My fantasies of an aircrew of my own, of course, were motivated by more than just a desire for companionship. An aircrew-and I thought of an aircrew only in terms of stewardesses-would lend concrete validity to my role of airline pilot. I had learned that a solitary pilot was always subject to scrutiny. Conversely, a pilot trailing a squad of lovely stewardesses would almost certainly be above- suspicion. If I had a beautiful bevy of flight attendants with me in my travels, I could scatter my valueless checks like confetti and they’d be accepted like rice at a wedding, I thought. Not that I was having any trouble passing them at present, but I was passing them one at a time. With a crew behind me, I could cash the sham checks in multiple numbers.

I left Istanbul after a week and flew to Athens. “Don’t you have a crew with you, sir?” asked the hotel desk clerk. I gave him my usual reply, feeling harassed.

The next day I flew to Paris to visit the Lavaliers. “I wish you flew for Air France. I could be a member of your crew,” Monique said at one point during the visit. The remark convinced me that an aircrew was a necessity.

But how did a pilot without portfolio, who didn’t know how to fly, go about assembling an aircrew? I could hardly gather a few girls at random and propose, “Hey, kids, wanna go to Europe? I’ve got this great scheme for passing worthless checks…” And since I had absolutely no connections in the underworld, American or European, I couldn’t look for help there.

I was in West Berlin when a solution presented itself. It was long-range and fraught with risks, but it was also challenging. Pan Am’s hives had always provided the bulk of my honey. If the carrier wasn’t my parent company, I was in a sense its bastard child, and this was an issue demanding filial loyalty.

I’d let Pan Am furnish me a flight crew.

I flew to New York and on arrival called Pan Am’s personnel office, representing myself as the placement director of a small western college, Prescott Presbyterian Normal. “I’m aware that you people send employment recruiting teams to various colleges and universities, and I wondered if you might possibly have our school on your schedule this year?” I said.

“I’m sorry, we don’t,” said the Pan Am personnel officer who took my call. “However, we will have a team on the University of Arizona campus during the last two weeks in October, interviewing students for various positions, and I’m sure they’d be glad to talk to any of your students who might be interested in a career with Pan Am. If you like, we can mail you some brochures.”

“That would be nice,” I said, and gave him a fictitious address for my nonexistent college.

Mine was a plan that demanded the boldness of a mountain climber. I donned my uniform and went to Pan Am’s Hangar 14 at Kennedy. With my phony ID card dangling from my breast pocket, I had no trouble at all gaining entrance, and I spent a leisurely half hour roaming through the stores department until I had accumulated the supplies I needed: envelopes, large manila holders and stationery, all boasting Pan Am’s letterhead, a pad of employment application forms and a stack of colorful brochures.

Back in my motel room, I sat down and composed a letter to the director of the University of Arizona placement office. Pan Am, I said, was initiating a new recruiting technique this year. In addition to the regular personnel recruiters who would visit the campus in October, the letter stated, Pan Am was also fielding pilots and stewardesses to interview prospective pilots and flight attendants, since actual flight personnel could offer a better perspective of what a flying position with Pan Am would entail and could also better evaluate the applicants.

“A pilot will be visiting your campus on Monday, September 9, and will be available for three days to interview stewardess applicants,” the spurious letter stated. “Under separate cover, we are sending you some brochures and employment application forms which you might wish to distribute to interested students.”

I signed the name of Pan Am’s director of personnel to the letter and placed it in a Pan Am envelope. I packaged the brochures and application forms in one of the large manila holders. Then I went to Pan Am’s office building, sought out the airline’s mail room and dropped the missives off with a young clerk, brusquely ordering they be sent air mail.

I thought Pan Am’s own postage meter, with its little Pan Am blurb, “World’s Most Experienced Airline,” would add a little class to the counterfeit mailings.

I dispatched the letter and the other material on August 18. On August 28 I called the University of Arizona and was connected with John Henderson, director of student placement.

“Mr. Henderson, this is Frank Williams, a co-pilot for Pan American World Airways,” I said. “I am scheduled to visit your campus in a couple of weeks, and I’m calling to see if you received our material and if the dates are suitable.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Williams,” enthused Henderson. “We’re looking forward to your visit and we did receive your material. In fact, we’ve posted it about campus, and you should have a goodly number of applicants.”

“Well, I don’t know what was in the letter you received,” I lied. “But I have been instructed by the flight supervisor to interview only juniors and seniors.”

“We understand that, Mr. Williams,” Henderson said. “In fact, all the inquiries I have received so far have been from juniors or seniors.” He volunteered quarters on the campus for me, but I declined, saying I’d already made reservations with a hotel favored by the company.

I appeared on the University of Arizona campus at 8 a.m., Monday, September 9, and Henderson greeted me cordially. I was, of course, in uniform. Henderson had set aside a small room for my use during my stay. “We have thirty applicants to date, and I have scheduled them to appear in lots of ten each day,” he said. “I know, of course, you’ll be talking to them individually, and you can set your own daily schedule, if you wish. But the first ten will be here at 9 a.m.”

“Well, I think I’ll talk to them as a group at first, and then interview them individually,” I said.

The first group of ten coeds was, collectively and individually, simply lovely. More than ever, looking at them, I saw the need for a crew of my own. The ten of them eyed me like I was Elvis Presley about to swing into action.

I affected a businesslike air. “First of all, ladies, I want you to know this is as new to me as it is to you. I’m more used to a cockpit than a classroom, but the company has assigned me this task and I hope I can carry it out successfully. With your help and understanding, I think I can.

“I say ‘understanding’ because I don’t have the final say as to who will be hired and who will not. My job is just to select girls who I think would be most suitable as flight attendants and to make a recommendation in their behalf The personnel director has the authority to reject any or all of the candidates I offer. However, I can also say that you might be hired on my recommendation without your having to be interviewed by anyone else.

“There is also this-it’s unlikely any of you will be hired by Pan Am before you graduate. But if you are selected as a future stewardess, it’s our policy to give you some sort of assistance during your last year in school just so you won’t be tempted to take some other job. Am I making myself clear?”

I was. The girls said so. I then dismissed them as a group and began interviewing them individually. I wasn’t really sure of the type of girl I wanted in my “crew,” but I was sure of the type I didn’t want. I didn’t want a girl who couldn’t handle it if she learned she’d been conned into an elaborate scam.

Totally naive and patently prudish candidates I crossed off immediately. Those who were personable and attractive, but superstraight (the kind of girl an airline would like as a stewardess), I marked as questionable. I put check marks after the names of girls who impressed me as easygoing, somewhat gullible, a little daring or devil-may-care, ultraliberal or not likely to panic in a crisis. I thought the girls who possessed such traits would be the best bets for my make-believe flight squad.