Motion Picture (Aug 1940-Jan 1941)

Up in the Air With the Stars [Continued from page 45] taking everything in stride, from finding the right shade of lipstick for a movie star's lips to handling a man gone berserk. They know that Miriam Hopkins always has her berth made up before she boards the plane, that she takes a sedative and seldom likes to be disturbed from coast to coast, that she doesn't like lamb chops so that, if she does call for dinner en route, she — well, she doesn't get lamb chops ! They know that Jock Whitney, clubman, horseman and financier, always buys one whole section on a plane so that he can use both berth mattresses and all four pillows. They know that Lawrence Tibbett's friends usually send him a dinner, from the Brown Derby or Sardi's, before he takes off from Glendale. They know that Norma Shearer is nervous in the air and are prepared to distract her with scientific explanations of flying, together with geographical and topographical facts, knowing that there is something soothing about cold, unhysterical facts. THEY know that men who pilot their own planes, such men as Brian Aherne, Paul Lukas, Wally Beery, are apt to be nervous in flight where laymen, who don't know a wing from a propeller, are not. They know that Victor McLaglen usually sits up all night because he's too long for a berth. And they are prepared to handle all of these demands, idiosyncrasies and special requests — as well as any major emergencies. "A man got on at Glendale Airport one day," stewardess Ruth Davis told me, "and the instant we took off I felt strange about him. I thought he acted queerly. But I couldn't put my finger on why I thought so. He wasn't noisy. He was obviously NOT drunk. I didn't know what was the matter with him but had a feeling in my bones that something was. "We hadn't been off the ground half an hour before he called me to him and said, 'stewardess, I'm going to pilot this plane!' I told him that that was impossible, that passengers are not even allowed to enter the control room. He repeated, still quietly and very matter-of-factly, 'nevertheless, I am going to pilot this plane !' I again told him that it was out of the question, that he could not enter the control room. And then he said, 'but I can shoot my way in !' "I knew then, that I was up against something. Not wishing to alarm the other passengers I suggested to him that we go into the sky room, which happened to be vacant, and talk it over. He followed me very quietly. On the way I rang for the first officer. The first officer joined us in the sky room, took charge of the situation, telling our passenger that he would have to restrain him forcibly if he even said anything further along this line. The man kept quiet until we came down at the next stop. There an ambulance met the plane. Two white-coated attendants removed our passenger. The ambulance was from the neighboring insane asylum : The man was insane!" On another occasion, Dorothy Travis told me, a little woman boarded the plane at Newark Airport. She went directly to bed and in the general activity of the takeoff, getting the passengers settled in their respective seats, supplying them with evening papers, removing their wraps, etc., the stewardess did not pay any particular attention to the little woman beyond seeing that she was comfortable in her berth. By the time the second stewardess of the flight came aboard the woman was very ill. Stewardesses of American Airlines are photogenic enough to work with Dennis Morgan in Flight Angel. Left to right are Peg O'Grady, Marguerite Bladow, Marjorie Schneider, Morgan, Doyle Derry, Anita Stanfill, Thelma Fuller, Jacqueline Zinn She spoke very broken English and so it was difficult to diagnose what was wrong with her. She sobbed so constantly that she was even more incoherent than she normally might have been. Midway across the country she did manage to blurt out to Miss Travis, "Me, I am sick with the child !" "When?" asked the stewardess. "At any instant it will be," moaned the little woman. So that there, nine thousand feet above the earth, Miss Travis was faced with the imminent necessity of delivering a bafey ! That she was delivered from the delivery, that they reached Glendale Airport in time, though only just in time, still gives Miss Travis cause for thanksgiving. . . . Not that she couldn't have handled it. That's why only registered nurses can become stewardesses. Not only must they be registered nurses with a year or two of practiced nursing behind them, but they must also be girls of proven stability of character, resourcefulness, gameness under any kind of "fire." More, their memories must be prodigious. Once fly with a stewardess and she has you down, a butterfly impaled on a pin, forevermore. She knows what you eat and don't eat, whether you are nervous or phlegmatic, just a complete plot of your background and character ! THEIR versatility would more than do justice to any virtuoso of stage, screen, opera or circus . . . for they can turn from a nerve-tingling piece of "business" as mentioned above to humoring Frank Morgan who spends his time in flight in bed, and that every hour or so during the entire trip he sticks his head out of the curtains and asks, "When do we eat?" They know that the Hollywood producers when they travel by air — and most of them do — usually play bridge — and bridge with high and heated stakes. They can turn from "putting down at Dallas" a gentleman who had a phobia for ringing door-bells and, his phobia widely awakened by the altitude no doubt, proceeded to run from section to section ringing all of the passengers' bells for the stewardess, to taking care of Joan Bennett's dog which, against all precedent, Joan once brought with her aboard the flagship Mercury. She had bought the little "man's best friend" in Europe and when she boarded the plane at Newark Airport, the small Spaniel accompanied her. Catering to a canine was just another little chore for the stewardesses on that flight. They can turn from the problem of wrestling with a Herculean gentleman who took a fancy to "bail out without a parachute" to considering such facets of human nature as that Don Ameche "bubbles all the time he is in the air." "First thing you know," said Miss Fuller, "he has all the people in the plane talking together and friendly." Miss Fuller also told me that one morning some months and flights ago, she went into the men's wash room one morning and discovered a gentleman, shirtless and shaving. He greeted her cordially, saying: "Could I come back and help you wash the dishes?" Miss Fuller explained that she didn't wash the dishes and although she appreciated the offer, which she had never had from passengers before, either male or female, it wouldn't be necessary, thanks very much. A few minutes [Continued on page 78] 53