Comments:

• larsogkirk said:

  My first flight was on a DC7 from Copenhagen to Malaga in Spain the flight took about 6,5 hours,it was in 66 and i can still remember the noise.. A few years later in 71 i flew with SAS on a DC8-63 on their so call "Milk run" from Copenhagen to Manila, it had 7 stops on the way, and i can still remember a lot of detalis, helped along with a 1971 SAS timetable...

  Posted: 1:16 PM PST, 3/14/2011

• sineater2009 said:

  My first flight was on a Frontier Airlines 727. I flew from Bismarck ND to Minot ND. The flight was about 20 minutes!! I can always remember the day because it was also the day the US landed on the moon for the first time.

  Posted: 8:14 AM PST, 7/26/2010

• edricalvin said:

  My first, was Capital's 872, DC-4 "Nighthawk" from Knoxville to Pittsburgh. I was eleven and taller than dad, so he'd put me to summer-work in his Esso station pumping gas and doing "island service" for 35-cents an hour when the prevailing minimum wage was 75-cents, so as with others of you, the $18.04 fare was a CHUNK of income! My 20-years senior brother in Knoxville stayed up to drive me to the 4:30 am check-in at TYS; he'd flown B-24s in WW2. Hot August night; locusts buzzing outside the window of the Mercury Monterey hardtop, my heart was pounding. Climbing those stairs with the midpoint "landing" I wanted to pause for photos as I'd seen hundreds do at PIT, but alas I was not a 'celeb' to anyone but me... I was, yes, an airport junkie. The portside window seat, two rows ahead of the door. Everything smelled of cigarettes. I'd planned for months to sit behind the boarding door, where two seats faced two others, where I could maybe have my sensory overload and cry at the "wonder", unobserved... but alas as a "big boy", the stew said I'd "make us tail-heavy" and I didn't want to be responsible for THAT... little knowing that's where SHE was headed to hide, as soon as we were aloft! I remember the thuds from below, as baggage doors were slammed; and the dulling of start-up engine noise insulation provided; the runway warm-up, and how the whole plane wiggled and rocked, and finally the thoroughbred-racehorse thunder as we galloped into the air. City lights at 8,000 feet were magic; my splitting headache despite the complimentary 2-pack of "Capital Chicklets" took the blush off the glamor of unpressurized cabin's crews work-world; orange sparks from engine exhaust carbon build-up breaking free in the airstream SHOT like chips of slag out from under the wing. Fifty-five years later I've still not once counted sheep, to doze off... I just board Flight 872 and before we're over Charleston, and I'm "over and OUT".

  Posted: 8:28 AM PST, 7/8/2009