I know, when you think about people that lose their homes and sleep in their car, this isn’t the vision that comes to mind. It can happen to anyone and any car, trust me.
Having a contract for a full time gig was not job security. When a new management company opted for a different flight attendant and let me go, I was back out in the contract crew member market. While the San Francisco Bay area was a target rich environment for work, it was also the most expensive housing market in the country. I had been fortunate to snag a 700 square foot dream cottage in Carmel to the tune of $3,000/month. That was actually more reasonable than if I had tried to live up near Silicon Valley (where I worked) and a lot more beautiful. It wasn’t beyond my means, since a full time corporate flight attendant in the Bay Area earned over $100,000/year. It also didn’t leave a lot of money for saving. That was the reality of living on the West Coast.
Living the dream in Carmel
The contract crew member market is extremely competitive since very few operators hire full time flight attendants and most crew are independent contractors available to numerous clients. Prior to going full time, I had a client list that kept me busy after working my way to the top of the list of contractors. My reputation and experience made me marketable and work came regularly.
After stepping away from the contract market and flying for one client for a few years, new people populated the go-to contract flight attendant list and clients had moved on. I was grateful that old clients would send me a trip when they needed extra help, but the work was not regular enough to support that lifestyle. With very little money coming in virtually overnight, I started going through my savings to cover the basic expenses. I wasn’t too concerned at first because I knew I’d be back in the saddle soon. Soon was not really in the cards as the market had grown substantially while I worked for the client I loved, and new faces had flooded the market. I had to start over and that was a slow process. Something had to give.
The reality was hitting that I had to find a cheaper way to live. I began eyeing nice little back alleys and under footbridges where I could park while out walking with my dog every day. I knew, however, that the Carmel police were vigilant and I couldn’t park my car where it did not belong for long. Scanning Craigslist every day for the entire Bay area was not turning up a viable solution. I took one more hit to my income and I knew the gig was up. That’s ok, I love camping and I’ll figure it out.
I was fortunate I had plenty of friends I knew would take me in, but really? My reluctance to admit that as a highly educated and successful professional I had let my situation get to that point kept me in hiding. I gave my notice at my cottage, put everything in storage and set out in my car with my dog. I felt lucky that I lived in such a beautiful part of the country that I had lovely options for parking.
Sadly my suspicions about the values of the world were confirmed. I was fortunate, but it was disappointing as well. I figured the authorities wouldn’t bother a clean, nicely dressed woman in a Mercedes at a rest stop. I was right. I would take my travel toiletries into the rest room in the evening, wash up and get ready for bed and then retire in the back of my SUV with my dog. I would park between two big rigs if possible for security. My dog had a great bed set up full time in the back of the car, so I just added some memory foam and a pillow to the remaining space and settled in.
Have bed, will travel!
During the day, Maxx and I would go on great hikes and stop at lakes for him to swim. It was my goal that his life remain as normal as possible. After his play, we would sit outside for hours at a Starbucks or McDonalds and use the wifi to apply for work online and look for new options. I ate a lot of high protein energy bars for meals but kept his diet the same. I would check in with friends on Facebook and maintain a normal public persona and nobody knew.
I called this “First World Homeless” because I knew I was lucky and had options. I had a car. I looked normal, like I was just out on adventure. This ultimately tore my heart out because I was very conscious of the benefits white, affluent privilege was affording me. I knew that if I had tried that in an old Chevy with cardboard over one of the windows and wore the same old clothes for days because they were all I had; I would have been rousted at the first stop. The very people who had no hope and no options and needed a place to rest the most were denied that privilege. My handsome Golden Retriever did not attract the attention a Rottweiler or Pit Bull might have, we were invisible. We were allowed to cruise under the radar because we looked like something society was comfortable with. I was crushed. I would see the look in the truly hopeless eyes of those waiting outside of gas stations or Target for even a little help. They always expected help from me after I parked my Mercedes to fill up with gas. I began giving meals and dog food and dog toys to these people and handing out a dollar to everyone at every stop sign that was begging. I had to give up some things to do that, but the inequity was horrible, and I could not fancy myself to be above it. I no longer could pretend not to notice. I had no right to call myself “homeless” in any fashion and began referring to myself as “between places” if asked. I always felt like I would come out the other side and the true homeless had lost that hope.
Finally, I did come out the other side. I got hired by an extremely wealthy and prominent gentleman in Dallas to join his flight crew roster. That was perfect for me since I had lived in Dallas for over 15 years and still had a lot of friends there and a great support system. One of my dearest friends from my initial flight attendant training invited Maxx and me to stay in her guest room while I got my feet back on the ground. There aren’t a lot of people who would take a roommate on at this age, especially one with a dog. I was beyond blessed and I knew it. I pointed my car south and hit the road. I tapped into my bank of Marriott points that I had accumulated as a flight attendant and stayed in Marriotts on the trip. It felt like pure luxury. I would load up at the free breakfast and bring eggs and bacon back to the room for Maxx every morning. After hitting the bread, peanut butter and jelly, I’d make a sandwich for lunch on the road and I was almost set. A few pieces of fruit and some bottled water and we would be good for the day. At the end of the day, due to my elite platinum status, I could visit the concierge lounge and make dinner out of the offerings and enjoy a civilized glass of wine. I looked just like any business person stopping in at the end of the day. It worked…
My time in Dallas was great to reconnect with my friends down there and catch my breath. The flying just wasn’t panning out to be enough to sustain me and the market did not have as many openings as California did. As I was contemplating a plan C, I got a call from one of the large companies I had interviewed with in Oakland months earlier. They were ready to take on some new flight attendants and wanted me. Not seeing many options in Dallas, I thanked my dear friend for the extended visit and pointed the car back North and West. Another friend took us in when we got back in town until the money started coming in steadily and I could get my own place again. We had weathered the storm.
I’m grateful for the storm. I learned so much.
I was grateful for the karma that clearly flowed back to me during my time of need. I was humbled and frightened by the incredible umbrella of privilege I lived under and became passionate about being aware of that and trying to undo the eons of discrimination I had unknowingly been nurtured by.
I reached back and offered a hand to mentor those coming along behind me in aviation rather than just continue my own climb up the ladder unladen.
Why did I throw this in to the story and not leave it hidden?
Because my experience was not a unique one for corporate flight attendants. It has happened to others. My heart breaks at just selling the dream of flying around with the rich and famous and living a private jet lifestyle to others. There is a much bigger picture and very few achieve the dream unscathed.
The flight crews are predominantly contract workers employed at will and can be let go any time. What is alarming is that you typically don’t get fired for just doing a bad job or showing up late. Typically, the axe falls because one pilot decides you offended him, or a new management company takes over and prefers younger crew. It can happen overnight and then you are on your own again.
I want to make sure that people reading about my amazing career opportunities know that when it is good, it is very, very good. You must be pragmatic, though, and always prepare for the bad. It’s truly an all-or-nothing business. You pay to play and then enter at your own risk.
The good was so good that I went back in and had a few more years of fabulous experiences. I was back in the air and experiencing the world like I had never left. I had a renewed appreciation for every opportunity that came my way and made sure I didn’t miss a thing. The journey continued.
Whitefish Dog and Home 