More Than Just An Old 767 Might Be Museum Bound
by ANN Associate Editor Rob Finfrock
"No one person is an
airline," Delta Air Lines founder C.E. Woolman once said. "An
airline is a team. It must be friendly, couteous, cooperative,
efficient, and bound as closely as a devoted family."
Oh, how far we've come. Now under Chapter 11 bankruptcy
protection and working to reestablish itself as a profitable player
in the industry, today's Delta is a far, far larger
operation than Woolman (file photo, below right) likely ever
dreamed it would be.
It is also far more troubled.
You have to wonder if Woolman, who took pride in the
family-like atmosphere of "his" Delta above almost anything else,
would have considered it a suitable tradeoff.
It's also a far cry from the Delta of Spring, 1982, when
employees came together in a gesture that
exemplified Woolman's sense of family, of working towards a
common good. Although that was sixteen years after his death,
Woolman certainly would have appreciated the story behind "The
Spirit of Delta."
N102DA was Delta's first
B767. For 23 years, N102DA flew in a number of liveries. To
most travellers, it was probably indistinguishable from any
other 767 wearing the Delta widget. Those who recognized the
airplane's registration, however, or noticed the name on the side
of the fuselage and on plaques inside the passenger cabin, knew
that they were about to fly on "The Spirit Of Delta." Before the
days of 737s painted as whales, this particular aircraft's name was
more than just a marketing scheme.
In early 1982, having weathered the storm brought about by the
Airline Deregulation Act four years before, Delta employees were
concerned about not only their airline's future, but also with
their paychecks. Like most other carriers at the time, Delta was
struggling to adjust to the suddenly far-more-competitive
environment brought about by industry deregulation. Business was
booming, but profits were low as every domestic carrier struggled
to match the prices of the others. (Very little has
changed today, in many ways.)
The story goes that Delta's then-CEO, Dave Garrett, had earlier
promised employees an across-the-board raise. This was despite the
fact the carrier's operating budget was already severely taxed by
trying to keep up with the Joneses.
Employees were prepared to hear their promised raises would be
rescinded. Yet, Delta kept its promise, bottom line be damned.
Jaws hit the floor -- employees were shocked. They had expected the
worst.
Not long after the
raises went into effect, three flight attendants were talking
onboard an airplane, trying to figure out ways to show Delta how
much they appreciated that kept promise.
"Why don't you buy them an airplane?" one of the flight
attendants jokingly suggested. It was at that moment Project 767
was born, and with it, "The Spirit Of Delta."
Delta was already the launch customer for the 767-200, but it
had not yet received its first airplane from Boeing. The flight
attendants pitched the idea of having the employees contribute part
of their larger paychecks back to the company, to be put
towards the purchase of the first 767 slated to wear the Delta
colors.
Management agreed, on the condition the program would be
strictly voluntary. There would be no repercussions if
an employee chose not to participate. In keeping with the
"Spirit" of that arguably simpler time, nearly every Delta
employee contributed, as did Delta retirees and even some board
members. In all, they raised $30 million to buy the airplane.
"The Spirit of Delta" was born. Perhaps it would be better to
say "embodied."
The aircraft was later unveiled to employees under a large
"Project 767" banner, with a huge red bow wrapped around the
plane's fuselage. N102DA was christened "The Spirit Of Delta."
Pieces of that big red bow were later cut into strips, and issued
along with a photograph of the unveiling to the employees who had
contributed to the cause.
For the next two decades, "The Spirit Of Delta" saw regular
service as Delta's flagship. The plane was witness to both periods
of enormous growth (the acquisition of Pan Am's routes, along with
the carrier's significant 90s expansion overseas) and stifling
losses (brought on, in part, by corporate restructuring, 9/11, and
recent spikes in fuel prices.)
Although the 767 carried several color schemes -- including a
livery commemorating the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games -- "The Spirit
Of Delta" was always known as the employees' airplane. Today, it
wears the company's "Heritage" paint scheme, with proud script in
front of the wings announcing to the world this aircraft isn't
simply an aging B762, but instead, something special.
Face it. Twenty-three years is a lot of time on an airframe.
After more than two decades of service, N102DA is likely to be
put to pasture soon, one of the many older aircraft in Delta's
fleet rumored to be facing retirement in order to improve the
bottom line. There is talk she would still be recognized as part of
the Delta family, however, to be displayed in the Delta Heritage
Museum, restored to her original colors.
If she isn't sold off.
Delta is to be commended, at least, for considering
the notion of honoring the aircraft as such, instead of
selling it off. In either case, however, it is certainly ironic
that an airplane bought by grateful employees, out of sheer
appreciation for the generosity of their employer, may soon be
retired by the latest iteration of that same company which is
today, ah, not so well regarded.
As has been reported in Aero-News, today's
Delta is locked in a bitter dispute with its pilots and employees
over pay cuts and layoffs necessitated by last month's bankruptcy
filing. If you were to ask Delta pilots today,
they probably wouldn't offer current CEO Gerald Grinstein a drink
of water in the desert, much less buy him an airplane.
To be fair to Grinstein (above), who was chosen as Delta's CEO
in 2004, the problems at Delta did not begin with him. Many Delta
employees and industry observers alike believe the tide began to
turn long before then, but bottomed out with 1994's "Leadership
7.5" restructuring program. Employees accustomed to the
Woolman-esque family atmosphere, that stressed customer service
above all else, were shocked when Delta cut its workforce suddenly
and drastically in the face of declining profits brought about by
-- among other things -- an earlier recession, as well as Delta's
inability to profit from its own staggering growth.
Although the cuts helped the carrier returned to profitability
that year, Delta saw a commensurate decrease in the morale of its
workers. Some would argue the carrier has never truly recovered
from the psychological effects of Leadership 7.5, even as the
airline's fortunes continued to improve throughout the rest of the
1990s.
At least "The Spirit Of Delta" continued to fly,a reminder to
employees there was once a better time, and perhaps there would be
a better time again. More than anything else, that's why N102DA
should continue to fly during this, the most troubled time ever in
the airline's history.
Yes, the aircraft is old, but its age is not quite yet to
Northwest's AARP-esque levels. Reportedly, the airplane is already
something of a "hangar queen" and is meticulously maintained, which
of course costs money but also keeps N102DA in
better-than-airworthy condition. Perhaps most damning, though, its
80s-era engines are much less efficient than today's modern
turbofans, and burn a lot more fuel because of it. These days,
you just can't ignore the bottom line at an airline now under the
protective wing of a federal bankruptcy court.
But from the outside looking in -- admittedly a far preferable
place than the boardrooms where Delta's very future is now being
hashed out -- none of that matters.
Look at it this way:
the airline is hemorrhaging money in so many directions -- what's
another few million dollars or so to keep the company flagship in
the air, instead of gathering dust in a museum? As the
saying goes, a ship is safest in harbor... but that's not what
ships, or airplanes, are built for.
Let "The Spirit Of Delta" continue to fly throughout this
crisis, so Delta's executives may then point to N102DA in speeches
to their employees, in advertising to their customers, and in
testimony before the bankruptcy court. When the future is uncertain
and morale is on the decline, keeping N102DA in the air is an
ideal -- one the troubled company should aspire to once again.
Maybe, they might all even believe it. When Delta filed for
bankruptcy last month, Grinstein told reporters "it is the spirit
of the company that will keep this company alive." Maybe he already
understands, now more than ever, how Delta needs a symbol of its
hopes and ambitions for the future.
"Recreating The Spirit Of Delta." Doesn't that sound like a
better slogan than the current "Good Goes Around?" Perhaps
Delta should adopt this slogan -- and mindset -- before the
carrier itself is relegated to a museum.