REMEMBERING PHILIPPINE AIRLINES #60

I was sitting at the computer thinking about the next Blog, and wondering what I would write. Then, I recalled that my daughter Karen had suggested that I write about some of the trips I had been on. So, here's one I took to the Philippines, in 1968.

Philippine Airlines and KLM had an agreement that the two airlines share routes and aircraft. Some of KLM's aircraft were painted with the Philippine Airline logo on one side and the KLM logo on the other. I recall that this caused quite a commotion at the Detroit airport, at one of our arrivals there. One of our charters was returning from Amsterdam and the control tower gave KLM permission to land. They had no idea that the KLM aircraft was painted with the Philippine logo on the other side. When the aircraft turned around at the end of the landing, to taxi to the terminal, the control tower went crazy. They had no idea how a Philippine Airlines jet had landed at Detroit without permission, and where was the KLM aircraft? It caused a lot of concern. When the tower finally figured it out, they wanted to kill me for not telling them. Problem was, I had no idea of the paint job either. I informed the companies to please have the pilots inform the tower, on all future flights, that they had a dual paint job.

Back in July or August of 1968, Philippine Airlines and KLM had decided to give a familiarization tour to the Philippines for some key KLM Sales Managers. The trip would be to Manila for three days, then on to the mountain city of Baguio for two days, and then to Hong Kong for three days. There were twenty selected participants. Stig Edgrig, KLM's Tours Manager, was our leader on the trip. Besides me, there were District and Regional Managers and a few of our top District Managers. It was a great trip, as P.A.L. had pulled out all the stops. In Manila, in addition to an intensive city tour, we explored the countryside. We took a boat trip to Corregidor to see where our troops had made a futile last stand against the Japanese in WWII. We entered the tunnels built in many areas throughout the island. On the outside, we saw all the old, rusted cannons that pointed out to sea. The main problem with them was that they could only shoot straight ahead; they had no way of turning the guns right or left. The Philippine, British, and American troops that were captured on Corregidor were taken on the infamous "Bataan Death March". When MacArthur returned to retake the Island, the Japanese occupiers took refuge in the many tunnels. They refused to come out and surrender, so the American troops just bulldozed the entrances close. They say that for several weeks you could hear the gun shots as the Japanese committed suicide rather than surrender. Not a very pretty story.

The President of P.A.L. invited us to his home for a gala dinner. I would call it more of a palace. You could sit at least fifty people in the dining room. What a contrast to the poverty we saw around Manila. I had noted the number of children who were carrying old empty five gallon containers that they would fill with water, and then carry them home. That was, no doubt, the family's water supply. I saw that they all seemed to be smiling and laughing with each other. I mentioned that fact to our host, to what he answered: "That's because they are happy with their lives". You couldn't help but make comparisons between the opulent life style of the wealthy and the way the rest of the people lived. Their homes were all walled in, surrounded by beautiful gardens, and cared for by many gardeners, maids and household workers. Our host thought it very funny when he secretly set off some firecrackers under the table. In some ways, the Philippines were a little child like.

During one of our tours in the countryside, I saw a family in a field cutting rice with some sort of interesting wooden cutting tool. I asked the driver to stop so I could take some pictures. One old man came out of the rice paddy and asked our driver if I wanted to take his picture. I took some pictures and had the driver ask the man if he would sell the wooden tool. He agreed and I gave him five dollars. The driver was a little dismayed; he said that was more than the old man could make in a year. No wonder the old guy was happy.

We flew on an old DC-3 P.A.L. aircraft up to the mountain village of Baguio. I noted that the pilot had a large telephone book that he sat on so he could see out the windshield. We also learned that the mountain jungle we flew over still had tribes that were head hunters; they lived their lives without ever seeing a white man. That made us all hope that the old DC-3 was in good working order. The USA had built a large Military field hospital and recovery center in Baguio. This was separated from the nearby village. The village was very interesting; you would see villagers shopping at open air markets; there were bamboo cages with live chickens for sale. Several people had live chickens hanging from their waist by a string. Because they had no refrigeration, the chickens were carried home live, killed, and eaten for dinner. The most modern structure in the village was an orphanage, and must have been built after the war. The orphanage was run by nuns and the children all seemed well cared for. They sold handmade wood items in a little gift shop. I purchased several carved wood Madonna images, to bring home as gifts. Returning to Manila that night on the same old DC-3, we again stayed overnight at the beautiful Manila Hotel that had been our home for the previous three nights. The next day it was off to Hong Kong.

Hong Kong was an exciting place to visit. It was here that the U.S. sent their military personnel for leave during the Vietnam War; it was a shopper's paradise. The first night we were taken to the famous Floating Restaurant in Aberdeen Harbor. It was decorated with Cantonese red lanterns, gold swirling dragons and traditional Chinese motifs. Of course, fish was the main menu. On the side of the restaurant, there were fish pens; the waiter would use a net to pick out a live fish and show it to you for your approval, before cooking it.

On the following day, we were taken back to Aberdeen Harbor to see the hundreds of small fishing junks, tethered together to form a living communities of Chinese people. We were told that almost every morning the authorities would patrol the waters and pick up the corpses of people who had died during the night. Families living on the junks had little money to pay for burials, so they just rolled the deceased into the sea, for the authorities to take care of. I understand that in the very poor areas of the city, they just left the dead by the side of the road.

Our hotel was just outside Kowloon Park. I could look out the window in the morning and watch throngs of people doing their morning exercises. It was well known in Honk Kong that you could order a suit in the morning and wear it that night. Several of us decided to purchase a suit. The tailor came to our rooms with samples of fabric; once selected and a price determined, the tailor would take your measure; at noon they would be back for a fitting, and about five PM they delivered the final product. The fabric was mostly British fine woolens, and the fit was great. I had mine for several years. There were many small shops where craftsmen carved beautiful chests or worked in silver or gold. I purchased a large round brass tray that could be made into a table or hung on the wall. I gave it to Kirby, just last year. In one small shop they printed "Funeral Money". This was placed in the coffin to assure the dead person had money on their arrival in heaven. Another market sold gold fish, I'm sure there was nothing you might want, that you couldn't find in Hong Kong.

On the third day in the area, I took the Catamaran boat to Macau, the former Portuguese colony on the border with China. It is a very picturesque town built by the Portuguese, but later harbored several different nationalities. Most people go to Macau for the Casinos, which were packed with Chinese gamblers. I contributed a few dollars to their economy and then walked up a road to the Chinese/Macau border, where the armed Red Guard kept watch. I was told that the Chinese often pushed their citizens, who were sick or infirm, across the border at night, so they didn't have to care for them. At that time China was closed to tourism, so I didn't cross the border. One thing that I did note was a very large Levi's factory very close to the border. I imagine that was to employ cheap Chinese labor. It's been going on for a while, I guess.

The following day we boarded our P.A.L. jet to SanFrancisco, and then, on to New York.

 

 

 

NEW YORK, NEW YORK #59

January in New York can be pretty cold, and 1972 was no exception. On top of that there was a work dispute with the garbage collectors; trash was building up along with the winter snows. New Yorkers, however, seem to take everything in stride. I guess I could now classify myself as a New Yorker. Remembering back to the 1940's when I was in the Canadian Army, and visited New York for a day. I was so impressed when I viewed the city from the top of the Empire State Building, to which I had hoped to return some day. There is a difference between being a one day visitor and a full time resident. As a resident you have to cope with realities of day to day living in a cosmopolitan city of millions of people. Although I had been living in New York for several years, it was on a part time basis and I could escape the city with my business travels and weekends at home. Now New York was to be my full time home. Fortunately, I could still escape on business and I would take full advantage of being able to do so.

It was time to catch up on the District Office visits that I had promised to Kielman, the big boss. Unlike the assistant regional manager's job where I was only involved in the Eastern Regional offices, I now had the additional offices that made up the USA organization. The main stations for charters were New York, Boston, Miami, Detroit, Chicago, and the West Coast. There was no reason why all stations couldn't get charter business, and I wanted to prove that Atlanta, Dallas, Charlotte and other smaller districts could sell charters too. My plan was to reach out to our largest producers first and then get to the others, as soon as possible. The main stations only produced two or three charters per year, except for Detroit, that was producing about fifteen per year. So, the potential was great.

In the first few months, I made calls on our main stations and spoke to all their managers and staff. Even though they were producing, their knowledge was still limited. It was very apparent that my idea of writing a sales manual had become even more important. I decided to complete the manual, prior to visiting more cities. I had phone contact with them all, and knew all the managers from meetings and seminars that we had all attended in the past. In the next couple of months, between meetings in Amsterdam every couple of weeks, I was able to complete the manual. Over the next few weeks I invited each manager to assign one of their staff to become the charter expert in their office, and send that person to an indoctrination meeting in the New York office. I set up dates in New York for several meetings and invited Charter Managers from the Netherlands to attend and contribute to the success of the training sessions. Each attendee was given a copy of the manual to take back to their station.( I keep in touch with a number of my old friends in KLM and they tell me that even after all these years that old manual is still in most of the offices.)

I was combining the meetings in New York with field visits to some of our smaller sales offices. I recall our Sales Representative in Charlotte, NC. His nick name was Johnny Mac. He was a good old southern boy. He was a great salesman and everybody loved him. I would accompany him on some of his sales calls; we would drive in his company car in which he had installed a special horn that blasted "Dixie". I didn't know of the horn until one day we were travelling a country road to the next sales call, when I saw a young black boy, walking along the side of the road ahead of us. As we approached the boy, Johnny Mac hit the horn. That young man must have jumped five feet in the air. I must admit that it was pretty funny but I told Johnny Mac that the horn had to go. It was not in keeping with the KLM image. I still remember Johnny Mac, as I'm sure others do, as a great salesman and a fun person to be with. Whenever I got to Charlotte, he would invite me to dinner at his home. He had a very nice wife and a couple of boys. I don't know if he ever took out the horn. I never asked him.

 

GOODBYE ITALY, HELLO NEW YORK #58

It was good to be back in my office in New York, and in my own apartment. I was hoping that I could stay put for awhile. I loved to travel and hoped to do much more, but, it's always good to have a place of your own, a place where you can put your feet up and just relax. I guess it's more than just an apartment; it's a sanctuary from the everyday stress of schedules, deadlines, and budgets.

The office staff seemed happy to have me back; of course, I had to prepare reports and expense accounts for the Auto Owners' trip. Money wise, the trip was not that expensive for the company. Transportation did not cost anything as all the airline travel was on free passes. Hotels were all complimentary, as were a lot of meals. The major expense was on car rentals and a few meals. Rudy Postmaa, who traveled with me, paid all his own expenses. With all reports, both written and orally completed, I was turning my thoughts to the district offices and the charter manual that I was writing for them.

Although I was in New York during the week, I was commuting back and forth to Michigan every weekend that I could. I had missed a couple of weekends during the Auto Owners trip in May of 1971. So I was trying to make up every weekend that I could. Helen had been very angry that I was missing some weekends, especially the two in May. I decided to take a couple of weeks off and take care of some building projects that she wanted to do at Island Lake in Rose City, Michigan.

The home at Island Lake was built on a hill overlooking the lake. Helen wanted a series of stairs and landings leading from the house down to the lake. It would also be a good idea to build a large deck out the side of the house and a large shed to keep the snowmobiles. Kirby was an avid snowmobiler in winter and fisherman in summer. Anyway, I took the days off and built the decks, stairs and shed. Still, relations at home were not good. Except for the two weeks, I saw very little of my children. It seemed that they had gotten used to my not being around, and had things going on in their lives that kept them busy every weekend that I was there. I missed them very much. It was New years Eve 1971/72, when I was at Island Lake. Helen and I got into a serious argument over my work, and this led to our separation and later divorce.

Looking back over the years, Helen was never happy over my leaving EasternAirlines for KLM. She was of the opinion that when you joined a company, you stayed with them until you get a gold watch and retired. That was her life experience with her family. Her father had a job and worked there most of his adult life until retirement. I take full responsibility for our breakup. My work had developed into something that Helen and I had not anticipated; she was a good mother and a hardworking homemaker. I'm sure she never anticipated my many days away, where she would have to be both mother and father to three young children. Looking at my children today, she did a good job, and I will always be thankful to her for that.

1972 didn't start off too well from a personal point of view; I wouldn't be a commuter to Michigan any more. I would settle in New York. Life is sure funny, it can up and bite you when you least expect it. In any event, I had my job and a place to live. I drove down to the KLM Detroit office and turned in the company car; I wouldn't need that any more. Fortunately, it was New Years day so I just left the keys, along with a note that I did not need the car any more. I was happy that I didn't have to speak with anyone. I took a taxi to the airport and flew back to New York.