy Kretchmer’s.

On the 25th, Barb and I had dates with two medical students. First we dropped in at the Meadows? in Indianapolis, and then to her date’s home where we toasted marshmallows, and danced.

On the 27th, I felt very lucky and was assigned flight 215 to Chicago, where immediately after reaching the hotel, I called Joan Pitalko. We took the night tour of Chicago and then went to the Chez Paree where we saw Sarah Vaughn (Misty) and the Vagabonds and then we continued over to the London House to hear Jonah Jones, whom we chatted with before we left.

The next day we set off to Albuquerque. We arrived quite late, therefore making us illegal (by 15 minutes) to take our morning flight. With some time to spare, the crew decided to drive to Santa Fe. Enroute, we saw two ghost towns – the first an old coal mining town. Santa Fe was an exciting town to see with its Spanish architecture. We only had an hour and a half but were able to visit a few old churches and the top of the State Capitol for a view of the city.

Once back in Albuquerque the first officer and I drove to Old Albuquerque which is a small replica of the old days built around a square park in the city. We ate Mexican food in the Pasodoble and then left to spend the evening in Oklahoma City before deadheading home to New York.

April started off rather poorly, as I was overtaken by an intestinal grip. After missing two flights, I was still free for another week, as there were quite a few new girls who had just bombarded LaGuardia. Instead of letting them stagnate after their training, flights were taken from some of us lucky older girls and given to them. I hopped a bus home to Boston for a few days and returned early Friday morning.

My sister Nancy flew back with me via Eastern Airlines – her first flight and she loved it.”
More to come…

I edited this short video today, showing the TWA hostess uniforms in 1959 and the new one introduced in 1960.

“On October 23, I took out Flight 519 again. Captain Z., Barbara Davis and Flight Engineer Frank got together for dinner at Tony’s – an Italian restaurant, well known in Saint Louis.

Flight 215 was my next flight. On board, I met Karl H., a Swiss flight engineer. We spent most of the layover in Kansas City together. He was very interesting and much the philosopher. He was the kind of person that I would like as a brother.

When I reached Chicago, I called Dick “Zeke” Bogosian, a high school friend who is a student at Chicago Law. He came over to the hotel and we decided to go out on the town. I had enough money for the both of us and we had a lovely time spending it.

TIP TOP TAP postcard

We hopped into a cab and went over to the Tip Top Tap, a lounge at the top of the Allerton Hotel. The view of the city was like a lovely painting. We talked about his studies, my new airline job and his girlfriend/my school chum Claire Mornane, who was teaching back in the Boston area. Poor fellow, he wants to get married so desperately – a very understandable wish.

We left the Allerton and walked around the corner to the Scheherazade and Arabian Tent Room restaurant for Shish Kebab, which was served on little swords. It is a small restaurant, but quite atmospheric. The food was delectable and quite reasonable at $2.50 a plate. The most expensive dinner was an Arabian dinner for $3.50. An appetizer served before the meal, made of egg plant, was called Baba Ghanouj – very good! I must remember the name. I returned to the hotel after a lovely evening.

Back at the hotel, one of the hostesses and a crew member came trouping upstairs with glasses of scotch in hand. In fact, they walked with the bottle in plain sight – crazy people!

October 26, 1959

The 26th of October found me on my way to Columbus, OH. Passenger Al, nicknamed Ali Baba offered me a deal – sew a button on his jacket and he’d take me out to dinner. I sewed on the button, but refused the dinner invite. Later, he found out my room, by enquiring at the front desk for a hostess from Boston. After all his work to find me, I finally agreed. The other hostess Donna Lou Franklin came along with his friend and we went over to the Skylight Room on the 16th floor of the Deshler Hilton. The restaurant lounge overlooked the city – a very atmospheric place. I fell in love with it. We met three others, who were Al’s business associates. The filet mignon was delicious. We danced and dined to our hearts content. Al is very smooth – a charmer. He is Ukrainian, born in Russia and has worked all over the world. Only this year, his business St. Regis paper sales is domestic. At the end of the evening, he walked me to the hotel, saying that the next time we meet on a plane, nothing will be said, but as we get off the plane, I will say yes or no for a date that same evening.

Al had planned to call me at home on Thursday. To my surprise, however, the very next day on my flight back to New York, he walked onto the plane.  And behind him were 10 fellow salesmen, who were also at the Skylight room the night before.  Our bargain stood. When we deplaned I said “yes” and met Al at the baggage area. We took a taxi to my apartment where I changed into my new black dress. Then we went into the City, stopping at the Commodore Hotel, while he checked in. I waited in the cocktail lounge.

First we went over to a small lounge in the Pierre Hotel and then to another little place. I was giddy, feeling like a school girl. People stared at us – perhaps because of our apparent age difference. Al was 35 with graying hair and I was only 21. Come to find out, he was married – with four children!  The fun was over. I took a taxi home early that evening. The next day, I slept 18 hours…

On October 29, I was sent off to Chicago again. Sue Buckley flew with me. When we reached Chicago, we went to a restaurant down the street and then saw Harry Belafonte in the movie “Odds Against Tomorrow.” The next day, we flew to Kansas City (MKC). But then I realized that I would be illegal to work a flight back to base, as we were governed by the total number of hours allowed in a given month; therefore, after much explaining to my supervisor and scheduling, I deadheaded on Flight 282.

About 20-minutes out of Kansas City, the captain had to feather (turn props so they slice through the wind) the props of one engine. We returned to MKC and three hours later we were airborne again. In my gold dress and TWA apron, I helped the cabin crew serve people. A supervisor was on board! – but the crew needed help, so there were no repercussions for not being in uniform.

Suddenly, there was a racket sounding like a hail storm. An aileron had came loose this time, but the power to it was shut off and we made a safe trip home.

November 23, Val and I saw The Best of Everything. The following day we went into the city and saw “The Beloved Infidel” with Gregory Peck. This was a good movie, but mostly because Gregory Peck was on the screen. I can’t compare it with “Roman Holiday”- my favorite. After the movie, we went back to Flushing, picked up Val’s car at the garage, dashed home and dressed for the evening. We decided to go back in town and see “Sweet Bird of Youth”, the Broadway play starring Paul Newman and Geraldine Page. I was spellbound by Paul. The play was good-an Elia Kazan production and quite enjoyable.

On November 25, crew scheduling called and sent me to Newark to take an Eastern flight to position me to protect a flight out of Philly. Easter was late and I missed my Philly flight. Another hostess took that flight and I took her flight to Chicago. I arrived at 8:30 pm and was told to deadhead home on the earliest flight possible. I sat around the airport until midnight; then met another girl in the same position. We went over to the hanger and slept for a few hours. Finally after much delay of a flight originating in Los Angeles, we left at 3:00pm for New York.

It was Thanksgiving and when I arrived back at the apartment, I was happy to see Joan Pitalko visiting from Chicago.  Sue Buckley and Joan had spent the day in the Village (Greenwich Village) but most everything was closed.  Joan was disappointed, of course, so I went back to the Village with her the next day.  We stopped off at B. Altman Warehouse and bought a few sweaters and then walked the rest of the way to the village – straight to MacDougal Street.

Many, coffee houses lined the street. We stopped in San Remo’s, Figaro’s, and the Cafe Bizarre, where we listened to a guy recite his poetry – it was awful . We ended up at the Gaslight Cafe, located in the basement of 116 MacDougal Street.

Hugh Romney 1959 (Wavy Gravy)

Co-poetry and entertainment directors Hugh Romney (now known as Wavy Gravy)  and pal John Brent as well as a a folk singer performed. Everyone clapped by snapping their fingers. The tenants above the cafe had complained about loud clapping, so that is how it became the rule to finger snap to show appreciation.

I bought Hugh’s beat-poetry booklet called Song of Alive.

Just love that Gaslight Cafe!

Wavy Gravy

December 1959

I was lucky to have Christmas off this first year of flying and spent it in Boston with my parents and a dear college chum, that I have recently become quite enamored with. He dropped over to my house at Christmas. He and dad talked aviation and navigation. Mother liked him very much. Nancy thought he was a hunk!”

More on TWA to follow…

“Thursday evening, October 14, Val and I drove into the city to meet her friend Harry and my blind date. We arrived at Harry’s apartment to see the two men dressed in Madras jackets and sailor hats. They changed, thank goodness, and we set off into the big city. Lonny S. was dark, slim and just tall enough for me. We went to Jack Silverman’s International theatre restaurant at 52nd St.

Starting off with Brandy Alexanders, we watched a great stage show featuring comedian Alan Gale. Harry suggested that the waiter order for all of us. We had roast beef just the way I like it. Lonny and I danced the cha cha and the meringue and danced our feet off. A few people remarked about our good dancing. To my surprise, the manager of Jack Silverman’s paid the bill; after all, he spent more time at our table than greeting other guests.

Next we went to the Gaslight (Key) Club. The rooms were decorated with a rich red carpeting, a gay nineties decor – reminding me of beatnik St. Louis but twice as lovely. The waitresses were in tiny costumes with plunging necklines and fishnet stockings. The manager Duncan Newton sat at our table and entertained us. He told us that Burton Browne opened the first one in Chicago in 1953. And in 1956, he opened the New York club in this plush mansion. He also told us that the club was used in the film Butterfield 8 with Elizabeth Taylor.

Burton Browne, The Ace Of Clubs 1970 from Charles Lange on Vimeo.

We returned to Harry’s apartment for awhile and then Val and I drove home. I fell onto the couch and slept for two hours, dreading the thought of taking my early flight home to Boston. I woke about 6 a.m., called the airline and changed my flight to 10 am. I made this flight and arrived home in one piece.

Mom and I went shopping on Friday. Saturday, my younger sister Nancy and I drove up to Francis Berecz’s house (my mother’s long-time friend) and planned the folks’ coming 25th anniversary. That night Marilyn (long time school chum) and I went over to the Jazz Coffee House (Club 47  at 47 Mount Auburn St., Cambridge MA) a jazz/blues/folk club. I met a younger imitation of my former college boyfriend Dicky. He was only 19 and played football for Harvard. He obviously had hurt his hand, as it was all bandaged up. Such a sweetie! I had hoped that Nancy would come in so I could introduce him to her, but she didn’t. I talked to John Neves downstairs. He remembered my name, which pleased me. During the second break, I talked to Paul Nevis about old times. Steve C. is working in Connecticut now, he said, after working at the Sea and Surf all summer. And, he has a record coming out very soon. Paul and I talked about New York and, as a big brother might do, he cautioned me about New York life. It was good to see him. He gave me the name of a man working for United Artist Recording Studio in New York , just in case I needed work during the on-coming strike (as I recall the strike never happened). Mal and I left and went back to my house for coffee and talked til 3:30 in the morning.

On Sunday, the family went out for dinner and Monday morning mother and I went shopping in Malden. That same afternoon, I had to head back to New York. Daddy took off from work ( he owned Moores’s Welding Company in Medford, MA) to drive me to the airport. Once there, I told him that he needn’t come in with me, but he said he wanted to. Looking around and noticing that most of the male travelers were in suits (flying was a dressy affair in the 1950s), he looked into my eyes, reached up to stroke his cheek and with a concerned look on his face asked, ” “Is my face dirty?” Oh, he was so cute. Later in the snack shop, he grinned at me and said, “You should have your uniform on!”

More to come…

Crystal Palace, Saint Louis

October 3, 1959 diary notes of flights in September continue…

“Two flights later, Captain Carl and First Officer Jerry,  Val and I went to the Crystal Palace in Gaslight Square – the Greenwich Village of the Midwest. Live jazz, beat poetry and restaurants were teaming with bohemians here. The place was decorated like an old saloon and in the night club there was a huge chandelier. The room was predominantly red with colored glass covering one wall. The entertainment was a jazz quartet – Bobo Lewis, a girl comedienne (who was terrible), and a marvelous duo of Israeli folk singers brought to America by Ed Sullivan. Later we stopped at the Elliot Lounge, next to the hotel, and listened to a piano player, joining in for a sing-along.

For my first flight for October, I went to Cincinnati, Ohio.  Captain Nick and the rest of the crew decided to do something . While waiting in the lobby for the others, a very good looking blond gentleman entered the lobby and walked out the front door.  He intrigued me.  When the crew gathered, we all went to the Barn, not far from the hotel and listened to a great combo. We didn’t hear too much of it, though, because we were gambling with matches.  I won many rounds;  yet lost, when we gambled to pay for a round of drinks – my luck!

On the way back to the hotel, the same man walked past. We grinned at each other.  I went upstairs and changed into slacks and went back downstairs to get some coffee in the snack shop, hoping that my blond friend might come in.  He did, strangely enough!  He approached me and suggested we go across the street for  a drink, which we did and planned our future relationship.  Adam B is a special agent for an insurance company.  He was planning to fly to New York next and I planned to meet his flight, as  my flight  was to arrive back in New York just before his.  My plans, however, were spoiled, when crew scheduling set  me up on a quick turn around and, therefore, I didn’t have a chance to see him.  Later, I learned that Adam called me at my apartment,  while I was en route to the airport. I was quite disappointed, but we shall see what happens in the future.

I just came back from a flight to Dayton. I slept 13 hours and finally caught up on my much needed sleep. I am now sitting in my living room in Flushing exercising my right upper appendage writing this epistle.  As I write this,  I forgot to mention my parents’  visit to New York.  They drove me back to New York with all of my winter clothes. We visited the UN building and went to a movie.  All in all, we had a lovely time and it was good for Mom and Dad.  Oh yes, and then the flight that I met Jim B., a salesman for  the well know department store B. Altman and Company. He wrote a personal note of introduction for me to carry to Miss Newman at the store’s warehouse in New York.  A few weeks later, I visited the woman and bought a beige cardigan for $13. I plan to return before too long and buy a few more.  Might as well make use of this chance while I can…

October 11, 1959

On October  5th I was sent ot Chicago on a Super G  (L-1049G)  I met Marv R. in the Ambassador (first class) section.  Planning to meet once we got to Chicago, I went directly to the Conrad Hilton with the crew and waited for his call. For a time, I wondered if he would call, but he finally did and I met him in the lobby about 10:00 that evening.  We walked around the hotel area, but couldn’t find any place interesting to visit. He called a friend, who gave him the names of some places and we hoped a cab to the Pump Room, in the Ambassador East Hotel on Chicago’s Gold Coast. The luxurious Pump Room – was always a place to see the rich and famous and was used  in the movie North by Northwest. We sat at the bar and danced a bit. Waiters dressed in Turkish garb served flaming shish kebab to those dining.

We then went over to the Maryland Hotel to the Cloister Room, where they had a small progressive jazz group. It was a very modern lounge and quite peaceful. During the course of the evening, he told me that he had attended Indiana U., played professional basketball, was a stuntman in Hollywood for a few years, signed up as Van Johnson’s double for two years and is now in partnership with another fellow – a school for disc jockeys.  We plan to go out in New York, when he returns from Chicago.

When I got to the airport the next day, I saw Joan Pitalko, who told me that Rush Street is the party street in Chicago. Mr. Kelly’s, The London House, and the Blue Note are some of the well know jazz spots.  She also mentioned Trader Vix Hawaiian room – also found in New York, Frisco and Paris.

I had a few days off, before I was sent out on another flight pattern. This time, I was on Flight 221. My first layover was in Philly. I went to bed about 3a.m. and got up at 7:30 the next morning. I quickly dressed and started out shopping.  In Peck & Pecks I bought a black Chesterfield raincoat, that I’ve wanted for a year and bought a blouse in John Wanamakers – Philly’s well known department store. I returned to the Sheraton and met the crew in the coffee shop. We sat and talked for an hour.

My next layover was back to Saint Louis. I met Bob Shneider., a 24-year old St. Louis native who just graduated from the University of Missouri.  He asked me out, suggesting a tour of the beatnik area. This suggestion was the deciding factor in my acceptance of the proposal.  I changed clothes in the airport and met him at the ticket counter. A friend of his picked us up at the airport and after stopping to visit friends Don and his wife Marge, we went to the Hobby Horse, which is a hangout of college and former  college students of Saint Louis. We stopped for a few drinks and then drove to Gaslight Square. Our first stop was the Gaslight. As most of the places in that area, it was decorated in the 19th century decor.  A guitar player sat upon a stool and gave forth with strange Middle Eastern  sounds – typical music of the beatnik generation.  The place, a small, narrow long room,  was crowded with people.  Later we went over to the Golden Eagle, which was a larger copy of the Gaslight. Across the street I noticed the Crystal Palace, which I had visited three flights ago.

When I returned to the hotel, I was surprised to find that I had a single room.  I was not sharing with another hostess.  I went to sleep and woke about midnight, believing that my crew call was late. At that point, I  wondered if the rest of the crew had gone to the Holiday Inn.  Panic set in. I called the desk and they didn’t have the Captain’s name on record. Well, as it happened, the Captain did not stay at the hotel, but the rest of the crew were there.  I located them and we all set off for Tulsa, Oklahoma and then returned to Idle wild (former name for  JFK International Airport).  

We got caught in a wild storm for the whole trip. It was late and too late for the limousine, so  I realized that the only way of getting home was by taxi.  I was quite upset and the Lost and Found attendant  got me a ride home with a ticket agent – Bob something or other.  He was supposed to be working, but the other fellows covered for him.  Once home, I fed him coffee and a sandwich and sent him on his way.  He was very sweet to help me.  I appreciated it so much!

October 14, 1959

Two days ago, I was on my way to Denver, CO.  I was determined to take a tour on this trip, as I had a 32-hour layover and wished not to waste it. The two girls I flew with were Ellen Hegman and Marilyn Pickle.  Both girls were lots of fun to work with and made the trip one of my most enjoyable.  The flight was light. We only had to serve  19 passengers on a Jetstream, leaving ample time for ourselves.  When we arrived in Denver, the weather was bad – rain and more rain. We drove to the Riviera Motel, got a snack to eat and then went to our rooms for the night. I woke about 7:00 the next morning, dressed and took a bus into the city. I attempted to do some more shopping but Denver is about  five years behind the times in styles.  I walked over to the Civic Center and State Capitol building.  Only a few tall buildings outlined the sky.  I returned to the motel about noon and waited in my room until the flight engineer returned with the crew car.  (Denver is one of the few or only city in which we have a car for our own use.)   He returned about 12:30, so I decided to take it and see some of the countryside.  

At first I planned to drive down to the Air Force Academy, but finally settled on Central City, which lay half the distance from Denver.  (The city is an historic mining settlement founded in 1859 during the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush, which came to be known as the “Richest Square Mile on Earth.”)

 It was a lovely drive – 40 miles of mountain scenery. The other crew members had advised against it – one saying that  I ‘d get lost.  They did not discourage me, though.  I hopped in the car, turned on the radio and drove, feeling free as the wind and very content.  I  exclaimed over and over to myself, “How beautiful, how beautiful.”   Once I left the city limits, I entered  * Clear Creek Canon – with its creek  twisting and  turning thorough the mountain gorge.  I drove through tunnels dug out of the mountainside and steered the car along the narrow twisting road.

Face on the Barroom Floor, Teller House

Finally, I reached the former gold mining town of Central City.  I parked the car and walked up Main Street. All the taverns, grocery stores, gambling houses, and apparel shops were still intact from the days of the Gold Rush days. I walked down the narrow cobble- stone street, peeking in souvenir shops, saw the face on the bar room floor of the Teller House.  On the way back to the motel, I drove up to Lookout Mountain, close by to Denver.  

An old man, sitting next to me in the coffee shop on top of the  mountain, started a conversation. Bearded, in old clothes and wearing a beaten up Cowboy hat, he looked the typical mountaineer.  He talked about the ranch he had in his younger days. He told me that he travels 50 miles a day delivering the Denver Post to residents in the various mountains surrounding Denver.  He pointed to the mountains, telling me their history.  He seemed so enthralled in his stories, that I hated to interrupt, but time was fleeting and I had to bid adieu and get back to Denver.  

On the way back to the motel, I traveled down 6th Avenue – the better residential section of Denver. The impressive homes and voluminous trees outlined the dark deserted avenue.  What a day! I thoroughly enjoyed my escapade! 

Thursday, back in Flushing, I spent yet another shopping day – this time in Jackson Heights, LI ”

####

* Clear Creek is a tributary of the South Platte River, approximately 66 miles long, in  north central Colorado .  The creek flows through Clear Creek Canyon in the Rocky Mountains directly west of Denver, descending through a long gorge to emerge on the Colorado Eastern Plains where it joins the South Platte. The creek is famous as the location of the most intense early mining activity during the Colorado Gold Rush of 1859. (from Wikipedia)

P.S. If I may comment upon my own diary, I expect to see plenty more  references to “shopping”  throughout this entire journal.  Some things never change!

More to come…

The following excerpts were entered on October 3, 1959, but covered August and September flights:

“It seems like ages have passed since those first few days at TWA school in Kansas City. I passed the four week course, fell in love with dear Frank C., visited the Starlight Theatre and dined at the Golden Ox.  Now that is all behind me.

My first flight was on a TWA Jetstream  (L- 1649* Starliner).  It was  a routine one, except for Captain Xs  attempt to lure me into some dark corner, so to speak.  

Flight #519 to St. Louis, MO was my next flight.  Captain Tom W., flight engineer Randy  J., and I went down to the river and listened  to boogie music on the old river boat.

Meanwhile, fellow new hires Sally McVay, Sue Buckley, Val Knost and I,  planning to room together,  finally found an apartment, after spending a few days in a rat hole  - The Belmont in New York City.  While back in New York, Val and I saw the “Boyfriend” and took an excursion bus ride around the city.

On my next flight, the other hostess and I had a beautiful room in Saint Louis in a suite with marble floors, leather chairs – the works.  We had two baths, a living room, dining area and large bedroom. We couldn’t let this room go to waste, so we called the captain and first officer down for a peek.

Martin 4-0-4

My first and only Martin 4-0-4 flight was a full load (40+/- passengers).  Sounds easy, but it was quite an ordeal.  This was a one-hostess 45-minute flight with a scheduled meal service.  I was nervous with no other experienced hostess for guidance.  I popped my head  into the cockpit to get some reassurance from the flight crew, but they were  uncommunicative.  Was it me? What did I do to offend them, I wondered.  Perhaps they had a tiff among themselves!  No matter,  they did not talk to me throughout the entire flight.   I felt so alone!  Once up in the air, we experienced turbulence and  it was a feat to try to hold on to the seats for stability and, at the same time, pull out each tray from the carriers to serve each passenger.  Once the trays were out, the Captain announced that everyone was to get in to their seats and fasten their seat belts.  I  checked the passengers and then did his bidding myself.  Shortly , we started our descent, so I made an announcement, ” Please  fasten your seat belts, place your trays under their seats and fold up your tables for landing.”  We landed, bouncing along on the runway, being tossed about  in the heavy winds.  Never mind the jostling about, I was just happy to feel those wheels touch the ground.  Everyone on board clapped!

When the passengers disembarked, I began the ordeal of pulling trays out from under the seats.  I heard a woman’s  chuckle coming from the front of the plane.  It was the  air hostess , who would relieve me for the trip back to New York.  She was a seasoned  woman and took pity on me when she saw the embarrassed  look on my face.  She set to and, between the two of us,  we picked up all the trays and stowed them into their carriers.  “Don’t fret”, she said, It is not unusual to have this happen on this short flight.  I usually bid this flight pattern, so I’m used to it.”  We stayed in Dayton, Ohio  at the Cross Roads Motel.  I never saw the crew appear  that night for dinner and never  saw them again on another  schedule.  

My pattern  for September was  Flight #519 again to St. Louis. My captain was Ralph L.,  first officer Carey H. and flight engineer Hugo R.  My first flight with the crew was a quiet one. We all ate at the Lennox restaurant  and then went to our respective rooms.  I changed into casuals and walked  toward Jack Spratt’s Waffle Shop, when I noticed a grey haired gentleman walk toward me. We passed each other  and then almost simultaneously, we turned and sure enough if it wasn’t Ralph.  We laughed and laughed over that little incident.  He was returning to the hotel, as Hugo had met some girl and split up the party.  Ralph came over to the Waffle Shop  with me and kept me company while we had coffee.

After that night, he kidded me about the white ducks he saw on the girl “walking the streets”.  On my next flight, my roommate Val was the other hostess.  She had a date, so the three male members and I ate at Roses – an Italian restaurant, then went to the Vogue and then the Carousel.  Ralph and I danced  for hours.  Carey went to the movies and finally, Hugo disappeared to meet some girl. Ralph and I returned to the hotel, a short time later.

On the next trip, my  hostess partner stayed at the airport, as she was planning to deadhead (take a flight to position yourself for another flight pattern or to go home when not scheduled). The three male crew members and I again went out to dinner, this time to the Mayfair Hotel (both the Lennox and Mayfair are owned by the same people and both restaurants are German) We then went to the Carousel and Ralph and I danced once again. As the time before, Hugo disappeared and Carey left with him.  

On the next trip, Val and I changed into slacks and went over to a cafeteria. Both of us were disappointed  that the crew wouldn’t do anything with us, but perhaps it was just as well…”

####

* Lockheed Constellations were the L-049 and L-749 at TWA. Super G was the L-1049G, the bigger, faster improved Connie. The Jetstream was TWA’s name for the L-1649 Starliner. Very few of these were ever built as the jet age was soon upon us.

PAN AM comes later.  TWA to be continued…

Mary Lou in TWA winter uniform

Here are some photos – mostly Polaroid photos taken on my TWA trips.  The cabin attendants in First Class were given a Polaroid camera  so they could take pictures of passengers for a gift to them.  We always had film left, however, so we took fun photos of ourselves.  

Now don’t get any funny ideas!   This was merely tomfoolery!  After an arduous  meal service,  it was time to have a few laughs.

In 1995, we were issued green uniforms for summer and brown uniforms for winter. You will notice, however, that there was a totally new uniform in 1960.

Mary Lou during meal service

Relaxing in lounge after meal serviceD. Gregory and Mary Lou

D. Gregory and Mary Lou

Joking with Tommy Ryan

Bobby Maish Kept us Laughing!

Hey, don't crowd me out!

Buddy Ledger

Coffee, Tea or me!

Purser and Mary Lou

As for TWA, I will continue with more on these years in the coming blogs.

For those of you waiting for Pan Am info and pictures, please be patient.

More to follow…

Missing are my uniforms and hats.  I left them behind when I moved back to the Boston area from Stamford, Conn. back in 1989. It was not my intention to leave them.  I had saved them  for years, but somehow they disappeared in the move.

Digging through a storage box,  I found a number of  pictures, a flight log book, airline booklets, as well as diary entries that I had completely forgotten about.  I found my old airline scrapbooks with postcards of places I visited, restaurant menus,  little notes from old acquaintances,  a few secret admirer  notes,  letters left at hotels by my traveling friends,  playbills, pictures of other  crew members, commendation letters from passengers,  and supervisory reports of my conduct on flights. 

Looking back at my diary, TWA school lasted four weeks.

Mary Lou Moore Bigelow, Sue Buckley, Val Knost and Sally McVay

More soon…

I  wanted to explore the world and what better way than through a job with pay!   During my senior year, I contacted what I considered the elite of the international airline carriers – Pan American World Airways.  Afterall, its motto was – the world’s most experienced airline.

Pan Am Interviews were to be held in New York, but the shock came when I called for details. The receptionist gave me the time and place, but then added, “Please understand that all  candidates must  be fluent in a foreign language.”  Oh no!  I was crushed.

I soon put thoughts of Pan Am aside and shortly, thereafter, attended an  interview  session with United Airlines.  On the interview day, I was so  excited and made sure to arrive early.  I don’t know what I had expected, but I was  shocked to see a large room filled with 150 to 200 attractive, well groomed  young women, all about my age, height and weight.  And, as I was to find out, only two were to be selected out of the entire group.  

Private one-on-one interviews were simultaneously being held by two separate interviewers. The girls were called one at a time.   The time dragged on.  By the time they called my name, the interviewers had changed their method of operation and began shuttling everyone in by groups.   Finally I was called along with two others.  The three of us were ushered into one of the small interview rooms.  The woman interviewer pointed to a  bench opposite her  desk.  She gave us a rehearsed spiel about what they were looking for in the  girls they choose and a little about the company, all the while barely  making eye contact with any of us at all. No questions were asked that I can recall. We were told that if we were chosen,  we would hear  in about two weeks.  Otherwise, we would not hear from them.  They  thanked us for coming and ushered us out.

 It was clear to all three of us, that interviews were basically over.  Our  interviewer  was obviously just  going through the motions, and we assumed that they had already chosen the two girls they wanted.  We knew we would not hear back from her. Crushed, I walked out and headed home to face the excited questioning of my mother.  ”Well, how did it go, dear?  Did you get in?”

After a week or so of gloom and doom, seeing my  flight attendant  dream fly out the window, I got a hold of myself and called TWA (Trans World Airlines).  Interviews were being held  shortly. They sent me a brochure with the TWA Hostess Qualifications inside.  Physically, I qualified according to their requirements. But now, I was paranoid. What can go wrong this time?

I prepared carefully.  I wore a lovely fairly tailored beige silk dress, polished my black heels, manicured my nails, teased my short bouffant hair.  I grabbed my short white gloves in hand, and headed out for my Boston interview.  

Sure enough there were close to 200 girls again.  Interviews were to be held  according to the alphabet.   As  the last girl in the “Ls” was called,  my heart pounded freakishly. I  couldn’t wait to have my interview.  Then someone made an announcement that the interviews would resume after an hour’s lunch.  The agony of waiting continued, but I made my way over to a diner nearby, climbed onto a stool at the counter and ordered coffee with an English muffin. The muffin came out with lots of dripping butter.  The  inevitable happened!  Need I say more?  Remember,  I was wearing a light beige silk dress!  I looked down the front of me!  Lots of little wet spots  glistened there.  I  rushed to the ladies room and desperately tried to rub out the spots with seltzer water – but you know and I knew then that it would be to no avail.  Dejected, I returned to the interview room.  Eyes from around the room were on me. There were smiles,  frowns, looks of pity, and  easily heard whispers  that carried throughout the otherwise quiet  room.  I was doomed!

Finally, it was my turn.  The “good news” was that I would have a private one-on-one interview;  the “bad news”  was that I looked so messy.  I took a deep breath,  held my head high, and marched straight ahead right into the office.  The interviewer and I shook hands, I smiled big and took the chair opposite her.    I noticed her eyes drop to the bodess of my dress.  Right then and there, I confronted my demons and while shaking my head  and shrugging my shoulders I pointed to the spots and said, “It was just my luck to have a name beginning with “M” and to have to go to lunch before my interview. ”  I then told her about the English muffin incident.”  We both had a chuckle and continued on with the interview.

End of story is that I was one of the two girls hired that day.  My analysis is that they were looking for young women who could handle unordinary circumstances with grace and remain calm in the process.

TWA Hostess School: Kansas City, MO

That story taught me two of life’s lessons!  1) It is important to stand out in some way!  In any way,  as long as you can handle the situation!  I reasoned that if I had  been the perfectly  groomed young lady that I was at the beginning of that day and answered the interviewers questions  just like all the other 200 girls,  I am convinced that I probably would not have won the prize!  2) Never stop trying to follow your dream!  United overlooked me as being just one more attractive young lady with nothing out of the ordinary to set me apart.  I was fortunate that day at TWA to be in the second round!  That English muffin was not a curse but a blessing!

TWA Graduation, August 21, 1959

More tomorrow…