The Double-Decked "Strato" Clipper

Re-live the luxury of the golden age of air travel in this 1950 film about Pan American Airways' new Boeing 377 Stratocruiser. In particular, take note of the three-course meals and roomy sleeping births from the 19:00 mark on.

The Wonderful Jet World of Pan American (1959)

A look back to the time when jet airliners were brand-new wonders - and served real meals:

The Train-Plane-Trail

A little lesson in forgotten history:  85 years ago this summer, the fastest way to get from one side of the country to the other was by way of a startling innovation:  a transcontinental route that wedded trains with planes to deliver you from New York to Los Angeles in only 48 hours!  Which was a whole day and a half quicker than the fastest train connections at that time.

The 27-year-old Charles Lindbergh, still idolized by the public for his solo transatlantic flight just two years previously, was one of the organizers of this venture, the airline part of which was called Transcontinental Air Transport, working in partnership with two of the biggest and best American railroads, the Pennsylvania and the Santa Fe.

As with all the images, click to enlarge.

The first trip westbound from New York to Los Angeles commenced at 6:05 p.m. on July 7, 1929; one-way fare was $351.94, equivalent to $4790 in today's dollars (see measuringworth.com, a handy little site for converting money figures past and present).  Passengers travelled in Pullman sleepers overnight to a new airport near Columbus, Ohio, where they left the train and boarded a Ford Tri-Motor, a highly reliable, state-of-the art aircraft seating ten passengers in comfy wicker chairs with seat belts, each one next to an operable window.  While the pilot and co-pilot kept the plane on course towards stops in Indianapolis, St. Louis, Kansas City, Wichita, and Waynoka, Oklahoma, a uniformed steward served drinks and meals.  No stewardesses in those days - aviation was considered "a man's job."

Scenes of the trusty Ford Tri-Motor in flight.

In Waynoka, reached after a full day of flying at about 2500 feet and 100 miles per hour, passengers boarded a Santa Fe train and slept again in Pullmans while speeding through the night to Clovis, New Mexico, where again they boarded another "Tin Goose" to fly to Albuquerque, Winslow and Kingman, Arizona, and finally landing in Los Angeles late in the afternoon. There, passengers bound for San Francisco had the choice of taking an overnight train or going by a connecting flight the next morning.

Unfortunately, the airline never turned a profit, and business was not helped by a couple of ugly crashes - due to bad weather or mid-air collisions in those pre-radar, pre-FAA days - that killed all aboard.  Critics and scoffers said TAT meant "Take a Train." Nevertheless, in the first year of operation, 30,000 undaunted passengers made the trip.

In November 1929, TAT merged with a competing western airline, and the result was, several mergers later, the very successful, globe-spanning TWA system. However, by 1932 aviation technology had improved to the point that night flying was possible, making the coasts only 24 hours apart, so the partnership with railroads quickly became unnecessary.

Still, it was the latest, greatest, coolest swellest thing for its time - now merely a quaint memory, but no doubt pretty amazing then for those who could afford the fare.  For further reading, see this 1975 American Heritage article.

Temps Perdu: 1948

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The New Yorker, October 9, 1948
Click to enlarge.


This might become a new feature here on the Blue Truck:  a picture or two, perhaps with an audio/visual clip, from a bygone era.

The truth is, guys, your Head Trucker just doesn't want to write about the modern world much these days.  I'm aware of the major news stories, and I more or less keep up with the coverage of politics and especially LGBT issues highlighted by the blogs I list in the righthand sidebar for your convenience.

Yet even though the progress towards full equality continues apace, by halting steps - and here I might add, the general progress of the world, too - still, in this day and time, there is a certain nauseating sourness mixed into the stream of life, a hatefulness and nastiness that I'm sick of reading about and thinking about.

And it is wreaked not merely by the well-known bad guys who may be leaping immediately to your mind:  it's endemic in the modern world, a coarseness and harshness that pervades all levels of society; something none of us can help being tainted with, to some degree or other, just by being alive at this period. 

Of course, there has never been a Golden Age upon the earth, exempt from ignorance, folly, selfishness, self-righteousness, cruelty, and outright brutality.  But perhaps we are more aware of it all now, if we are paying attention, than ever before because of the widespread ease of communication - perhaps too easy in some ways - of this much-vaunted Information Age.

Then too, when you reach a certain age, as your Head Trucker has, long observation as well as painful disappointment have opened your eyes to what human nature is, and how the world really operates.  Even the nice people - beloved by friends and family alike, pillars of the community or just good neighbors - even the nicest people are, at bottom, and more often than not, actuated by self-interest rather than genuine love:  and thus even the very nicest people are capable of quiet cruelties and callous ruthlessness.

I could say more on this topic - a lot more - but to dwell upon a fact of life so large and so irremediable is deeply distressing, more than I can tell you.  And my voice is so small and weak, that of a lone sparrow in an immense forest, that it would serve no purpose to explain further.  Never complain, never explain, is a very good rule; when I was young, it made no sense to me, but now I understand completely.

Instead, I propose to blog more on pleasant things, and less on hateful ones.  Of course, sometimes one can hardly help speaking out on a subject one feels strongly about; but even if the dike is crumbling and the waters will drown us all one day, one might as well spend the meantime cheerfully.  I'm an old man, or nearly so, and I'm just tired, very tired, of raging against the storm.  Which does no good as far as I can see.

But here, just for the sake of beauty and good cheer - and what can we offer one another, if not that? - are a few random things of interest I came across today, from the year when Harry Truman was making his whistlestop campaign tour, the Berlin Airlift was in full swing, and television was still a novelty, unseen by 9 out of 10 Americans.  Perhaps one or more of the following will raise a smile on your face.

Programming schedule from TV station KTLA, Los Angeles, 1948.
Notice that it operated only a few hours a day.




Motorola advertises the 1948 version of home theater in this ad.
But those early TV screens ranged from only about 5 to 10 inches diagonally.

India was only a couple of days away via a beautiful Constellation,
and Ireland just 13 hours from New York - imagine!

A good hat always adds to a man's studliness, a fact that our
hatless modern age has forgotten.  Pity.

That year, running boards were out, and automatic transmissions were in:




And believe it or not, here's Ronald Reagan lambasting outrageous corporate profits and lying Republicans - before he went over to the dark side, obviously.




And I saved the best for last, if you're still with me this far. From Canada, the CBC radio women's editor Kate Aitken gives a short chat on homely things like a scrumptious-sounding sour cream chicken recipe. Nothing earthshaking here, and I can't embed it; but do go listen to this lovely voice from home in a more civilized time:

Sunday Dinner with Kate Aitken, November 19, 1948.

Funny but Sad

. . . the actions of overnight folk hero Steven Slater, I mean.  On the one hand, I can sympathize deeply:  dealing with the public is very stressful and can work your last nerve - especially when you've just been knocked in the head hard enough to leave a big bruise, and called a motherfucker just for doing your job.

(And why is it Slater's face is all over the news, and not that of the asshole who slammed him?)

I can understand very well how it is that a person can reach a breaking point.  And we've all lost it, one time or another, with our co-workers or customers, haven't we?  To a smaller or greater degree.

On the other hand, though Slater's story works great as a what-if joke . . . I think we should keep a sense of perspective.  Slater's response was very understandable, and even forgiveable - but not very admirable.  Not a model of how to behave.

I mean, it's not the way a man should act, is it?  Especially a trained pro of many years experience.

Grace under pressure is something to cultivate:  in a man, especially, much more admirable and attractive.

To be grown up - to be civilized - is to admire self-control more than instinct.  As an ideal, anyway.

Capt. Sullenberger, Steve Slater.