CURVE CAFE' a.k.a. CURVE INN

On a recent Sunday drive, much to my amazement, I noticed the Curve Cafe still stands, albeit empty--likely for some years. The exterior still looks the same as when "Marty Zimmer" and I went slumming there years ago during my frequent Cincinnati visits. Now, as then, it's best to have a Rottweiler companion if walking the neighborhood (day or night). The doorway has been boarded-up and there's a rotting drape behind the barred windows.

As detailed in my memoir Up, Up and Astray, and subsequent adaption into a series pilot script, some fun times were had there--until we learned Bobby was home from prison and eager to meet us. I suppose "Clyde" the one-arm owner/bartender must have passed to the "Big Saloon in the Sky" some time ago.

The Annual World Airlines Christmas Party-Vegas Style!

Las Vegas Boulevard-circa late 60's

Back in the sixties, before Las Vegas became a mecca for meetings and conventions, the Strip resembled a ghost town during the first two weeks of December. It was between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Many gamblers had already spent their discretionary income (and more) on upcoming holiday travel and gift purchases, which left the hotels deserted (no pun intended) and desperate to fill vacant rooms.

The city's population had blossomed from 64,000 to 125,000 during the sixties (little compared to today's population of more than 680,000 and Clark County's total over 2 million). Although development was bustling, there was still much more to complete. As I mentioned in my memoir: while walking the strip, it was common to see sagebrush from the barren desert areas between casinos, blowing across Las Vegas Boulevard.

The casinos needed customers who, if nothing else, enabled them to keep their employees working and pay their electric bills (all those flashing neon signs aren't cheap!) So, who would visit this place during this lull in visitor traffic? How about folks, mostly single, who have decent discretionary income, and easy, cheap (if not free) access to Las Vegas by air. Oh, how about airline personnel-from all over the world?

Complimentary Souvenir Chips

From this idea was born the Annual World Airlines Christmas Party at the Sahara Hotel. These 'parties' began in 1957, with rooms costing only $8 per night. Upon checking in, each airline employee was given a little bag of free and highly discounted goodies. Cocktail parties were hosted by different airlines. One could start drinking Bloody Marys at an Alaska Airlines party at 9:00am. Bonanza Airlines may throw a cocktail party after lunch, and the large international carriers took turns hosting an evening cocktail gala. The Christmas party lasted 2 weeks, to accommodate crazy airline work schedules. Although most (myself included) could not last more than 2 nights of non-stop partying.

I heard from 'good sources' that well-connected airline reservation supervisors in attendance were provided with 'special favors' from hotel concierges who often called upon them to oversell last-minute seats for their high-rollers. Yes, those airline parties of the sixties actually reflected the fun times of job security, no computer monitors of employee performance, and the general positive enthusiasm about working for an airline. That enthusiasm naturally carried over to the passengers we served. I'm so pleased to have attended the 1968 party. Those times may be behind me, but the memories aren't.

When You Could "Light Up" the Sky

vintage cigarette ad

One of the put-downs posited by deniers of a Golden Age of Air Travel is the fact that smoking on board aircraft was permitted. That's true, TWA didn't even allocate no-smoking sections on its planes until 1970.

As a matter of fact, during much of the Golden Age--up to the late sixties--smoking was actually encouraged by the major air carriers. I'm not advocating smoking, but I have to admit passengers were much more friendly and pleasant on flights back then as opposed to now.

Complimentary small packs of cigarettes and matches

Before and during that era, lighting up was an acceptable--if not glorified--form of adult behavior. Like many millions who were adults prior to the 1970s, I was born and raised in a second-hand smoke environment--if not at home, at almost every public place. Whether we smoked or not, over time, our respiratory systems just seemed to become acclimated to secondary cigarette smoke all around us. During that time, non-smokers on board planes usually turned on the overhead air vents and let it go at that. Some non-smokers even offered their complimentary meal-tray packs to the smokers sitting beside them.


The point I'm making here is that, back then, generally speaking, cigarette smoke just didn't seem nearly as offensive to non-smokers as it is has increasingly become since the early seventies.

There were however, still the occasional problems. Cigar smoking, which by the way, was never tolerated on board planes. There's the story about a cigar smoker in first class of a TWA 707 who refused repeated pleas from the hostess to stop. Upon hearing about this, the captain, with the cockpit fire extinguisher in hand, approached the flagrant smoker saying. "If you don't put it out, I will." The cigar was immediately snuffed. As was eventually all smoking on flights.

A personal note here: At the age of 47, after more than 30 years smoking several packs a day of Camel regulars, I suffered a mild heart attack. I credit my smoking habit as the main cause. Upon my subsequent smoking cessation, I experienced a withdrawal evolution taking me more than five years to progress, from loving the aroma of cigarette smoke, to despising it. Now it sickens me to smell the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. When I see today's smokers puffing away inside glass cages in airports, or outside in sub-freezing temps, I'm thankful I'm no longer a slave to that strong addiction.

Writer's Outtake, Episode 3 - Donkeys, Camels, and Goats Oh My!

In the Spring of 1969, I was among 12 TWA sales reps selected to take a five-day quick tour of the Holy Land, compliments of a Chicago tour wholesaler who specializes in Holy Land tours. Other than the significant historical aspects of the the tour, I most remember several offbeat cultural experiences.

My room at the Mount Scopus Hotel on the West Bank was located on the lower level, rear. Outside my window was an open field with rocky ground cover and a smattering of olive trees. In the middle of the night I was awakened by a loud braying of he-haws. Jumping from bed and parting the drapes, I was surprised-and I must say, amused-to see a jackass, no more than 15 feet away, looking at me. He stopped braying when he saw me. We stared at one another for five seconds or so before he turned and moved away. I wonder if he got his kicks by waking hotel guests on the ground floor. I have to admit I have been awakened several times by jackasses (rowdy hotel guests) but this was the first time it was a real "jackass".

Another animal-related experience occured in the Old City of Jerusalem. I was standing in front of an open-air meat market, observing cuts of meats hung on a wall drawing flies, when something brushed against my calves. Turning around, expecting to see an unruly toddler, I was surprised to see a herd of goats passing by (something I'll never see at my neighborhood grocery store).

A moving cultural experience happened as we drove through the desert. I had an opportunity to meet, and have my picture taken, with two Bedouin boys. I wish I had more time to spend with them. I

couldn't help but think how different our lives were. Here I was being driven through the desert in an air-conditioned limousine and they spend their whole lives herding camels and goats thru the desert. I'm sure we both could have learned a lot from each other.

I often like to pick up souveniors to take home on my travels. This time I bought a Coke by the Dead Sea at Jericho. Upon my return to the U.S., a customs agent held it up and asked "Why this?"
"Turn it around," I answered.

He then noticed it had the English on one side and the Hebrew on the other. The Coke is one of the cheapest souvenirs I've ever bought, yet one of the most unique. I don't know if Hebrew Coke tastes any different, It's still sitting on my shelf unopened.

Chaplin Autograph Forty Five Years Later

Just came upon this while thumbing through some of my TWA memorabilia. In my memoir,
Up, Up and Astray, I've recounted having Charlie Chaplin and his entourage on my flight from Los Angeles to London after Mr. Chaplin was presented an honorary Academy Award. Although his movies were before my time, I was delighted to get his autograph for my mother. She adored Charlie Chaplin. The only paper I could find on board the plane was TWA stationery. I also kept the envelope with the postmark from Hounslow, UK dated April 13, 1972. While writing brings back memories, having something physical from the past almost brings it back to life. I'll never forget how excited mom was to get Chaplin's autograph.

Of all the Hollywood celebs I met while working
flights out of LAX, Mr. Chaplin was the only one
I asked for an autograph (for my mom, Ellen).

Writer's Outtake Episode 1 - Death In Flight

Credit-Neil/Rob Melnychuk Getty Images

When DCS (Director Customer Service) John McGlade made his departure announcement on TW841 as the 747 taxied from the gate at Rome's Flumicino Airport terminal, he anticipated a routine flight to New York. John was pleased to announce the flight's anticipated on-time arrival at JFK. The flight was full, with close to 200 passengers having connections to make at JFK. But this was no routine flight. Having recently attended a TWA reunion in Tucson, I got to relive John's tale of what happened next.

Shortly after takeoff from Rome, a troubled flight attendant located John in the front of the the aircraft, asking him to immediately follow her to the rearmost cabin in economy. Simultaneously, another flight attendant was paging for a doctor or nurse to ring their call bell. By the time John rushed to the scene, several nearby doctors and nurses were attending to the passenger, a grandfather, flying back home to the U.S. with his 13-year-old granddaughter.

The man appeared to have died instantly, likely from a massive heart attack. As there were no empty seats available to relocate the deceased, John had the flight attendant place a blanket over the grandfather's head and recline his seat, until John discussed the situation with the captain.

The captain, told John he would return to Rome, as they were only about 30 minutes airborne. Obvious to the captain, nine more hours of a full flight with a corpse on board was unthinkable. John thought otherwise. He told the captain that the man's family will have enough grief as it is, without having to go through a myriad of paperwork and additional agony to bring back the body from Italy. He also remarked that more than half of the passengers would miss their connection flights at JFK. Also, if they returned to Rome, Italian authorities may keep the plane at the gate for some required investigation after removing the body. This could cause the crew to become illegal to fly, thus requiring cancellation of the flight.

"So, where do you expect to put the body?" asked the captain.
"On the floor, behind the coach-lounge bar." answered John. "The coach lounge is closed to economy passengers on international flights due to IATA (International Air Transport Assn.) rules."
"Okay." nodded the captain. "We'll continue on to New York. Do what you've gotta do."

Luckily, John was one of only two DCS's hired with a background in TWA's maintenance department. In no time at all, he proceeded to the rearmost lavatory and removed the door. It was used as a stretcher for John and some volunteers to transport the blanket-covered corpse to the coach-lounge.

For the remainder of the flight, one of the lady passengers, a nurse, sat beside the grieving and shaken granddaughter. Showing typical TWA employee compassion and proactivity, a ground hostess at JFK voluntarily accompanied the granddaughter to her final destination on her connecting flight.

I personally applaud John for his handling of a delicate and sad situation with creativity and dignity. He was an excellent example of what the DCS program was all about.

The Real Thing This Time

The Booksellers on Fountain Square

Although I'm now a published author, I must concede that words cannot describe how I feel, seeing my memoir displayed here at The Booksellers on Fountain Square (Joseph Beth Books and Roebling Books as well).

Now, I have a confession to make, about something that's not in my memoir. It's something I hadn't told my wife about till just now. It occured during my earlier life, when I was a student patrolman at the University of Cincinnati. Early one Sunday morning, when the library building was closed, I used my master key to admit myself and my friend Denny Cooper. We went to the card catalogue desk, removed two blank cards, then typed in bogus names of books that we "authored." Denny, who had worked in a library during high school, gave each book a logical, but phony, Dewey Decimal number.

I remember the title of my 'book' had something to do with cybernetics. Maybe this was my first subconscious indication that I wanted to be a real author someday. That was over 50yrs ago. I guess it's a good lesson, you're never too old to give up on your dreams!

Before There Was BAYWATCH...There Was BREECH

Breech Academy Summer 1970

Admittedly, I would never be mistaken for David Hasselhoff, but some of the TWA 'hostesses' could easily rival the Baywatch beauties. Plus, we all had extensive ditching training. Uh, sorry I meant to say extensive 'water landing' training. When I think of this airline euphemism, I can imagine my late idol, George Carlin shouting with gusto, "We no longer 'stand by' for 'ditching'!" Then in a softer, more effeminate voice he continues, "We're going to have to 'get ready' for a...'water landing.'" And if you're wondering, no, I don't usually wear a life jacket at hotel pools. Behind me is Breech Academy, TWA's training center for cabin crews.

Call it what you want, an aircraft evacuation in a body of water is, in my opinion the most difficult safety maneuver to execute. In the calm of Breech's pool, it took all I had to pull myself up into the 25-man life raft. I can imagine how difficult it is to enter the raft amidst ocean swells.

On the other hand, when on terra firma, taking a ride down the 747's evacuation slide from 18 feet above the ground is a piece of cake. The dual slides even allow you to bring a buddy along. A velcro surface at the bottom stops you from spilling out onto the runway, grass, sand (whatever). 

If you enjoy riding in the upper deck of the 747-400 series, the secondary evacution route is from a height of 35 feet, or about 50-some feet of slide. Now that's a real thrill! So ladies, while you may want to see Hasselhoff at the beach, I can guarantee you'd rather be sitting next to me on a plane if things get rough.

'Shaving Down My Bucket List'

   Bucket List items shouldn't necessarily consist of such feats as climbing El Capitan at Yosemite or milking cobra's venom in Thailand. No. They can be less risky and more accessible, like enjoying evening cocktails at the 107 Sky Lounge in Las Vegas, or renting an exotic car for an afternoon drive while vacationing in Miami.

For the past two years, my wife, Stacey, and I have manned a water station for the Price Hill Pacer's Charity Run, in neighboring Cincinnati. It was located on West Eight Street, in front of Grote's Barber Shop. There I noticed a window sign promoting 'Hot Towel Shaves.' Childhood memories of waiting for my turn in the barber's chair while watching men get those shaves came back to mind.

Hot towel shaves have become a relic of the past. Today, men tend to look at shaving as a necessary evil. Get it done-fast! Fine, but that's not what hot towel shaves are about. They're about relaxing and disengaging from your typical world for thirty minutes. Don't even think about checking your smart phone, or even talking, while a licensed expert glides a straight-razor against your face and throat--unless an ambulance ride is on your bucket list. For me a hot towel shave is the guy's version of a lady's spa visit.

Terry Grote has been giving hot towel shaves for over 40yrs.

By the way, ladies, perhaps you should consider pampering your guy to a hot towel shave for his birthday. It's the least we deserve after all those years of spa gift certificates.

A 4th of July Surprise

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to 

Ohio State University where the local time.....

  Not what you'd expect to hear when you book a flight from Chicago to Columbus, Ohio.

   Today, July 4th, marks the 50th anniversary of the landing of a TWA Boeing 707 at Ohio State University's Don Scott Field--Instead of Port Columbus!

   It was approaching midnight as Captain Chittenden, commanding TW30 from Chicago O'Hare to (supposedly) Port Columbus, descended the four-engine jet below the overcast, then announced he had the runway in sight. Yes. The runway for the WRONG airport. Land the plane, he did, on OSU's short 4400-foot runway, with 1000 feet to spare

   The east-west runway at Don Scott has roughly the same heading as the one at Port Columbus located some 10 miles southeast.

CMH Citizens Journal Front Page July 5th, 1967

   After the passengers were bussed to Port Columbus, another 707 was ferried from Kansas City to Port Columbus overnight, in order to be flown on a scheduled flight to JFK in the early morning. The strayed 707 was flown from Don Scott to Port Columbus later that morning by TWA's Superintendent of Flying.

   A week after the 'Don Scott episode.' I and two other TWA sales reps from Cincinnati attended a regional sales meeting at our Pittsburgh office. When the sales reps from Columbus walked in, my colleague Phil Pateneaude yelled out, "Did you guys fly in from Port Columbus or Ohio State?" We all had a good laugh--including the Columbus reps.

   Actually, airliner landings at the wrong airport are not that uncommon. 

NY Daily News Planes Landing at Wrong Airports