By Mary Cristy

Resident Profile

As a longtime flight attendant on Trans World Airlines, Chris Brown was a pivotal figure on flights that demanded all her skills as she coped with life and death at 40,000 feet and survived a takeoff that terminated with a crash into a muddy ditch in Frankfurt.

Brown’s romance with flight began in her native Philadelphia, on family outings to Northeast Airport “to watch the planes.”

“Later, training as a student nurse in Philadelphia’s Misericordia Hospital taught me to cope with emergencies. The ratio of patients to nurses was 30 to l, and there was a single supervisor. I worked the night shift, which was supposedly quiet. But everything happens at night, and we had no modern technology to help out in a pinch.”

With an impish grin Brown conceded, “Three years of such discipline under the strict supervision of Catholic nuns left us straining at the leash. TWA had a call out for trainees. I applied and was invited to interview. I took an exciting flight on a Super G.l049 four-propeller airplane to Kansas, where I was met by a company pilot.

“Then came the ‘trainee cookie cutter’ routine - identical haircuts, makeovers, cute little hats and uniforms. More serious considerations included how to get out of an upside-down aircraft in the dark. By graduation day, when we received our wings, we ‘air hostesses,’ as we were called then, were eager to fly.”

Ultimately, Brown applied for, and received, assignments on international flights. And with the advent of long-haul aircraft, she became a world traveler.

As a novice on a turnaround flight from Chicago to New York, Brown shared duties with two other flight attendants. But when an emergency call came from the cockpit, it was Brown who was sent to investigate. “The red light was on. I made the two requisite knocks to gain entry, and walked in to see the captain slumped over the controls.” She fought down fear and began to assess the situation. “It took some time to realize I’d been the butt of one of those ‘in’ jokes with which veterans initiated newcomers.” The crew was still laughing when Brown returned to her station, where a distraught woman was waiting.

“‘My husband has gone to the restroom and hasn’t come out,’ she said. He had a bad heart, and she was worried.” Brown rushed for the flight engineer, who opened the door, and the passenger fell dead at her feet.

“When I ran back to the cockpit for help, they snickered, thinking I was retaliating for the trick they’d played on me.” Brown sat with the grieving wife, who said softly, “I’m glad we made this trip.”

During the Vietnam War, while boarding passengers on a London-bound jet Brown noticed a hugely pregnant woman among them. “I had been alternately flying and working in the maternity ward at Cornell Center in New York and could see that she was ready to deliver.”

The captain dismissed Brown’s fears. The young wife, who had just parted with her husband who was bound for duty in Vietnam, was returning to her mother in Norway. She had a doctor’s note clearing her for the trip.

“I questioned the authenticity of that note and urged the captain to reconsider. This was a long flight, and the nearest landfall would be Shannon. I argued and lost. An hour into the flight she began to have contractions. I reported to the captain. ‘Do you remember what you said couldn’t happen? Well, it’s happening.’

“We laid her in the galley, and every father on the plane started to pace. Since I’d been working at the maternity ward I had a hemostat and a clamp in my purse. We improvised with kitchen utensils, and used a roasting pan to catch the placenta.”

At the newborn’s lusty cry Brown exulted, “It’s a girl!” Passengers and crew cheered. “We tied off the umbilical cord with the clamp and a shoelace from a male passenger, wrapped the baby in towels and pillowcases, and radioed London for an ambulance to take them to a hospital. But not before immigration officers boarded to ask why the passenger list had increased by one. Questions about the baby’s citizenship were settled by her having been born aloft. She was declared an international citizen.”

The high point of a London-bound jet out of Frankfurt was considerably less jubilant. “The pilot on this trip was a curmudgeonly senior who regarded air hostesses with a patronizing eye. He considered us ‘flighty’,” Brown punned.

“We were strapped in for takeoff, rolling down the runway, when the alarm bells jangled. The captain braked and attempted to abort takeoff, but we were already airborne over a muddy ditch. The command came to unbuckle seat belts and go to the nearest exits. Two chutes were dangling in midair. People who went down in two other chutes landed knee-deep in mud. Miraculously, there were no injuries - just an hours-of-investigation aftermath, during which we were fed candy bars. It was a humbling experience for the captain, who later thanked us because, he said, we made him look good.”

These days Brown is happily grounded with her husband, John - their 1970s courtship began (where else?) on a flight from London to New York - and her lively, petite mother. Both share her enthusiasm for St. Nicholas School, where Brown is health coordinator and facilitator of Scriptures study. The couple have three daughters and two grandchildren.