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.

 

 

ROME, THE ETERNAL CITY #57

After visiting and working in Naples, Rudy and I drove north and accessed the modernized section of the Appian Way to Rome, at Capua. The original Appian Way, was built in 312 BC to move the Roman Armies South, parts of which are still in use today and have many important historical landmarks. All of Italy is full of history going back many centuries before the birth of Christ. Although Rudy and I were going to Rome to finalize the arrangements for the Auto Owners groups, I was certainly going to take time to explore more of the city. I had been to Rome in the summer of 1962, when I had spent a couple of days there with the family on a European vacation, including Holland and Greece.

The drive to Rome took us along the coast and through the Appian Mountains. It took us about five or six hours before arriving in the city and driving down the Via Vittorio Veneto to the famous Excelsior Hotel. We were happy to learn that the hotel was providing us with a two bedroom suite. Shortly after checking in, we received a phone call from Antonio Del Balzo, who identified himself as the Sales Manager for the Excelsior; he was welcoming us to the hotel and invited us to dine with him that evening. We met that evening in the cocktail lounge. Del Balzo had brought along Dr. Alberto Scialenga, Director of Marketing for CIGA Hotels. After a cocktail, we had dinner in the dining room. I was a little amazed how the staff attended us, even the chef came to the table to be sure we were happy with what he had prepared. Dr. Scialenga spoke about the history of C.I.G.A. Hotels and about how many American guests stay at his hotels. They were represented by H.R.I., a large firm in New York, and had booked a few groups from some of the U.S. travel agents that I knew. He was a very interesting gentleman who had travelled a great deal in the States. He was very likeable and I was sure that he liked his job very much. He made us both seem very welcome. Del Balzo, on the other hand, seemed happy to let Alberto do the talking. After our very special dinner, Rudy made an appointment with Del Balzo for the next morning to discuss the needed rooms and agree on a rate. We were talking about fourteen hundred people, so Rudy was expecting a very reasonable rate.

I left the hotel negotiations to Rudy as it was up to him to give Auto Owners a land package price, per person. I had already given them my price for the KLM charters. I wanted to visit the Le Grand Hotel, the sister hotel to the Excelsior. Although the Excelsior was a deluxe category, the Le Grand was even a more traditional, old world, luxury property that catered to the very wealthy, titled and celebrated clientele. They never took groups, no matter how important they were. I met Sr. Mario Miconi, who I found out also managed the Excelsior. He arranged to have one of his staff show me the hotel. I spent about two hours visiting rooms, suites, dining rooms and sitting rooms. I even got to visit the back of the house, kitchens, and housekeeping. At the time, Richard Burton and Elizabeth were staying at the hotel with all their cats. Unfortunately, I didn't get to meet them. I was very impressed with the property, I'm sure the artwork and oil paintings alone were worth a small fortune.

After a coffee and snack at a sidewalk café, I went to St. Peters and spent the rest of the afternoon admiring this great Basilica's art treasures. I even got into the Vatican treasury which is open to the public. I have no idea how many millions of dollars are represented by the gifts from all over the world, for centuries, to the Popes. They were comprised of gold statues, bejeweled vessels, paintings and art; some had been gifts from the very poor, some from the wealthy or from world leaders. I also managed to get down into the catacombs under St. Peters, where a number of Popes are buried. There was so much to see, so much to learn. From St Peters I took a taxi to Trevi Fountain, where I tossed in a coin to assure my return to Rome. When I got back to the hotel, Rudy told me of his visit with Del Balzo and the rate he had obtained. It was not as low as he wanted but he felt that eventually he could get it down and would later make some calls from his office when he got home. In the mean time he had his blocked room space. We had dinner at a local restaurant on the Via Veneto, a night cap at the hotel bar, and retired. On the following day, we would take a flight to Amsterdam and a connecting KLM flight to New York.

AN INTERESTING FLIGHT TO ROME #56

Yugoslavian Airlines were not quite up to KLM standards but Rudy and I had no other choice flying between Zagreb and Rome. The flight was jam packed with Italian oil workers from oil fields somewhere East of Yugoslavia; they were returning to Rome for vacation time. Seats on the aircraft were three abreast and Rudy and I got the last two middle seats in different rows. In my row, I had a burley oil worker on each side. We were hardly off the runway when the workers started to pass a bottle of whiskey back and forth in front of me. It was obvious that they had already consumed about half the bottle before landing in Zagreb. They tried to talk to me, but I didn't speak Italian and they knew no English, so they decided to communicate in sign language. Smiling broadly, they pointed to the bottle and then to my mouth. I shook my head no, but they were quite insistent; looking at their size, I thought that rather than create an international incident, I would take a swallow. This was followed by a couple of more swallows; I don't know what I was drinking, but after a couple of swigs, it didn't taste too bad. They finished the bottle just before landing at Rome's airport. Getting up to disembark they shook my hand and slapped me on the back. I didn't understand a word they said, but it sounded very friendly.

After clearing immigration, we proceeded to the baggage claim area. Unfortunately my suitcase was nowhere to be found. It was a mob scene in the terminal and any one could have picked it up, perhaps by mistake; maybe they didn't load it on the plane in Zagreb, although Rudy and I were the only two passengers getting on that flight. My bag was an almost new two-suiter and besides all my clothes, toiletries etc. I had my camera and pictures. The baggage supervisor called Zagreb, but they said that it was not there. I have a picture in my mind of some Arab riding a camel wearing my Brooks Bros. suit.

We rented a car and took off for Naples; we wanted to see the Excelsior Hotel where the Automobile Owners groups would be staying. We also wanted to look into local activities that the groups could do during their two day stay in Naples, before their trip to Rome. The Excelsior Hotel was a member of the C.I.G.A. chain of deluxe properties. It sits overlooking a beautiful bay and the harbor of Saint Lucia. It was built in 1909 to be fashioned after the Ritz of Paris, the London Savoy, and The Le Grand Hotel in Rome. My daughter Karen stayed there when she was in Naples, touring Europe. The rooms either looked out over the bay or the now dormant Mount Vesuvius. That evening we had a wonderful dinner, a drink at the bar, and then retired early as we had lots to do and see in the morning.

After a hearty breakfast Rudy and I set off to visit Pompeii, the famous city that was buried for centuries after Mt. Vesuvius erupted, in AD 79. It was mostly a forgotten city until the 18^th century when it was accidentally rediscovered. Ever since, there have been extensive excavations. It's fascinating to walk the narrow streets and think of the Roman chariots that once traversed those roads. A number of buildings have well preserved frescos on their walls. A small museum has many artifacts dug from the ground, including petrified remains of people and animals preserved in the lava that they could not escape. This was going to be one of the day trips on the A.O. tour, for sure.

Naples has many small restaurants and bars with lots of local charm and color. Rudy wanted to plan one dinner in a local restaurant, but we couldn't find one that would seat 200 plus people. After visiting one restaurant and speaking to the owner, but deciding that it wouldn't do, the owner came running after us crying out that he would build one for us. Rudy decided that we would just have to use the hotel dining room at the Excelsior. It was a beautiful room with opulent décor, walled in long mirrors, hung with white glass chandeliers and draped in pure silk. A wonderful room, elegant, but it was still a hotel, and Rudy wanted to give the group some local color.

We had the opportunity to meet with Massimo Rosati, the Hotel Manager. Rudy had to sit down with him and negotiate the rate per night, the meals, and any extras that might be needed. I excused myself as I didn't want to be involved in Rudy's negotiations; he would fill me in later. I used the time to walk around the city and take in as much as I could of the local atmosphere. I know that there was a lot of destruction during the war when the American Army invaded. There were still signs here and there, but the city had survived and was very much alive. The first morning we were in Naples, I had taken off and done some early morning shopping. I still had a few things to purchase, including a suitcase, so I put the time to good use.

Tomorrow, we would drive up the Apian Way to Rome and the Excelsior. I was looking forward to exploring Rome

ON THE ROAD TO DUBROVNIK #55

Our road to Dubrovnik started in Amsterdam, where Rudy and I boarded a KLM flight to Zagreb, in what used to be Yugoslavia, in the days of Tito. Our plan was to rent a car in Zagreb and drive through the Dinaric Alps to Dubrovnik, which is located on the coast of the Adriatic Sea. The Dinaric Alps are not anywhere as high as the Swiss Alps, but are a continuation of the Swiss Chain. Zagreb is now the Capitol of Croatia, very near the Slovenia boarder.

Since KLM was paying for renting the car, it was decided that I would drive, a decision that I should have given a little more attention to. The route took us through what is now Bosnia Herzegovina. I would have to say that I certainly had driven on better roads, as this one twisted and turned through the mountains. I have always considered myself a good driver, but these roads had no guard rails; on top of this, it was raining. The car would slip and slide, and we came close to a nasty drop into the valley below. Finally we came upon a roadside restaurant that didn't look too bad, (and I needed to get my breath back); I pulled in so we could get a bite to eat. Neither Rudy nor I spoke Croatian and this was a very modest, local restaurant. When we walked in, all conversation stopped, as the locals stared at this couple of tourists. We managed to get a menu, which unfortunately had no English or Dutch subtitles. We had no idea what we were ordering, so we just pointed to an item that looked like it was something we thought would sure suit our purpose.

Lesson number one: never order anything that you have no idea of what it is. It ended up that we had ordered wild boar head. The plate that was put before me was one half of a boar's head, complete with one ear and one eye, which seemed to stare at me. The ear still had hair on it. I have to give Rudy credit, because he ate his. I'm sure the cook probably enjoyed mine, as I just left it on my plate. We had changed some money in Zagreb, so we paid the amount shown on the menu, left a more than a generous tip, and took our leave. We heard a lot of laughter as the door closed behind us. Thankfully, Rudy agreed to take over the driving. I'm sure that I had given him some white hair on a few of the curves, when I was driving.

It was late afternoon, when we arrived just outside Dubrovnik, since you cannot drive into the city, we checked into a local hotel on the outskirts. I don't recall the name of the hotel, but I remember that it was modern and had no doubt been built after World War Two. I was happy to see that it was a hotel that catered to the international trade. We had single rooms that were very comfortable, and had dinner in the hotel restaurant, that had an English menu. Walking around the hotel after dinner I was surprised to see that it had a casino; the casino was owned by the owners of Hurrah's Club in Reno Nevada. I'll tell you more about that later, we retired early as we wanted to see the city in the morning.

Dubrovnik was a city built during the Middle Ages. We learned that it achieved a great deal of its growth and development in the 15^th and 16^th centuries, when it was a major seaport and a center of trade; it was walled, to protect it from the constant threats by the Ottoman Empire and by Venice. There is no vehicle traffic within the city; the narrow cobblestone streets are lined with small shops and many quaint open air restaurants, that serve wine and local liquor to patrons at small tables outdoors, and in tree lined squares. The town is built on a hill; some of the streets are quite steep, others lead down to the sea and the old fortresses. Rudy had chartered an Epirotiki Line cruise ship that would carry the Auto Owners group between Dubrovnik and Naples. The cruise would go down the Adriatic coast, around the boot of Italy, into Naples. We were not able to see the ship, as Dubrovnik was not a port where it regularly called, except when on a charter basis. After a full day of walking and exploring, we retired to the hotel. Rudy wanted to visit Sveti Stefan the following day as he was considering adding this historic city as a day trip for the group while they were in Dubrovnik.

Sveti Stefan lies south of Dubrovnik, on the central part of Montenegro Adriatic coast line. It is a small island with a 15^th century fortified village named after Saint Stephen. It was built to defend against the Turks and eventually became a haven for pirates. The island coast line is only about 2 miles in length, but is connected by a narrow isthmus to the mainland. Nearby, on the mainland, there were two pink, sandy beaches. It was well worth the drive, and Rudy did include it as a day trip on the A. O. itinerary.

Back at the hotel, I found a note from someone at the casino who wanted to see me. I don't remember his name, but he was the Casino manager. I noted from the On the previous evening I had noticed that the casino was not very busy, and when I made my way to the meeting, there were only a handful of people at the tables. The manager was interested in why we were visiting the hotel, noting that I was with KLM. I told him it was an exploratory trip and that we were looking at the facilities with the possibility of bringing in some charter flights. At that point he wanted to know if I could promote gambling trips from the USA to the hotel and casino. If I could do that, he would pay me a commission of 25% of whatever amount of money the charter members lost. I was a little taken back by the offer, and told him that it was not anything I would be interested in doing, so he upped the offer to 50 %. I guess they were desperate to get players in that casino. I thanked him for his offer, but promoting that kind of business was not in my job description.

On the following day, Rudy and I drove back to Zagreb. We were to take a Yugoslavian Airline flight to Rome. That will be the next chapter of this saga.

 

 

 

 

 

THE BIG SALE #54

I was making good progress on my visits to the Regional Sales offices. As expected, the sales staff was reluctant to approach a potential charter client as they had never had any training in this aspect of air transportation. Thinking back to my years with Eastern Airlines, I recall a time when I was approached by someone who wanted to charter an Eastern aircraft and asked me how much it would cost. When I inquired from the company, I was told that the cost would be much higher than the per seat cost for a normal ticket. Eastern was missing out on a great revenue opportunity; they often had aircraft available that they could have been sold on a charter basis. They just didn't see this as a market. I guess that's just one more reason why they are no longer in business.

K.L.M. saw whole aircraft charters as a new market; I was fortunate to now be in charge of this market in the U.S.A. I started to set up a series of sales meetings and invited the regional offices sales staff to come to New York and participate. I created a "Charter Sales Manual" with the instructions on procedures, copies of typical charter contracts, and C.A.B regulations. I also had the agreement of Tubby Walker to spend an hour at each session to discuss C.A.B. regulations. The most important rule at that time was that all the passengers must have the same affinity, such as all participants actually being employees of a single company or members of the same clubs or organizations. It was not beneath the C.A.B. to send an inspector to the business, club or organization to check on the validity of the membership.

While I was District Manager in Detroit, I had been in contact with Auto Owners Insurance Company. They wanted to have a sales contest among the agents who sold their insurance policies, so they asked me to suggest a program that would involve a flight to Europe and a one week tour. I didn't handle hotels, land arrangements, etc, so I brought in Rudy Postmaa of Emhage Tours. Rudy was a good friend who had handled several other land tours for me; I knew his arrangements were always excellent. Rudy was a graduate from the University of Michigan. His family owned a large travel agency in Amsterdam, so after graduation, Rudy decided to stay in Michigan and open a branch office of Emhage Tours. This tour company still exists today under the name of Image Tours.

Rudy called me in New York and told me that Auto Owners had made a decision on an Itinerary by which we'd fly into Dubrovnik, in Yugoslavia, stay there for two nights, then board a cruise ship and cruise for two nights to Italy; they would then spend a couple of days in Naples, go up the Apian Way to Rome for three nights, and then fly home. This would make a total of 10 nights, including the overnight flight to Dubrovnik. Auto Owners was requesting a total of seven back to back charters. They wanted to charter the new Boeing 747 that carried 200 passengers. With a total of 1,400 passengers, this was the largest charter sale KLM had ever had up to that time. I flew to Amsterdam for consultation with the people in the Charter Department. Looking at the itinerary, there was a question as to whether the 747 could land in Dubrovnik. The single runway was just the minimum required. We brought in KLM's Chief pilot who decided that he wanted a test flight to be sure it was going to be adequate. The test flight was set up for the following day. I was granted permission to go along. We had several other passengers from various departments that went along. When I had been talking with the Chief Pilot I was telling him that I had a private pilot's license and, a one time, had wanted to get a commercial license. However, when I went in for the medical tests, they found that I was "shade blind" and could not get a commercial license. I'm not color blind, as an example, I can't see the difference between dark blue and black. You can imagine how happy I was when the Captain invited me to sit in the jump seat; the jump seat is a small hinged folding seat between the pilot and co-pilot. It was an unexpected privilege that I remember even today.

The test flight was without incident and, although the landing and takeoff used up the entire runway, the chief pilot gave his approval for the charter flights. I took the time to visit Emhage Tours in Amsterdam and met with Rudy's father. He was a retired teacher who used to organize student groups who then travelled throughout Europe. (My daughter Karen had been on one of their European student tours and she had a great time). Upon retirement, he decided to make tourism a business. It really took off and he had over twenty employees, both administrative and tour conductors. Upon return to New York, I spoke to Rudy and gave him the good news. He told me that Auto Owners wanted me to come to Michigan for a meeting.

Rudy and I met with Ralph Moulton, President of Auto Owners, and Max Tanner, their Vice President. I gave them the KLM flight schedule I had worked out. The first charter would be one way to Dubrovnik. This group would then travel via the land and cruise itinerary to Rome. The next charter would be from Rome to Detroit to bring the first group home. This charter from Rome would then pick up group two and take them to Dubrovnik, and so on. In other words the first charter would be one way, as would be the last charter that would bring the final group home. The other charters would be full in both directions. In this way Auto Owners would only have to pay for two empty legs at the empty leg rate. The other five would be at the full charter rate.

Rudy then went over the details of the land arrangements. Ralph Moulton wanted to add a gala dinner in Rome. The C.I.G.A. Excelsior hotel in Rome, where all the groups would be staying, had a special Roman theme dinner where all the participants dressed in robes, etc as they did in early Roman days. The hotel would provide all the material needed for the participants to make a costume. Rudy said that he would set this up. Auto Owners was very concerned that this program goes without any problems. The passengers were going to be the top producers for them and any unwanted problems would reflect on Auto Owners. Both Rudy and I assured them that both of us would check and recheck every detail including a dry-run to be sure everything went smoothly. I told them about the flight I had been on to Dubrovnik to check out flight procedures and airport facilities. They were pleased about that and said that if this proved successful, they would plan for more such programs.

Upon leaving Auto Owners, Rudy suggested that the two of us go over the entire itinerary together. I told him that I would have to clear it with the home office. When I got back to New York I spoke to Fritz Kielman about the importance of the Auto Owners business and that I had the promise of even more business if this program I had set up went off well. I asked him for approval of a pass for Rudy and his permission for me to accompany him. It was no problem, Fritz knew that Rudy was becoming one of KLM's top producing agents and he also wanted to see more traffic from Auto Owners.

In the next blog I will tell you about our trip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A NEW JOB TO LEARN #53

Before I could relocate to New York, I had to prepare the Detroit office for a new District Manager. Everything had to be inventoried; if there were any differences between the inventory that was given me when I took over and what I was passing on to the new manager, it would have to be explained. All moneys and the blank ticket stock on hand had to be accounted for. After all that, the incoming manager then had to sign his acceptance of the office.

I was happy to learn that the new manager was to be Wolter Witholt; Wolter was a Dutch employee who I had met several times; we had even participated together in a sales seminar in Holland. Wolter was being promoted from being a Sales Representative. An interesting fact about him was that he had been a freedom fighter, in Holland, during the war. Often he had to smuggle guns between resistance groups who were fighting the German occupation troops in his country. He was a young boy who would many times ride his bike past the German occupiers with a rifle stuck down his pant leg. I don't know if I would have had the same courage.

When Wolter arrived, we spent a few day together, out in the field, meeting travel agents and commercial accounts. Wolter also needed to find a place to live. I showed him the small home that I had in the suburbs and he agreed to rent it from me when I left. I got a big surprise when the Dutch Immigrant Society said that they wanted to give me a farewell dinner in Grand Rapids. I had become quite close with this organization over the five years I worked with them. At the dinner, John Witte presented me a gold watch, with a suitable inscription on the back. I still own the watch; it no longer runs, but I have kept it anyway.

With all the events in Detroit taken care of, I had to find a place to live in New York. The other two years previously spent there, were on a temporary basis, and KLM had paid my hotel bill. Now, I needed to find an apartment, hopefully near the office. After much searching, I settled on a single bedroom apartment on Park Ave and 34^th Street. It looked out on Park Avenue and was on the 20^th floor. The apartment had a good sized living room, a bedroom and a small but adequate kitchen. Once I brought a few items from Detroit, it was very comfortable. The rent was $210.00 per month, which back in 1971 was expensive; I would bet that today, if you could find it, it would rent for a thousand or more.

With accommodations settled, I was happy to get started in my new position. I took the time to spend several hours meeting with my staff on an individual basis. Fortunately, I had a passing relationship with all of them as I had met them all at one time or another, during the previous two years I was in New York. During the first days, I also visited with Tubby Walker, the Company's attorney who had been a CAB executive prior to joining KLM. I told Tubby that I wanted to work closely with him to be sure we conformed to all the regulations. The last thing I wanted to do was cost KLM their landing rights. I had a good deal of experience working with charters, but the industry was growing and new rules and regulations were being made on a regular basis. Tubby acquainted me with all copies of CAB rulings and changes in their regulations. I found this to be very helpful. Tubby Walker was sure to call me to his office and discuss any new things that he believed I should know. Over time we became good friends, and we often lunched together.

Since Fritz Kielman, KLM's USA head, wanted to expand charter sales, I felt that it was important to visit each office to determine their ability and understanding to go out and sell charters in their districts. From the questions that came from the field, our staff felt that our sales people shied away from selling charters as they sometimes were afraid they didn't have enough knowledge. I could appreciate that, as I recalled the learning curve I had in the beginning. I was also getting calls from District Managers asking me if I could make a joint call on a potential client in their district, who wanted to charter an aircraft. I decided to sit down and make a schedule to visit every office. I asked Margret, my secretary, to call each manager to see when they would be available to sit down with me. I wanted to be sure that they had all their staff available, as its one thing to sell a charter and another important part of it was to provide the entire backup needed by the client.

For the time being, the district meetings would have to wait. I received a call from the Charter Department in Holland asking me to come to Amstelveen, where the head office was located, to discuss charters from the USA. I ended up spending more than a week in Amstelveen. Europe was far ahead of the USA when it came to Charters. Every year, the foreign airlines participated in "Inclusive Tour Charters". The foreign airlines did not have to operate under CAB rules when flying in Europe; they operated under I.A.T.A., which is the International Airlines Transportation Association. When you fly a foreign airline to Europe you are subject to IATA rules, they are quite different regulations for chartering an aircraft in Europe.

The home office of KLM is a very modern four story building. Close by, at Schiphol Airport is the maintenance center. I had an opportunity to tour the center. All employees are dressed in spotless white overalls and the whole facility is so clean you could eat off the floor. There is every conceivable facility for tearing down and rebuilding jet engines, x-raying wings and everything else that a maintenance facility has to do. It is very impressive and makes you feel very safe when you're on a KLM aircraft.

I digressed a bit from the reason I was on this visit, but I would also like to mention my visit to one of the most impressive buildings, which was where the aircraft scheduling was located. When your aircraft are flying over the entire world, you have to know exactly where each aircraft is, when it is due for maintenance, checks etc. You also have to keep track of the crew members and where they are, and how many hours they can fly. This is done inside a large circular building which represents the world wide routes. Every flight was represented showing where it starts and where it stops. It shows the exact routes, the stops it makes, even what connecting KLM flights are out of each city. It's a little like a Chinese jig saw puzzle, but the people working in there knew exactly how it all works. It was a little amazing.

While in Amstelveen I was pleased to meet Ad Asselman, one of the local managers in the Charter Dept. I had met with Ad in Detroit, when I had asked him to come to Detroit and go with me to the D.I.S. to discuss their plans. They wanted to increase the number of charters for their members and I thought it was important to bring in one of the staff from Holland. It was nice to see him again; we spent several days together. Ad was very helpful in introducing me to many of the Dutch charter staff that I would be working with in the future. I was very pleased with all that I learned and the people I met. As I left Holland, I felt that I was going to enjoy my new job. We were entering the jet age and KLM was ordering the new 747 jet aircraft for the long haul routes. The nine hour flight from New York to Amsterdam with a fuel stop in Ireland would be cut to six hours nonstop. The future looked very bright.

BACK TO THE “BIG APPLE” #52

KLM's offer to promote me from District Sales Manager in Detroit, to U.S. Charter Sales Manager in New York, came as a bit of a surprise. It's true that I had done well in Detroit; in 1965 when I arrived in that city, sales were a little less than one million dollars per year. Now, in 1971, our sales were running around eight million per year. When I proposed changing KLM's location from downtown Detroit to the suburbs, the other international airlines in the city told me that my idea was crazy; however, it was less than a year later when they were all trying to leave the downtown area.

On a personal level, my life left a lot to be desired. The family had moved up to Island Lake, near Rose City, in mid Michigan, too far to commute from, so I purchased a small two bedroom home in the Detroit suburbs, and once again, I could only be with the family on weekends. It was like the two years I spent in the home office in New York, when I had to commute by air to Connecticut, on the weekends. From a work perspective, I loved what I was doing. Aviation, tourism and the whole travel industry seemed to be in my blood. I was aware that my line of work was not conducive to a normal family life; and I was pretty lonely at times. I was missing much of my children's growing up. It was really nothing that I had planned. I was just following where life led me. When I met my future wife in Miami, I was working in the airline industry, so this lifestyle wasn't something I started after we were married. Perhaps it had something to do with my early childhood? I can't remember what might be described as a "normal" upbringing. Some people are born and raised in the same home all their life, go to school and get a job in the same location. I knew people in New Jersey, who had never visited New York City. I had a friend in Providence, Rhode Island, who had never travelled outside of Providence and was perfectly happy to live life in one spot.

If you have been following my blogs, you'll remember I was raised by my mother during the depression years; we had moved several times, then off to boarding school, off to join the Canadian Army, plus my teen years spent in Alberta, and so forth. About the closest thing to a family life was when I lived on the Buckwell ranch, in Macleod. If you read my Mother's story about her life and her service in the RCAF during the war, you will notice her love of travel, too. I'm sure my love of flying came from my Uncle Albert, who was a "bush pilot" in Northern Canada and Alaska. In any event, my life was what it was, and I can't go back and change it. Nor would I want to.

Getting back to the new job offer, I talked to Helen about the offer and, as I suspected, she was not a happy camper. She was enjoying her life at the lake and thought that at some point I would retire to the lake house. She had no desire to move to New York. I had an appointment with Fritz Kielman, Vice President and General Manager of KLM in the USA. I told Helen that I was going into New York the following week to discuss the new position, and that we should wait until I had all the facts.

On the following week I met with Fritz Kielman in New York. Kielman explained to me that as U.S. Charter manager I would be responsible for the operations of all charter flights originated from U.S. cities. This also included all the paper work and filings with the Civil Aviation Board for any flights originating outside of KLM's certificated cities; I would also have to make sure all charter flights conformed to C.A.B. regulations, plus work closely with the Holland aircraft scheduling department. Another responsibility was to oversee the issuing of contracts for signature of the entity wishing to charter the aircraft, and verifying that they conformed to the C.A.B. charter rules and regulations. I would have a staff that would handle all the paperwork, help with the cost and collection of charter prices, and handle any other regulations. My office and staff would be located at 609, 5^th Ave, in New York. The Charter Department already had a staff of eight employees. I would be replacing the charter manager, who had been recalled to Holland. Kielman said that he was offering me this position due to the extensive experience I had in handling the numerous charter flights from Detroit. He particularly wanted me to expand charter sales from the U.S.A. by using my experience to train all the sales people in the U S. stations on how to sell charters; it was of the utmost importance that they understood all the rules and regulations of the C.A.B. in this regard.

I would work closely with the legal department, headed by Tubby Walker, who had a great reputation in the airline industry as he had been a former C.A.B. officer. It was very important for a foreign air carrier like KLM to adhere to USA air regulations as established by the Civil Aviation Board. If these regulations were broken or circumvented, the air carrier would be subjected to fines and even, possibly, the loss of USA landing rights.

The salary turned out to be a substantial increase over what I had been making as a District Sales Manager. Since I would be doing a great deal of travel between the U.S.A. and Holland, I requested to be classified as an "A" employee so that all my company travel would be First Class. I am 6'3 and I was not going to spend endless hours flying over the North Atlantic in the smaller seats of economy class. Kielman said that "A" class was only for Dutch employees; however, he would give me a First Class classification that would permit me to fly first class. This would carry over to all flights including any carriers. The Interline Department would be advised that any of my flight passes on KLM or other airlines would be as a KLM executive entitled to fly First Class. I also requested a resettlement amount to cover my transfer expense. I got everything I asked for, now I had to learn what the family was going to say?

Back at Rose City, I told Helen and the family that I wanted this promotion and that traveling to Rose City from New York every weekend, instead of from Detroit, would make very little difference. With the annual passes I would have on domestic airlines I could fly to Tri-Cities, in Michigan, and then drive for about 45 minutes to Rose City. I had requested that I keep my company car from Detroit, and that had been approved; I could keep it parked at the Tri Cities Airport. To make a long story short, after long conversations, I accepted the promotion.

Now, my goal was to make the new position as successful as possible.

The years slip by #51

1967 had been a good year for KLM, in Michigan. Revenue was at an all time high; we had a new office, and added an additional salesman. It also had some bitter memories: the murder of Dick Robinson and his family and the suicide of Joe Scolara. How fragile and uncertain life can be.

During the next few years KLM continued to do well. Our office grew to a total of nine people; we had an amazing number of charter flights for the Dutch Immigrant Society, Chrysler Corp, and numerous other organizations. I made three more trips to Europe and a couple of trips to Curacao and Aruba in connection with Chandris Cruise Lines who were working with KLM on Caribbean cruises out of Curacao. Actually, that was the birth of the cruise industry as we know it today. Aside from the transatlantic ships from New York to Europe, there were no cruises like we know them now.

Chandris came to KLM with the idea to station a ship in Curacao. KLM who flew scheduled flights to Curacao could offer a package tour that would combine round trip air via KLM and a six night cruise on Chandris. I don't recall the name of the ship, but it carried several hundred passengers. Later on, they added a second ship that had been the private yacht of the Aga Kahn. It could carry about 40 people. I thought it would be great if Chandris, as part of its marketing plan, would give me about ten cabins and I would offer the District Sales Managers of our domestic airlines in Detroit a complimentary cruise for them and their wives. KLM would grant them passes to Curacao, and Chandris would offer the cruise. Chandris jumped at the idea and gave me ten complimentary double cabins, not on their larger ship but on the small, former private yacht.

I wish I had seen the Aga Kahn's yacht before I offered a cruise to my domestic airline friends. When we got to Curacao and boarded the ship we found the cabins very small, with upper and lower births. So small, that one person had to step outside the cabin while the other got dressed. The toilets and showers were very tiny. The dining room and small casino along with an equally small library took up the rest of the ship. Chandris had done a good job of refurbishing, but it was more suited for Greek Island cruising for students rather than the American market.

We cruised several islands and regardless of the ship's size, everyone was having a great time. We were enroute to Caracas which was the last stop before returning to Curacao, when the ship encountered engine problems and we lost the air conditioning. Then, on top of that the toilets started to back up and the odor was not pleasant. We limped into Caracas about 8 hours late and the Captain informed us that the ship would have to stay in Caracas for repairs. Chandris provided hotel rooms and our KLM office in Curacao made arrangements with Venezuelan Airlines to provide Complimentary tickets back to Curacao.

Helen, who had worked in the U.S. Embassy in Caracas, took us on a short walking tour of the city. None of us enjoyed seeing armed military men on almost every corner. Helen said that this was very common in Caracas as they were there to stop any uprising against the government; I guess that's Parr for foreign dictatorships?

The old yacht was taken out of service and not used again. Incidentally, Chandris still exists today; it is a much larger cruise line that now sails under the name of "Celebrity Cruises" you may have seen their ships with the large X on the funnel. They have eight luxury ships; the largest are the Eclipse, the Equinox and the Solstice which carries over 3,000 passengers, a far cry from the Aga Kahn's old yacht.

On a more personal basis, Helen accompanied one of my European groups through Europe, Karen went on a student tour in Europe and Kathy started Michigan State College. Helen decided that she wanted to move to a more "country like" setting, away from Detroit. Because we had a log cabin on Island Lake, just outside Rose City, she thought that we should build a year round home up there. It was too far for me to commute, so I bought a small house in Detroit and commuted up to the lake on Friday night, and back to Detroit on Sunday night. Not much of a family life, but it was good for the children.

Building the home on Island Lake was not the easy job it should have been. We had a local contractor who lived at the lake. He was a disaster. Living in St. Clair Shores and building a home 200 miles away left our contractor on his own, and he took advantage of it. Delay after delay blamed on rain or some other excuse. Finally, I drove up to the lake and confronted the contractor. When we met in his small office I accused him of lying about weather delays and said that I wanted to know what was going on. In an unbelievable move, he opened his desk drawer and put a revolver on his desk. I asked him what he expected to do with a gun, and he said he did not intend to let me assault him.

The man was crazy; yes, I was angry, but in no way did I threaten him. I told him that the house had to be finished in 30 days or I would sue him. He had been paid in full and I expected him to complete the house. He did complete it and then declared bankruptcy. He had large unpaid bills for supplies at the local lumber company and they took him to court. I was called to testify that I had paid him for the lumber. He was found guilty of misappropriating funds and was sentenced to a prison term. In spite of all the problems, it was a very nice house.

It was not long after that, when I was summoned to New York by KLM and offered the position of Charter Sales Manager for North America. It would require a move to the New York office, and of course I would have to go through additional training in Amsterdam where the world wide aircraft scheduling was all done. I told them I was flattered by their offer but I would need a few days to consider the offer. Changes, Changes… It would be a big promotion.

 

BACK IN THE GOOD OLD U.S.A. #50

I would like to add a few last words on the Impresario Performing Arts Tour, as mentioned in the last blog.

Travel is a dream that I have always had. Ever since I was a very little boy, I always wanted to see what was down the street, across town, or around the world. I never expected to have the opportunity to fulfill those dreams. Circumstances presented themselves, allowing many of those dreams to come true.

Although I expressed disappointment about the Impresario tour, it was with the participants, not the journey. Russia, in the late sixties could be pretty dismal, compared to America or any other place outside the "Iron Curtain". In many ways, however, it was a fascinating country. Children would come up to you and ask for chewing gum, but if you tried to shake hands with them, they would slap your hand away. I guess they had been pretty well brainwashed about the American capitalist enemy. Lenin Square in Moscow is immense. Russian visitors stood in line for hours to go through Lenin's Mausoleum. Our Russian Intourist guide took us to the front of the line and yelled at the others in line to let us in. We got a lot of dirty looks, but they let us in. Inside the immense rotunda was the body of Lenin, propped up in his coffin looking like a wax body. You could only spend about one minute for the viewing. No cameras were allowed; you were relieved of cameras as you entered, and were returned when you came out. At the far end of the square was the St.Basil church, with its impressive onion shaped domes; to the right was the entrance to the Kremlin, surrounded by its massif walls. We toured the Kremlin and were fascinated by the architecture. Looking at Russian history under the Tsars, you have to marvel at the fact that, although the Tsars' were disposed of, the Russian people kept what they had built. Another example of this the Winter Palace, in Leningrad, with its beautiful fountains, gardens, and canals, built by Tsar Nicolas the Great. The paintings in the Palace came from all over Europe, especially from Holland, where Nicolas lived and studied for some time.

I just thought that I would add the above, as I didn't want to leave the reader with the impression that the Impresario tour was terrible. It was far from that; the many performances we attended were beautiful and the cities we visited were full of old world art, architecture and for the most part, friendly people. I just wish our tour members could have been nicer.

Upon my return to work, I still had to find a new location for our office. I had also promised to have lunch with Joe Scolara, Dick Robinson's assistant. I was hoping that Dick's murder had been solved. Joe's admission to me that he was the chief suspect was certainly unsettling. I gave Joe a call and he asked me to meet him at the old Impresario office. The offices were in a one story building in Southfield, Michigan. Arriving at the office, I was greeted by Joe Scolara. He then went over the Robinson family demise and said the police had no leads, and were still interrogating him as the chief suspect. He thought the reason for this was because he had no alibi for the time when the murders occurred. He had been attending the Michigan Fair all that day but couldn't recall anyone he knew, who could say they saw him there. Additionally, he served as a Special Forces member during WWll and therefore had a great deal of experience with weapons. He swore up and down that he had nothing to do with the murders.

He told me that the reason he wanted to see me at their old offices, was because he owned the building and wondered if I would like to rent it for KLM. He knew that I wanted to get out of Detroit. To make a long story short, I sent the details and a picture of the building to my New York Home Office and got a "go ahead" to rent it. It was well suited to our needs. It was a small building containing three private offices, a reception area and a large conference room which we converted into a reservations and ticket office open to the public. In the back of the building was ample space for parking. The nicest part was that it fronted on Southfield Road which was a main road out of Detroit, to the suburbs. We had a nice sign out front proclaiming "The K.L.M. Building".

After moving in, Joe Scolara stopped by several times to visit. On one visit, he suggested that we have lunch together at that great Dutch restaurant in Windsor. On the way back, he surprised me by saying he hoped U.S. Immigration didn't ask him to open his trunk (we were using his car) as he had a rifle in the trunk. I don't know if he was joking or serious. In any event, we were not asked to open it. That was the last time I ever saw Joe. He had a small office in downtown Detroit, where he was working and his mother was helping him. One day, she went out for lunch, and when she returned, the door was locked and there was a note on the door telling her not to come in, but to call the police. When the police arrived, they broke down the door and found that Joe had committed suicide. He left a note saying that he was a thief and had stolen money from Dick Robinson, but he was not a murderer. To my knowledge, the police never solved the case. I imagine that not having any more leads, they just closed the case hoping the murderer was dead.

For me, I was happy the year was pretty well over. I got us out of Detroit even though it took me more than twice as long to get to the office every day. I had increased the KLM revenue for the year by over another million dollars. The sad part of the year was the losing of a friend, making the year less happy as it could have been. Overall, I felt good, but could not help wonder what the next year would bring.

 

 

 

 

THE IRON CURTAIN # 49

The lasts few weeks in September 1967 remain in my mind, even after all these years. With meetings in Chicago, corporate visitors from Holland in town, the murder of the Robinson family, and Luke Asjes departure for Amsterdam, pretty well had my mind in a whirl.

One humorous incident among all the problems also comes to mind. It has to do with my visitors from Holland. After all their meetings with the Dutch Immigrant Society to learn the way we handled all their charter flights, I thought that it would be nice to offer them a nice lunch before they had to board their flight back to Amsterdam. There was a wonderful Dutch restaurant in Windsor, Canada. It was just across the border in Ontario and many people from Detroit had lunch there quite often. It served some wonderful Indonesian food, and it was only about a ten minute trip, through the tunnel into Canada. There were few formalities at the border; the Canadians had no check point as you passed in, however, U.S. Immigration Police stopped all cars and checked all drivers on their way back into the States.

I must have been in La la land because I completely forgot that I had taken Dutch Citizens across into Canada. We were about halfway through our lunch when it dawned on me that we had to go through American Immigration to get back into Detroit. I don't know what kind of trouble I was going to get my guests in, but they had to catch a flight that afternoon and we didn't have time to be delayed. Having gone through this process many times, I knew that the U.S. Immigration officer usually just stuck his head in the window and asked "if I was a U.S. citizens. I'd say yes, and he would wave me through. I explained to my Dutch friends about my problem and asked them to just say "yes" when asked if everyone was a U.S. citizen. We got to the border, we were asked the question and I said yes. Then, from the back seat, came a very loud and definitely Dutch "Yah". I held my breath, but luckily he waived us through. I don't think it's that easy today; Homeland Security would have us all in jail.

So now it was September 28^th and I was standing at the American Airlines gate at Idlewild Airport, awaiting the arrival of my 36 passengers booked on the Impresario Performing Arts Tour. We were all booked on KLM's evening flight to Amsterdam, where we spent two nights exploring the sights, sailing on the famous canals, and visiting the Rijks Museum. A concert by the Amsterdam Philharmonic and a visit to Volendam were other highlights of our stay. From Amsterdam we flew to Warsaw, for more tours and a concert. Then it was on to Moscow. I had been in Moscow in 1961, with a group of KLM managers on a familiarization tour of Eastern Europe. I really hadn't had any great knowledge of Eastern Europe, just a taste of it. From that experience, I knew that in those times, people in Eastern Europe didn't have a lot of wealth. I had explained that to the participants during our meetings back in Detroit. I told them to leave any fancy clothes and fur coats at home. Unfortunately, my advice didn't sink in. They all came dressed in fancy furs and jewels as if they were going to attend the grand opening performance at the Met. Our Intourist host or guide was a wonderful Russian lady who spoke perfect English and didn't leave our side for the three days we were in Moscow. We attended several concerts and a performance at the famous Bolshoi Theatre. The immense red velvet curtain, emblazoned with the Hammer and Sickle symbol, was pretty impressive. The performance was a ballet, and arrangements had been made to have a special luncheon with the performers the next day. The next morning was free and I told the group I would have a bus waiting for them at eleven A.M. outside the hotel to take them to the luncheon.

At 11:A.M no one was there. I started to call their rooms, when a couple of them showed up. They said the others were still getting ready. By 11:30 I was going crazy, The Intourist guide said that we had to go. I said that we couldn't go as only half the people were on the bus. Then the ones on the bus started to complain and said lets go leave them behind. By the time we all got to the hall where we were to have lunch, the Russian performers were leaving. I pleaded with them to stay, but all they said was in Russian and it didn't sound too complimentary. The Intourist guide was very apologetic to our people who really didn't deserve an apology. The luncheon had been set up beautifully with crystal glasses, flowers and more; it looked like something out of a movie set. The tour members couldn't understand why the performers left. I didn't want to say it was because they thought we were a bunch of ugly Americans, but that's what it was. The cold war was still on at that time.

The rest of the tour was not much better; it was like herding a bunch of sheep. I had one woman who was always lost. If I told everyone that the bus was outside to the left, she would go to the right. I would count heads on the bus and she was always missing. I would find her wandering around looking for the bus. This happened time and time again. There was another woman who wanted to have the window open in her room, at night. Because all rooms were double occupancy, it ended up that I had to switch her around with others until I found another lady who didn't mind the open window. So it went through Leningrad, Budapest, Prague and finally our farewell dinner in back in Amsterdam. One thing I forgot: when we left Russia, their Immigration Control officers searched my entire group. One lady had some Russian rubles; the officer said it was against the law to take Russian money out of Russia. When she said it was just a souvenir, the officer suggested she spend it in the gift shop. The women threw the rubles on the floor and said she didn't want any dirty Russian money. They all laughed at her. Another lady had a Rosary in her purse and a letter from her son, who was a priest. They took both items, several officers took the items into a back room, and it was about thirty minutes before they returned the items. I don't know why, but they didn't ask me to open my suitcase.

I have escorted a number of groups through Europe, Eastern Europe, and Africa, but I am happy to tell you that I have never had to endure such a group again.

MORE TRAVEL, PART THREE #48

The staff was very happy about our move out of the city. The city of Detroit was experiencing the same thing many other cities were: the move to the suburbs. Detroit was the automobile manufacturing capital of the world; however the higher echelon of workers started to move into the suburbs, which were expanding further and further outside the city. This left the lower echelon workers and a large influx of people, mostly from the south, to take up the space of those who fled to suburbia. The assembly line of auto manufacturing needed workers who could handle single tasks on the line. The unions were very strong, wages were high, and benefits assured workers of uncommon security. This attracted a great number of black workers from southern states with limited education, who naturally wanted to share in the American dream. In no time at all, Detroit became a mostly black city. Nearby cities such as Dearborn had curfews; all black people could not be in that city after dark. Thank God those days are mostly behind us, but, in the 60's, this was one of the reasons behind the race riots.

Now I had to find a place for our KLM office. You will recall that I was working with Dick Robinson, owner and publisher of Impresario Magazine, on a performing arts tour of Eastern Europe. We had over 30 people signed up; Dick and his wife were going to travel with the group as tour conductors. Dick was a handsome man in his forties and his wife a very attractive lady who shared Dick's love and appreciation for the performing arts. They had three great teenagers, two boys and a girl. Back in those days, airlines were not permitted to give free transportation in exchange for business. A few of the international airlines got around that ruling by offering employment to the person who was responsible for generating passengers. This was carefully implemented as no one wanted it to get out of hand. I was able to hire Dick's wife as a "part time" sales Representative. As an employee, she and her husband were able to give obtain free passes to accompany their group. The tour cost per person was over $4,000. There were only three couples signed up, the rest were mostly wealthy women, either widows or wives of Auto executives, except for one lady who had saved her salary as a housekeeper all her life; and loved the performing arts. You'll learn more about the participants as we go along.

It was early September when I got the news that Luke Asjes was returning to Amsterdam to become a KLM V.P. in Amstelveen, our home office location, not far from Schiphol Airport. Schiphol was the location of a very large KLM airfreight terminal where all incoming airfreight was sorted and redirected to its final destination. KLM's maintenance base was also there, and it was state of the art. You could eat off the floor, it was so clean. Engine technicians wore white uniforms and all our mechanics were trained at Pratt and Whitney Aircraft, in East Hartford, Connecticut. I was going to miss Luke Asjes. He was a tough, but very fair individual. Luke Asjes, Roger Ackley and Luke's replacement, Arne Duyf, came to Detroit and we had lunch together at the Press Club. Duyf was a very likeable man who had been in sales for KLM for a number of years. He was following the path of other Dutch employees, destined for a higher position in the future. The USA was a very important destination for the company. Besides New York, Miami, Houston and Los Angeles, KLM had in mind other cities which they would like to serve.

It was just about the middle of the month when Dick Robinson told me that he was taking his family to upper Michigan for a short vacation. He expected to be back in about a week or so. His Impresario Magazine organized tour was due to leave on the 29^th. It was a pretty busy time for me. It seemed that I had a lot going on. I was working with Chrysler on a large group; there were a number of DIS charters to handle at the airport. I had fired one of my Sales Reps and was trying to interview a replacement. I also had some people from the head office who were interested in how we handled the Dutch Immigrant Soc. Charters and wanted to see how we did it; they wanted to meet with John Witte, of the D.I.S. In any event, time was flying and I needed to talk with Dick Robinson about his tour. We usually had lunch together every couple of weeks, but I had been so busy we hadn't spoken all month. I called his office and talked with Joe Scolara, his office manager and assistant. He told me that Dick had not returned from Northern Michigan, yet. I asked if he had a telephone number for Dick; he said that their cabin didn't have a telephone, but not to worry as Dick often stayed out of communication with him. He was sure Dick would show up soon.

It was just a few days later when some hikers were passing Dicks Cabin up north; they knocked on the door, but no one answered. They noticed an open window and looked inside; they could see people laying on the floor and a very bad odor coming from inside. They ran to find a phone and notify the police. Joe Scolara called and told me that Dick, his wife, and three children had all been murdered, shot to death in their cabin. I was shocked and bewildered over the tragedy. Why would anyone kill an entire family, just like that? Over the next few days the Detroit papers were full of speculation: had it been a mob killing? Apparently there were some questions about Dick's background, but nothing came of that. Then I had to go to Chicago for a series of meetings and I had to figure out what I was going to do about Dick's tour. I talked it over with Roger Ackley and Arne Duyf; their answer was that, since I had helped organizing the tour and knew all the participants, I should escort it. Now, who wouldn't give up their eye teeth to take a trip like that? Not me. I didn't want to do it, however there was just no one else that made any sense. I sent in my passport to New York and the staff obtained all the visas I would need. I arranged with my secretary to contact all the tour participants and tell them that I would be escorting them; she should arrange for one of our sales reps to be at the Detroit airport to see the group off, and I would join them when they arrived at Kennedy Airport. The reason for this was that I was already going to be in New York attending the farewell party for Luke Asjes. On top of this, I had a telephone call from Joe Scolara; he told me that he was the chief suspect in the murder of Dick, but he swore that he had not done it. Joe wanted to have lunch with me but, there was no time before I had to leave for New York. We agreed that we would have lunch together when I returned.

So far, 1967 had been quite a year, and I still had to find a new location outside of Detroit for our office. It was also of concern to me that this tour was going to take me away from my family again. Also, I didn't know what I would find out from Joe Scolara upon my return.

LOTS OF TRAVEL PART TWO #47

It certainly was fortunate that fellow Rotarian, Dr. Whitley decided to travel with us on our little adventure to France and North Africa. I don't know what I would have done without him; probably end up in a hospital in Lisbon. As happened, I ended up in the St. Claire Shores hospital for almost a week. But, now I was back to work and lots to do.

On June 17^th, we set a record with the Dutch Immigrant Soc. We had two inbound and two outbound charters for them. Almost 800 DIS members, 400 coming back from Amsterdam and 400 departing, fortunately I was able to get some New York airport staff to come to Detroit to help out.

When I came to Detroit I made the acquaintance of Rudi Postmaa. Rudi had attended University in Michigan and upon graduation had opened a travel agency in Grand Rapids. His father, who had been a teacher in Holland, owned a travel agency that specialized in student travel. Since I had been so involved with the University of Hartford in setting up Spanish language courses in Barcelona Spain, and Smith College with their travel to Ethiopia, I found that we had a great deal in common. I could handle the transportation side of travel and I needed someone I could work closely with on arranging the land portion such as hotels, transfers, sightseeing, etc. Our working relationship and friendship made a good team. I could make a contact such as I did with Chrysler Corp. management club. I convinced them that a group flight for their Management club members would be a fun thing to do during Chryslers two week vacations close down. I then brought in Rudi to handle the land arrangements. The result was I had 45 people flying to Europe on KLM.

Rudi Postmaa handled the land arrangements for my Eastern European group with Impresario Magazine. This was a performing Arts Tour that I have mentioned previously. It was not an easy program to set up as it entailed performance tickets to the Bolshoi, in Moscow, The St. Petersburg Ballet School in (Stalingrad in those days) St. Petersburg, as well as performances in other Eastern Europe cities. In Moscow we were able to get a special dinner set up with a number of Bolshoi Ballet performers. This relationship with Rudi resulted in KLM getting business from him. As a good Dutchman, Rudi would always put his personal groups that he had sold, through my office and on KLM. It was one hand washes the other, except we had also developed a personal friendship. I would often visit his father when I was in Amsterdam.

One very great surprise happened on July 23^rd. when a police raid on an unlicensed liquor bar called "a blind pig" resulted in the infamous race riots of 1967. It was hard to believe the chaos that ensued. Rioters broke into stores and made off with furniture, clothing, and food and just about anything they could lay their hand on. What made it worse was that the mayor told the police not to fire and to stay back. He believed that it would not grow as it did. At one point, the rioters were sniping at cars on the expressway. Since the KLM office was in the middle of downtown Detroit, on Monday the 24^th, I decided to drive down to my office to see if we had any damage. I was under the impression that the riot was pretty well over. I was sitting in my office looking out at all the damage when an army tank came around the corner. Crouching behind the tank were several National Guard troops with rifles at the ready. It didn't take long for me to get to my car and get out of there. Here are a few pictures that may give you an idea of the devastation.

 

 

It was Wednesday the 26^th before we could reopen the office and it took weeks for the city to clean up everything and get back to normal.

The riot pretty well made up my mind for me. I had been toying with the idea of moving our office out of Detroit into one of the suburbs. The girls of our staff did not feel safe in downtown. We would often encounter derilicks sleeping in the lobby of our building and others hanging around pan handling. The Gateway Center building was in the center of downtown. Eastern Air lines also had an office on the same floor as us. British Airways was across the street and several other airlines were in nearby buildings. I had broached the subject at one of our Detroit Air Line Managers meeting and found that most wanted to stay where they were. There seemed to be some unwritten law that mandated all air lines be in the same area. In any event, I called Roger Ackley in Chicago and aprised him of my desire to move our office and asked him to set up a meeting with Luke Asjes in New York for the three of us to discuss my proposal. I had already filled in Roger and had no objection from him. When we met with Asjes, he listened to my reasons for wanting the move and told me to go ahead and get several proposals as to where I would relocate. He agreed with me that our location was not acceptable. All I had to do now was find the new location.

Unknown to me at the time, fate was to play a roll in our relocation.

 

LOTS OF TRAVEL, NOT ALL OF IT EXPECTED, PART ONE #46

You will remember my joining the St. Clair Shores Rotary Club. I don't recall how many Rotary Clubs there are in Michigan, but I think I visited every one of them. Rotarians enjoy visiting each other's clubs. When traveling in the USA or abroad, Rotarians try to visit the closest club to where they are staying. Each club has a small silk flag showing its name and all try to create logos and images to represent their town. The Marathon Rotary Club's flag, for instance, is blue with gold edging, giving their club's name and a picture of a sailfish, representing the great fishing in the area of Marathon, in the Florida Keys. All members who travel have a supply of flags and when visiting another club, they exchange flags. The visiting Rotarian is always recognized and introduced by the local president, who presents him the local flag and is given a flag from the visitor's club, in return. When Rotarians return home, they will present the newest flag to the Home Club members, who will then mount it on a large banner that is displayed at the weekly meetings. When visiting a club it is impressive to see all the flags from all over the world displayed. This is particularly noticeable in large cities like Miami, New York, Amsterdam, or London.

I had decided that I wanted to go to the Rotary International Convention in Nice, France. So on May 16, 1967 Helen and I, along with a fellow Rotarian Dr. Whitley and his wife, flew from Detroit to New York, Amsterdam and on to Paris, where we spent four days. Then, on the 20^th, we flew from Paris to Nice. The convention was a great experience; we met Rotarians from all over the world. The International President gave a stirring report on Polio Plus, Rotary's project to eradicate polio from the world. There were a number of seminars about Rotary that you could attend, and many of the Rotary Clubs presented projects that they were undertaking. I remember one African club that was involved in drilling wells and providing hand pumps to obtain clean drinking water. Another club was providing medical care to infants in a South American country. We attended several special luncheons and dinners with outstanding Rotarian speakers talking about the goals of Rotary in the world. During these luncheons, clubs from around the world were recognized for their accomplishments.

Leaving Nice, France on May 23^rd, the four of us flew to Casablanca, in Morocco. I had always wanted to see that part of the world after seeing the Bogart movie of the same name. Casablanca was very interesting, especially the colorfully dressed water sellers dispensing a cup of water from a goatskin bag. Walking down the narrow winding alleys of Kasbah, we saw interesting street merchants, selling just about everything.

After three days in Casablanca, we decided to rent a car and drive south to Marrakesh, gateway to the Western Sahara Desert. If Casablanca was colorful, Marrakesh was even more so. We stayed in the old historic Mamounia Hotel; rooms had beautiful balconies overlooking spectacular gardens and pools. Winston Churchill called the Mamounia Hotel his favorite hotel where he could get away from it all. He would spend hours in the gardens, with his easel, painting the beautiful flowers. Over the walls of the garden, you could see camel caravans heading for the Sahara. We always enjoyed having breakfast on our balcony and sharing it with the multi colored small birds that perched on the balcony awaiting your departure, so that they could pick up any stray crumbs.

The square in Marrakesh was like a circus: snake charmers handled poisonous Cobras and other nasty reptiles. I was brave enough to have a deadly snake placed around my neck. I have often wondered if the Arab had the poison removed, or did I risk my life? I am sure it was the former? Or was it? Anyhow, I'm still alive. The local dentist in his Arab robes sat upon a carpet; all around him were various teeth that he had extracted. Another Arab was the writer of letters. For a small fee you could dictate a letter to be mailed to some distant relative. Over on the other side of the square was a story teller, and dozens of white robed men and some veiled women listened intently to the story he was telling. There to the side was the fortune teller, who, for a coin or two, would tell your fortune in the sand. We stayed two days in Marrakesh. Our dinner on the last night was at the Mamounia; sitting cross-legged on a low stool and carpet, we ate chicken from a common bowl and drank mint tea. All this was very exotic, but somewhat uncomfortable, for four American tourists.

Returning to Casablanca, all of agreed that our short stay in Morocco would be long remembered as a truly interesting experience. Little did I know that, years later, I would make the same trip again? For now we were off to Las Palmas for a couple of days, then on to Lisbon for an overnight, then on to New York, and home. However, I had a rather unpleasant experience to go through. On arrival in Lisbon, Portugal, we checked into the famous Ritz Hotel. I had a history of kidney stones which are extremely painful and had been hospitalized several times for their removal. Just about the time we got to our room at the Ritz, I doubled over in pain. Helen called Dr. Whitley whose room was just down the hall, and he came running. Fortunately, he had some very strong pain pills which he administered and suggested that I take a very hot bath, with the hopes that it would pass through my system. The three of them went out to dinner and I headed to my hot bath. The next morning I seemed fine, and we went to the airport for our flight to New York, on Iberian Airlines. The flight had barely taken off when that excruciating pain returned. The stewardess was about to tell the Captain to turn back, when Helen asked her to page Dr. Whitley, who was sitting further back in the rear. He had thoughtfully put a few pain pills in his pocket that morning, which he quickly administered. He fed me the pills several times during the flight and I guess I was pretty well out of it until we arrived at the Detroit airport. I was so bad that I could hardly stand up. Dr. Whitley called an ambulance and I was taken to the St.Clair Shores hospital where they removed the stone the following day. Is there a moral to this story? The only one I could think of was, don't leave home without your Doctor. When I got out of the hospital I asked Dr. Whitley to write me a prescription for those pills, and I never travelled out of the country without them.

Well, 1967 is still not over and this blog is getting too long, I'll just have to tell you about the Detroit riots and another unexpected European trip, 1967 sure was full of surprises.

 

 

 

 

 

1967 – A YEAR OF SURPRISES #45

I enjoyed the three weeks at school in England and was very happy to have made new friends from all over the world. But now, it was time to get back to work in Detroit. Looking back through some of my old agendas, which I still have, 1967 had a lot of interesting events to tell you about.

As mentioned previously, Bill VonWeiler got me interested in Rotary, a businessmen's worldwide organization, and invited me to join. You can't just join Rotary; you must be invited by a member. Membership is limited to one member per job classification in each club. Rotary's main goal is to eradicate polio throughout the world; this has been largely accomplished, by raising millions of dollars to fund inoculations of children in mosquito infested areas worldwide. On the local level, Rotary clubs, often provides college scholarships to high school students and participate in various community needs, besides supporting Rotary International's goals. I have always been proud to be a member of Rotary. In May of 1967, Rotary's International Convention was going to be held in Nice, France and I was planning to attend.

Also in 1967, I met Dick Robison, editor and publisher of Impresario Magazine, and his assistant Joe Scolara. Impresario was dedicated to the Arts and covered all the concerts, ballet, etc., in the Detroit and suburban area; it was heavily supported by the auto industry. I wanted Impresario to sponsor a "Performing Arts Tour of Europe". It would include Amsterdam, Moscow, Leningrad, Budapest, Prague and Rome, for a total of 14 days. I agreed to support the tour by providing several evenings of films of the areas we would visit, for those interested in going on the tour; more about this later.

This is also the year when I got very involved in Holy Land Travel, or, "Walking in the Footsteps of the Lord". The salesmen and myself set a goal of getting at least three different ministers to organize and lead tours to the Holy Land. Michigan had a number of evangelical ministers. When they learned that they could get a free trip, plus money, for leading a group of at least 15 parishioners, we signed up four who wanted to do it. I never thought of religion as a business but, Boy, those ministers sure did. KLM had a fly now, pay later plan and many of the people wanting to go with their minister took advantage of it. Since I was responsible for submitting their applications, one particular mother and two children submitted an application that no one would ever approve. The Minister, who happened to be an American Indian and had a large following, begged me to approve it. When I said I couldn't, because the family would have no money left to eat or pay rent, etc., he said: "These people are highly religious and would go hungry just to walk in the footsteps of the Lord". When I asked him if he would be willing to co-sign and be responsible, the subject sure changed. All the tours did go; I don't recall the numbers, but I was surprised how many people signed up and travelled with their minister.

Roger Ackley decided to have another regional meeting. This was to be held at Land O'Lakes, Wisconsin, from November 12 to 16. The whole Regional Sales Group of about twenty people was going to attend. It was a great meeting, but the highlight which everyone will remember was about Roger, who, on one evening, took a late night swim in the indoor heated pool. After getting out of the pool he decided to go out the exit door to roll in the snow. (Snow had come early that year.) He was stone sober, and as he told us later: Heck, if the Scandinavians do this, I'm going to try it, too". He did not realize that the door from the pool area cannot be opened from the outside. He must have been about half an hour out in the snow, before he could find his way back inside. I think most of us were already in bed, but when we found out about it in the morning, he sure got a ribbing. Roger was a very good sport and all of us liked him immensely.

Back in Detroit, the Dutch Immigrant Society charters were going so well that we were going to schedule six 747 charters for 1968. The charters were a lot to handle as I made it a point to be on hand for all the departures and arrivals. Don Barrow, one of my sales reps always gave me a hand. With over 200 people departing and arriving each time, there was always some problem to be solved. We had the use of a ticket counter from Eastern, however, baggage had to be checked in, tickets picked up, and much more. John Witte and others from the DIS would ride down by bus from Grand Rapids to Detroit, and they were also a big help. After the first charter of the year to Amsterdam, we operated them on a back to back basis; when that first charter returned a few weeks later, bringing back the passengers, we would have it scheduled to pick up passengers in Detroit and take them to Amsterdam. In that way each aircraft would be full both ways; no empty legs to run up the cost. All the charters left Detroit in the evening for an arrival in Amsterdam in the morning. Coming back, they would leave in the morning, arriving back in Detroit in late afternoon.

Things were going so well for my district; little did I anticipate the problems that were about to take place with the Impresario Magazine tour. You'll learn about that next, along with the Rotary tour to Nice, France. And, of course, the race riots in Detroit, July 23^rd of '67.