Captain Jimmy Walken, is a florid-faced, bow-legged stump of a crazy Irishman. The name Walken doesn’t sound very Irish — but he’s as Irish as you can get — maybe he’s German! Anyway, Jimmy is always in a good mood, walking around with his head and hat both cocked to the side, eyes flashing.
Came a day when we were paired together as a crew. Continental flew two flights from Honolulu to Los Angeles and to San Francisco, both departing at 8:00 AM. Our DC-10 had pushed back from the gate, and we were heading out to the active runway, the “reef runway,” in Honolulu, which is quite a long taxi.
This plane is packed, every seat and every flight attendant jump-seat is occupied. There’s a knock at the cockpit door. It’s the Flight Service Manager, the chief flight attendant. He asks if we could allow “Janetfrom-another-planet,” one of our spaciest flight attendants, to sit on a cockpit jump-seat. In her ozoned condition, Janet had gotten on the wrong plane. She was supposed to be working on the San Francisco flight. Now, mistakenly on the Los Angeles flight, there was no seat for her anywhere in the cabin. To be legal for take-off, she needed a place to sit, and with a seatbelt on.
We are cleared “into position and hold” on the active runway, about to take off. Jimmy turns and says, “Janet, so long as I have a face, you’ll always have a place to sit.” A typical Walken remark, as he grants her access to the cockpit. She sits on the jump-seat and buckles herself in. Jimmy has saved her job. We take off, and the rest of the flight is routine.
It turns out that “Janet-from-Another-Planet,” offended by Jimmy’s remark, writes a letter to the FAA and to the Company, accusing Jimmy of some kind of sexual infraction. We are called in to see the Honolulu base Chief Pilot, Brock Pyle, a typical “office-puke.” He’s an ex-marine, with a close-cropped buzz cut, and that anal, meticulous nature with the personality of a dial-tone.
Brock asks Jimmy if there’s any truth to this story, showing him Janet’s letter. Jimmy looks at him, his hat cocked, and with those flashing, smiling blue eyes, says “Brock, I’ve been saying that to flight attendants for twenty-five years. If I told you I didn’t do it this time, would you believe me?” The office staff broke up, Pyle included.
Weeks later, Jimmy was called before an F.A.A. Board of Inquiry. The board consisted of five members, all of whom happened to be men, and the circumstances of the story were once again reviewed.
Jimmy was ultimately cleared of any regulatory infractions. After the official verdict was rendered, and we were all leaving the room, one of the F.A.A. guys booms out, “Captain, the next time you ask a flight attendant to sit on your face, just make sure you tell her to put her seat belt on, as well!”