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The Gift of Time
It was December 1984. I was a temporary, part-time employee working as a ramp agent for one of the major airlines in Salt Lake City, Utah. Back then, temporary, part-time work didn't include benefits of any kind.
Earlier that year, my husband and I found out we were unexpectedly expecting our third child. To our surprise, we were ecstatic and figured we would take each day as it came and prayed I wouldn't lose my job.
As a ramp agent, the job description required me to be able to physically lift up to 70 pounds at any given time. Twenty-five years ago, it was unusual to see a female working on the ramp as a baggage handler.
Within the company, female ramp agents were commonly referred to as a rampett. Remember the cartoon, The Smurfs? Being called a rampett often reminded me of the lone female Smurfett from the cartoon. I'm sure the title today would be classified as sexist, but at the time, no one thought twice about it. In fact, I was quite proud that I could load the bin of a 727 aircraft as well as any of the guys. Rampett or rampee... who cared? We all had the same job to do.
Though I was working for a major airline, Salt Lake City was still a new station for us, and as such, there were only 24 employees, which included our ticket agents and marketing personnel. We had to do it all... load the plane, restock the supplies, and clean it. Not to mention the deep cleaning of the overnight aircraft. Yikes!
At six months pregnant, I emphatically told my supervisor I wasn't quitting and if they (the powers that be) wanted me out of there, they were going to be hard pressed to find a good reason to fire me. As I made that statement, I knew it would mean loading and cleaning airplanes right up to my due date without any complaints on my part... ugh, the thought! But believe me, I had set my mind to the task, and I was not going to give them a good reason to fire me!
Luckily, I had also been trained as a load planner, which was most often an inside position. The last three months of my pregnancy, the guys I worked with (who were also trained) relinquished their rights to that job assignment, and I pretty much became the official load planner. That meant I had a desk job (sort of), and I was in charge of planning the weight distribution of the aircraft. However, I still had to assist loading bags, emptying trash, replenishing supplies, and cleaning the aircraft while it was on the ground, all the necessary things to ensure an on-time departure.
(I shudder when I think of being eight months pregnant, standing in the wheel well of a 727 to get a plumb-bob reading for an inoperative fuel gauge. But I digress... that is another story entirely.)
Having absolutely no maternity leave to speak of, I worked swaps with several of my co-workers prior up to my due date, all in order to build up paid time once I gave birth. Everyone knew how concerned I was about the six weeks without pay and the financial hardship that meant to my family.
My due date was December 19th. From November 1st to December 15th, I worked without one single day off. (I'm sure it was probably illegal, but it was one of those "I won't say anything if you don't" situations.)
To make a long story short... (unbeknownst to me) my supervisor, along with all the guys I worked with, obtained approval from our station manager to each work a day in my name, giving me an additional six days of pay during those six weeks.
By the time December 19th rolled around, I had built up approximately three weeks of paid time. When the guys surprised me with a card, I was brought to tears as I read the words stating what they intended to do. One by one, the signatures jumped off the page. I knew what a huge sacrifice this meant for them... eight hours of free labor. Even now, it still boggles my mind!
I will never forget the faces of each one of those guys, my co-workers... my friends. The gift they unselfishly gave me that year is beyond words, and I am eternally grateful.
We've all gone our separate ways. Some are still with the airline, and some are not. Yet I wonder to this day if they have any idea how much that gift of generosity meant to my family and to me! My love for them in that moment will always be a part of me.
Every now and then, I like to take a moment to revisit my past. It reminds me that we all have many treasures waiting to be dug up and dusted off. This memory is one of mine.
Wishing everyone... Abundance, Health, and Harmony,
Jolene West
Muse: To be absorbed in one's thoughts; engage in meditation. Not intended to solve the world's problems, another person's problems, or to cover topics completely. One does not have to agree with musings to enjoy them, just as one does not have to be the same as someone else to appreciate who they are.
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