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My airline
career began in 1966 as a Pan American World Airways international
stewardess. I was single, healthy, bilingual, and taking birth-control
pills.
Worldwide, as we Pan Am stews pranced through airports in our high heels,
tight skirts, girdles, white gloves, pill box hats, identical hair cuts,
and pretty youthful faces, we looked like a multi-racial dance troup or a
flock of exotic birds.
I was hired by Pan Am when air travel was still relatively exclusive
and not without risks. Here's an example of what it was like
to fly around the world during the glory days of Pan Am.
GLORY DAYS OF PAN AM
One night, flying somewhere
over Asia, a first-class passenger told me that wherever wars broke out,
it was always more important for him to know the local Pan Am station manager
than to know his country's ambassador —beause it was the station manager
who could get him on a plane even from a war zone.
Here's another example. One day on the crew bus leaving Hong
Kong, the first officer told us that the night before he had
missed the last ferry from Hong Kong to Kowloon (where our hotel
was), so he had to hire a private boat. The boatman evidently
assumed that our out-of-uniform pilot was a foreigner with the
usual appetites and asked him, "You want nice girl?"
"No, thank you," the pilot said. A few minutes later,
the boatman asked the same question. This time, our pilot, wanting
to stop this conversation, replied, "I only like American
girls."
"Ay-ya," said the boatman. "The only bakgui [white
ghost] lady in Hong Kong is Pan Am stew."
In 1966, Pan Am bragged that among its 4,000 stews, 38 languages
were spoken. We stews had a glamorous life and picked our flights
each month from among 94 cities on 6 continents.
Also in 1966, Pan Am surprised the world when it announced its
plans to be the first airline to buy jets that could carry over
400 passengers.
Of course, this was the Boeing 747. Pan Am eventually purchased 40 Boeing
747s—and I eventually flew just about all of them as chief purser to
every corner of the globe.
GOING WITH THE FLOW
Pan Am went bankrupt in
the 80s, but you can still get a flavor of the times by watching the 2002
film, "Catch Me If You Can." It shows a bevy of Pan Am stews in
the 60s turning all heads and hearts at Miami Airport.
Flying was certainly fun, but while flitting around the world,
my own health problems took me in an unexpected direction. I
had to focus on my health, or I couldn't handle all the night
flying and time zone changes. The jetlag was horrific, and I
had to stay on my toes or I became ill.
While serving my passengers, I observed that flying affected their health
as well, and I became concerned for them—especially the elderly, the
occasional child, and frequent flyers, who like us never seemed to catch
up on their jetlag.
On board, while offering hot towels, drinks, food, and landing forms, healthy
flying ideas began to flow into my mind—and I wrote them down on Pan
Am cocktail napkins and food order forms.
At home I typed and retyped my notes. As soon as personal computers came
out, I got one. I wrote in all my spare time—there was a momentum inside
me. The writing energized me and had a life of its own. My first book, Jet
Smart, was a direct result of my own health problems caused by flying
and was eventually published 14 years after I started working on it.
NEAR-FATAL BLOOD CLOT
My second year with Pan
Am I nearly died from a blood clot that started with an injury on the plane.
While boarding, the aluminum door at the top of the runway stairs to the
plane blew shut and hit my leg. My hands were full with heavy bags, so I
couldn't stop the door from slamming on my leg.
In those days, chief pursers carried all the first class silver serving utensils,
including the roast beef carving knife. Imagine tweezers being taken away
from flight attendants today, when I used to fly with a 9-inch serrated knife
in my bag.
After takeoff, I was busy—and it wasn't until 12 hours later when we
arrived in Tokyo that I noticed my leg was swollen. I didn't see a doctor
and worked my next flight home, and a few days later I woke up with a sharp
pain in my lung. It was almost impossible to take a breath. In the hospital,
I was told that I had nearly died when a blood clot that had formed in my
injured leg (deep vein thrombosis) passed through my heart. And that this
clot was now in my lung (pulmonary embolism).
After 6 months, I went back to flying and all seemed well. Only 30 years
later did I understand that the blood clot was flight-related.
There are certain conditions on the plane which make it easier for blood
clots to form. These aircraft environmental factors start with the onboard
low air pressure and low humidity.
On top of this, my "required" uniform girdle contributed to the
propensity of my blood to clot after the injury to my leg. The girdle cut
off circulation at high altitude when the body automatically swells up. This
is why I always recommend that passengers wear loose
clothing.
Then there were the birth control pills that changed my body chemistry, so
I was in an "at-risk" category.
Looking back, I see that no matter how painful, this blood clot was a blessing
in disguise. Life became more precious after this incident, and I felt compelled
to do something useful with mine.
After nearly dying in my early 20s, I focused on helping others. My venue
was air travel and passenger advocacy, which became
my life's work.
FRESH
AIR
As a result of the pulmonary
embolism, I became very sensitive to toxins in the air. I remember one flight
after deregulation when my left lung was hurting
and I discovered that the pilot had deliberately
reduced the fresh air in the cabin (for the passengers and flight attendants).
Subsequently, I learned that pilots routinely reduced
the fresh air for passengers—but not for themselves—in order
to save fuel.
As time went by, I noticed that when the fresh air was reduced,
I had trouble thinking. For example, as chief purser, I had to
tally the accounts (from liquor, headsets, and duty-free purchases)
at the end of every flight.
When there was plenty of fresh air,
I had no problem doing the accounts, which included currency conversions.
But when the air was recirculated, I found I always had trouble
with the accounting, as well as difficulty breathing, and pain
in my lung.
DEREGULATION NEARLY KILLS ME
During my first
12 years of flying, I felt safe on planes in spite of the blood
clot incident. At work, I felt energized and tremendously enjoyed
my passengers.
The passenger-to-stewardess ratio in those days, by the way, was about double
what it is today.
By far, the worst change that came about after deregulation
was the recirculated air—we now got less than 50 percent fresh air.
On top of that, passengers were jammed in closer
together, so more people were competing for the meager fresh air
that trickled in through the air vents.
Deregulation achieved its goals of increased competition and lower airfares—the
number of airlines doubled, the number of passengers doubled, and airfares
went down. But now, looking back from where the airlines are today, deregulation
came at a terrible price in unacknowledged health
consequences for passengers and crew. For my part, the working conditions
became so poor that this resulted in the complete collapse of my health.
PESTICIDES IN PLANES
Today, many areas of airline
travel concern me. The most disturbing is the use of pesticides
in occupied cabins.
On certain international routes, poison is actually sprayed right
on passengers. During the years that I flew, I was in airplanes
when they were sprayed with pesticide hundreds of times.
The poison got in my lungs, on my skin, and in my eyes. Over
the years, my body became more vulnerable to these poisons.
MEDICAL GROUNDING
The weakness that descended
on me was insidious—I kept thinking I would get over it, but it only
got worse.
During my last year of flying, 1987, I fell ill on every flight
and had to use my days off to recover with the aid of medicine
and bed rest. I spent all my time off in bed trying to recuperate
for my next flight.
Finally, I was "medically grounded" with flu-like symptoms
that persisted for years. As it turned out, I spent the next
decade and a half struggling with my health.
On top of this, not being able to fly was a great personal loss. Flying had
been much more than a job—for 21 years I had an enchanting lifestyle
traveling around the globe.
I was diagnosed with "chemical poisoning" by George
Ewing, M.D., Chief of Allergy at Straub Hospital in Honolulu.
Three other specialists in environmental medicine subsequently confirmed
this diagnosis. They all said the cause of the poisoning was toxins
in the planes where I worked.
It was a shock to find out that my health problems were caused
by conditions on the plane.
I had become so acutely sensitive to toxins that I couldn't function in any
so-called "normal" environment— around anyone wearing chemicals,
even fabric softener in their clothes or deodorant, and certainly not perfume
or lotion. My eyes were acutely sensitive to light, and I was very weak.
YEARS OF HEALING AND REFLECTION
The pain of those years
is still so biting it is easier to speak of them metaphorically. . . I'm
on a trapeze. I've been flying along, doing stunts on the bar. Suddenly,
I can't see the catcher. I have to let go of the bar because I can't hold
on any more. There is no catcher! I fall.
And then a whole new world opens up to me. I discover a safety net that turns
out to be okay, and then, ultimately, a pretty interesting place.
But the safety net is not a permanent place, and I have to let go again,
and again—surrendering to the present challenges and living
on faith.
BIRTHING JET SMART
For many years, I hardly
left home. I wrote about air travel and eventually published Jet
Smart in 1992 at a time when I was still too ill to go on a book tour.
After an initial write up in a Hawaiian newspaper, Rotary Clubs
around the state began to invite me to speak. Hawaii is a tourist
destination, and many Rotarians at these meetings are tourists.
I thank all these Rotarians—they used to line
up after my talks to buy autographed copies of Jet Smart. Then they took
my books all over the world and talked about my work.
Barely 13 months after Jet Smart came out, a USA Today
feature called it "An underground hit," and Xerox, Johnson &
Johnson, and General Motors had purchased Jet Smart in bulk—GM bought
them for a convention in Detroit.
JET SMART READERS BRING CHANGE
I was quoted by many newspapers
and magazines (New York Times, Forbes, Business Week, International Herald
Tribune, London Times, Taipei Times, Tokyo Today, Veja Brazil), and interviewed
on syndicated radio shows such as Art Bell—all
from home.
Dateline, ABC News, and Hard Copy flew to Hawaii to interview me. CNN TV
had me on air answering questions for an hour.
There were hundreds of interviews in a couple of years because Jet
Smart broke dozens of stories about airline health and safety practices
and policies. Here are a few well-known examples:
Jet Smart broke the story
about contaminated drinking water on planes and
the lack of potable drinking water for passengers. My allegations were proven
7 years later by a Japanese study, and then again in 2002 by a Wall Street
Journal report.
• Jet Smart first broke the story about the dangerously high levels
of toxins on board. A toxin is a substance that
can cause death, mutations, reproductive malfunctions, diseases, and behavioral
problems in people, in animals, and in their offspring. Subsequently, there
have been lawsuits against airlines based on chemical toxicity.
• Jet Smart broke the story that pilots get
to breathe better air and that they deliberately reduce the oxygen in the
passenger cabins to save money for the airlines.
Whenever I was in the cockpit,
I could tell that the air was fresher and richer. And once I learned where
the fresh air toggle switches were located on the cockpit instrument panel,
I used to verify my perceptions with the switches—though I could always
tell anyway because of the pain in my lung. But pilots vigorously denied
that they had better quality air.
Even years later, after both USA Today and Smart Money quoted me about cockpit
vs. cabin air, a few pilots wrote to these publications, pecking
at my credibility.
The airlines finally admitted the truth in a press release about smoke-free
flights, saying passengers were guaranteed smoke-free air even if a pilot
smoked because the cockpit had separate air.
• Jet Smart first
broke the story about the horrific practice of spraying pesticides
on airline passengers while trying to kill agricultural insects. A worldwide
investigation followed, and at least 20 countries stopped spraying pesticides
in occupied aircraft cabins.
But dozens of countries still require the airlines
to spray while passengers are on board. Ongoing advocacy is urgently needed.
You may wonder why I toot my own horn about being the first to
bring these and other safety issues to the public.
First, I feel that it is important to occasionally attend to
my professional record in order to maintain the highest degree
of effectiveness and credibility in advancing my cause.
And I'd also like you to know, dear readers, that there is at least one recognized
expert who will continue to speak the truth,
regardless of pressures from the airline industry. |
