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Gordy
and Madelane's Day 1
6:00pm Last Thursday I UPSed my tripod and lighting equipment. It arrived today in Virginia, just outside of Washington, DC. Zoe and I spent the afternoon together. A nice lunch at the Smilin' Dog at Bayview. She drove me down to the ferry. I will miss her. She should have been on this trip. Hopefully, when she gets better, that will happen. I would love to share New York City with her as much as she would love to share it with me. This is my first trip to DC and NYC. NYC is very familiar to Zoe. Her family had a clothing store, Gillman's, in West Hartford, CT, for many years and their buying trips were to the garment district in New York City. My mom said that the garment district is just above Greenwich Village. Zoe said to check out the delis there. Real delis. Not the sissy delis we have on the west coast. I miss you already, Zoe.
My sister, Madelane, met me at the ferry. She had her daughter, Chantelle, and her granddaughter, Hannah, with her. We drove to Kirkland to pick up up a friend of Madelane's, Cathy, who was to come with us in order to drive Madelane's car back to Kirkland. Chantelle reminded me that today's date is 4-20. We celebrated appropriately. Madelane, Chantelle, Cathy, and I were actually on the road to the airport by a little after 7pm and checked in at the Northwest Airlines counter by 8pm.
We spent an hour adjusting Madelane's attitude with a double White Russian. Actually a double and a half White Russian after Chantelle gave up on her single. It's a shame how children lead their parents astray. Then there was security. I had weird camera stuff for the pictures I am going to take at the Washington, DC, Navy Yard and was apprehensive about trying to explain what they were but my apprehension was unwarranted. It was my belt buckle that set off the alarm. A quick wand down and a short train ride and we were at our gate. I put film in the camera; made one last rip to the restroom and we were loading The seat pitch is on the friendly side – the real friendly side.
I'm on the aisle and look across the aisle, past the young mother holding a two-year old, out the opposite window to the lights below. We go into the clouds and the flashing wing-tip light strobes lightning for awhile. The strobing finally stops and the ground has disappeared. It's black outside and the ears pop a little. The lights are low in the cabin as sensible people try to get some sleep. We are flying a 757. I jumped out of one of these once. I was working at the Boeing Wind Tunnel at the time; working on the 757 and 767 low speed and high speed models during the late 70s. There was a call for volunteers for the evacuation certification test. Before a commercial airliner could be certified and put in service, the manufacturer has to demonstrate that the airplane has sufficient emergency exits to clear the plane in a specified time. The only way to do this was to simulate the evacuation of the plane under conditions that mimicked a crash. On the appointed day, we assembled at the main Boeing cafeteria at Boeing Field in South Seattle. We were issued numbered vests and a predetermined number of women were issued dolls — to simulate infants. While we were receiving our instructions the flight crew came through the back of the room. The were in high spirits. They loaded us on buses and drove us to the Renton plant where we entered a door in the factory and walked down a makeshift tunnel made of 2x4s and plastic sheeting to the foot to the stairs going up into the airplane. We all found a seat and looked out the windows into blackness. The crew came in with carry-on luggage and left luggage strewn on the floor to simulate the obstacles passengers would likely have to run over in an evacuation. The crew invited us on board, as they do on all flights, and went through the standard talk on seat cushions and safety belts. We were anticipating something but we didn't know what. We sat there for about 10 minutes. The cabin lights were on and people were chatting. Things were starting to get boring. Then the lights went off and the emergency cabin lights came on the flight crew came bursting out of the cockpit screaming “Evacuate! Evacuate!” and the adrenalin hit as people started standing and moving into the aisle as the crew ran screaming, as loud as they could, towards the door shoving people back into their seats. There wasn't anything that the flight crew was going to let get in their way as they had to get to the door first in order to get it open . Instantly it went...
Actually, they taste OK. Definitely it's the salt, partially hydrogenated vegetable oil (soybeans) and artificial butter flavoring that makes this pretzel an in-flight favorite. That, and it being the only thing available to snack on. Well, not really. Earlier today, Zoe gave me a Care package when we were lunching at the Smilin' Dog. I had chocolate. I intend to parcel it out later. Yes, a fine aerial repast with a touch of turbulence. Back to jumping out of airplanes... Instantly we went from curious bored to a full fledged adrenalin rushing we're all going to die survival mode. I jumped up and started for the aisle only to come to a dead stop waiting for those in front of me to move. Finally we started to move down the aisle to the escape door. I didn't even notice the bags on the floor. The closer we got to the door the quicker we were moving. We were only evacuating on the left side of the airplane. I turned left and there was the open door looking into blackness except for a fog of powder from when the escape slide inflated. As I neared the door I could see that the flight crew members were throwing the passengers out the door. I started to run towards the door and a hand pushed me straight out the door. It was black everywhere except for the emergency lights shining on the inflated rubber slide below me. I dropped several feet, landed on my butt, and started sliding down the slide. Hot damn! This is better than Disneyland! I can see the bottom of the slide and people are too slow in getting up and the people sliding down behind them are starting to stack up in a chain reaction. The slider in front of me is to smart by half and sees the sliders in front of him hitting each other and rolls over the side of the escape chute and drops down a little further onto the floor than he thought, spraining his wrist. We untangle ourselves at the bottom of the slide and are directed into small groups in the darkened room with the fog of powder. It was an eerie light and we watched as the rest of the passengers jumped out the door. Finally there were no more sliders. An all-clear was called and the room lights came on. We were in the giant finally assembly building for the 757 and there were galleries of spectators watching and clapping and cheering. We had cleared the airplane in record time. I think it was under two minutes. The rest of the evening is not clear except that the adrenalin rush lasted well into the next day.
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