Almost every stand-up comedian has some kind of joke about airline luggage handling. My personal opinion is that the airlines do a remarkable job of getting your luggage to the same place as your body. With all the non-direct flights, late departures and last minute gate changes, it amazes me that my luggage ever makes it. It my fifty-seven years of being an airline passenger and belonging to the million miles club on three airlines; I have never lost a bag. I have had them arrive late on four occasions; but they always caught up with me.
However, in my career as an airport bum hanging out where air-taxi operations, low budgets charter outfits, wealthy playboy owned airplanes and corporate aircraft are the normal denizens; I have accumulated a good stock of stories about luggage belonging to the people that are on these types of flights.
One story involves a corporation in the Fortune 100, actually in the top five for as long as I can remember. After World War II, military surplus aircraft were dirt cheap and many large corporations purchased them and converted them into luxurious executive transport machines. This particular corporation had purchased several surplus B-23 bombers and fitted them to carry about eight executives in comfort with plenty of work space, sleeping accommodations and of course a well equipped galley and complete bar. It was rumored that the two flight attendants present on every flight were culled from the ranks of Las Vegas show girls. The FBO (Fixed Base Operation) where I worked in the fifties was located near to one of the corporation’s large manufacturing facilities. Consequently, the aircraft landed and parked overnight at our facility four or five times a year. They usually called ahead for a taxi and the VIP’s were swept off to the factory as soon as the aircraft landed. They came back to the airport and departed the same way without any fanfare.
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| Military version of Douglas B-23 |
On one occasion we discovered a very expensive attaché case in our main office about two hours after the aircraft had departed. One of the executives must have come in to use the restrooms and forgot to carry his attaché case back to the aircraft. We locked it up in the boss’ office and assumed we would get a call when the aircraft landed and the owner realized it was missing. Several weeks passed and no inquiry came. The owner of the FBO decided to be proactive and asked one of the mechanics, who had learned his trade while a guest in the State Penitentiary, to open the locks on the attaché case. Perhaps there would be some correspondence or documents that would identify the owner.
There was great anticipation in the office as the mechanic carefully picked the locks without damaging them. The corporation did a lot of work for the Department if Defense. Maybe there would be folders stamped “Top Secret” and we would all be interrogated by the CIA. When the cover popped up, we realized that this was not a working briefcase; it was an overnight playboy survival kit! They were silk pajamas, seventy-five year old VSOP Cognac, expensive chocolates, fine Cuban cigars, condoms and mechanical devices with bumps and feathers that we had never seen before. There was not a single clue as to the owner’s identity. We relocked it and put it in the corners of the boss’ office. When I quit working for that FBO five years later, the case was still gathering dust in that corner.
Another story that sort of involves lost luggage occurred while I was working at that same FBO. In this case the lost bag was a camera bag. The camera bag showed up on a bench that was outside the door to our office. In nice weather, this bench was a gathering place for airport bums to gather and watch, talk about and tell lies about airplanes. Our secretary opened the bag looking for something that would identify the owner. The bag contained a rather expensive state-of-the-art single lens reflex 35mm camera; but not a clue about the owner’s identity. She brought it into the office and put it on a table in pilot’s lounge that served as a repository for various items that people left lying around the office and hanger. We assumed the owner would claim it soon because it was quite expensive.
Like the attaché case, several weeks passed and no one came for the camera. I am a rather advanced amateur photographer and had a fairly well equipped darkroom. I suggested developing the film and maybe that would help us locate the owner. My boss approved this plan, so I unloaded the film and took it home with me. The roll was only about half used but the pictures were very revealing – literally. The pictures had been taken inside the Beechcraft D-18 that we used for air-taxi service for larger groups. The interior seating arrangements had a couch on one side of the cabin that was wide enough for three people to sit side-by-side. In these photographs, there was just one person lying down on the couch. She must have been very poor and couldn’t afford to buy clothes because she was naked as a jaybird.
Our secretary had the reputation of knowing everyone that worked at the airport and all about them. She immediately identified the lady in the picture as a ticket counter agent for one of the major airlines. She agreed to ask her discreetly about the photo session and try to return the camera to its rightful owner. After she had this conversation, we heard this interesting explanation.
Let’s just call the naked girl Suzy. Suzy had a face and figure that would qualify her to be a centerfold in a men’s magazine. A customer had convinced her that he was a photographer for such a magazine and offered her one hundred dollars to pose for some test shots. She should have known he was a phony when he didn’t ask her to sign a model’s release form. He wanted the pictures to be taken inside an airplane and no empty airliners happened to be available. It was late at night so she suggest going down to the FBO to see if an empty corporate aircraft was overnighting. Our aircraft was unlocked and empty and they began the photo shoot. After several photos, the fake photographer tried to convince Suzy that he should get more for his investment. That was a big mistake because Suzy happen happened to have a hobby that she practiced to help keep her in such fine physical shape. She had earned a black belt for her achievements in this hobby. Evidently the guy dropped his camera and bag on his hasty retreat from the airplane and Suzy’s lethal feet and hands. One of security people must have picked it up and put it on the bench while making his regular rounds. All Suzy wanted was the negatives and prints. She suggested I keep the camera for recovering the photographs for her. I still use it to this day.
And that’s the truth!
Bowinkle T. Propwash
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