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     By 7^th June, 1977, I had completed my “quick & dirty” co-pilot’s training by Capt. Kauffman, plus my first officer’s check-ride by Chief Pilot Capt. August.  I was then told to report for work the next day.

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     Golden West Airlines’ flight and maintenance operations were headquartered at a historical site: “Hanger One.”  The first structure built at LAX in 1929, designed in the manner of an early California Spanish Mission – replete with arches,  red tiled roofs and a bell tower - located along the south side of Runway Two Five Left (250°/070° magnetic, SW/NE).

     Historical “Hanger One” at LAX. The original terminal building.

      Golden West based at historical “Hanger One.”

     In fact Amelia Earhart had departed from here on one of her historic record-setting flights.

     Amelia Earhart.

     In truth, dear reader, when reporting for my flights, I always felt I was going to “confession“ at an Old California Mission.  Bless me, padre...before I risk my ass in the air!

     And so...on 8^th June, 1977, bright and early, I reported for my very first revenue flight...and was told by dispatch to: “Standby.”  So I sat beached at dispatch, drank coffee, and kicked rocks out on the ramp all day...wondering what I was doing here.  Wearing a sports jacket, slacks and tie - because my uniforms hadn’t been finished yet at the tailor’s – didn’t improve my mood.

     What sort of a “Mickey Mouse” outfit was this, dear reader?  I sure as hell didn’t feel like an airline pilot.

     Around 4:P.M. another gentleman in sports jacket, slacks and tie, entered dispatch all out of breath, grabbed the paperwork and me – then loaded us onto an empty DHC-6.  Next thing I know we’re running the “Pre-Start Check List.”

     Time out, dear reader: This gentleman hustling my ass aboard a “Twatter” was Capt. Biedebach – late forties, steel-grey close-crop hair - who had the last three fingers missing from his left hand!  When I discovered this in the cockpit, I thought I was about to fly with a “pirate”...not a pilot!  For his remaining left index finger and thumb could scarcely “pinch” the control wheel.  Can he really fly with that hand?  Is anybody cognizant of his impairment?

     The reason Capt. Biedebach was in civvies, similar to me, was his recent arrival from days off at Rio de Janeiro, Brazil!  Since “Goldy” fed passengers to all the major airlines, our interline agreements (free airline tickets) were literally “Golden.”  Hence, as he was single, Capt. Biedebach explored the globe at the drop of a hat.

     After firing up the turbo-prop engines, we made the long taxi-trek over to “Goldy’s” passenger terminal - exactly where the Tom Bradley International Terminal stands today.  Except in 1977 there was no international terminal.  Instead there were hundreds of empty square yards of asphalt ramp, with “Goldy’s” expanded trailers on wheels dumped in the middle, acting as its terminal for receiving passengers.

     LAX 1977. No International Terminal.

     LAX today with an International Terminal. No more Goldy’s trailers.

     A tip, dear reader: never work for an airline with offices in trailers on wheels.  Why?  They tend to disappear overnight with your last paycheck.  I repeat: the airline business is that flaky.

     I’m happy to report that Capt. Biedebach flew quite well with his remaining left thumb and index finger.  We accomplished two round trips to the Orange County Airport that afternoon - hauling full loads both ways (18 Passengers each) – without a hitch.  He even allowed me to fly two legs.  Not a bad first day for being a brand-new airline pilot; even if I didn’t have a uniform.

     One last note, dear reader: where we parked and shutdown our DHC-6 on that last leg - at “Goldy’s” LAX trailer-terminal – was of special historical importance to me.  If someone had told me that in ten years I’d be parking a Boeing 747-300 Big Top at that same location – I would have had them committed.

     LAX 1987 – parking “my 747” where Goldy’s trailers used to be.

     Not only is the airline business flaky...as you shall see...it is also unpredictably nuts!

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     The flying job with “Goldy” turned out to be “Banker’s Hours.”

     Pilot lingo, dear reader, meaning: I never had to do a layover and slept each night in my own bed.

     The runs we made in the DHC-6 were easy and short: LAX to: Oxnard, Santa Barbara, Inyokern, China Lake, Mojave, Palmdale, Fullerton, Orange County and Ontario.

     Eventually, Val finished out her probation with Western Airlines – both of us breathing a sigh of relief.  Sometimes we’d have dinner in our favorite, romantic Italian restaurant at Studio City wearing our uniforms.  Then we’d whistle off to our separate airline jobs in matching, compact Honda Civics. 

     Having more days off than me, Val would even join me once in a while as a passenger on my flights.  I remember one Halloween, in 1977, - rather than going “trick or treating” - Val accompanied me on a flight to the desert rat town of Inyokern.

      On Final Approach for RWY 33 at Inyokern Airport.

      Downtown Inyokern. Don’t blink when passing through or you’ll miss it.

     And what on earth would possess her to fly to such an “exotic location?”  In two words, dear reader: peach cobbler.

     There was this little mom and pop café, close to the Inyokern Airport, that served the best, home-made peach cobbler on the West Coast.

     From there we flew to the Mojave Airport, where, as first officer, it was my job to unload the mail sacks for an extra seven bucks; comparable to Howard Hughes.

     Howard Hughes the incognito First Officer.

     At one time – to “learn” the airline business - Hughes flew incognito as first officer for American Airlines, dear reader, and it was his job to load and unload mail sacks and baggage.  Unfortunately, when I did it, unlike Mr. Hughes, I wasn’t a billionaire.  Hold on...my eyes are beginning to tear up.

     Palmdale Regional Airport. 

     Then it was my leg to Palmdale.  Where I made the greasiest of smooth landings – prompting Val’s hand to shoot out of the dark passenger cabin behind me and squeeze my left shoulder - her way of saying: “Well done, Ace.”

     From the passenger’s cabin it’s easy to “squeeze” the co-pilot’s shoulder.

     They may not have been the easiest of days for us, dear reader; nonetheless, they had their good moments.

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