And it's not one of those cheesy stories where I will go and tell you "Omg, I always wanted to do this ever since I was little!". No, it's a story of someone who found her purpose fairly late in life (compared to social standards that is, but who needs those anyway?).
If you like brief stories, I recommend you stop reading now 😉.
Picture this: it was somewhere late 1993, first class of primary school, in a quiet town in the middle of The Netherlands. One of the little childhood memories I have is our teacher asking us the question of questions at that time;
"Jo, what do you want to become when you grow up?"
- "A KNIGHT! Or a veterinarian", 4 year old Jo answered with enthausiasm.
So far for a childhood dream. I remember my classmates answering the same question with things like "mommy", "fireman", "teacher" and yes - also the occasional "pilot" flew by (ba-dumm tss). I've always been different than the rest. The outcast, the tomboy, the strange tall girl with glasses that got bullied. Always deep into encyclopedias from my father, gaining as much common knowledge I could get into my young brain and always out climbing trees and causing trouble with the boys in the neighborhood. My mother once told me that she lost track of me one day and there I sat in front of the televison, quietly watching a medical program that showed an open heart surgery in detail. By the age of 6, my teachers at school called me "The walking dictionary and encyclopedia". Enough said, right?
5 year old me, casually shaving a balloon. A typical Dutch activity for any family reuinion and a very sensible thing to do; let a 5 year old handle a razorblade.
At 12 years old, I was sent off to high school. Still fairly unclear with what profession I ever wanted to master. All I knew at that time is that I wanted to become a veterinary technician, because calculus and math clearly weren't my best subjects in school. "So far for becoming a veterinarian so lets just go for second best option" was the motto. For a brief moment I even considered following my fathers footsteps as a medic for the Dutch Army, but considering my bodily state at the age of 16 that wasn't going to happen either. When nearing my high school finals, I decided I wanted to become a nurse. A trauma nurse. In the middle of A and E action in a hospital or riding the ambulance.
Little did I know that in nursing college, the main goal is to get students enthausiastic for geriatric nursing. Like, no. Not going to happen. It's the hospital or nothing. Give me adrenaline and chaos. By the time I was 18 at least that was something I figured out; I thrive in chaos. In situations where a lot of people would lose overview, I was miraculously able to create some sort of organisation and avoid a speeding train going from running off-track. A quality I absolutely inherited from my father (next to his stubbornness, that said). After 2 years of nursing college I ditched, because all they wanted was to mould us into loving "old people" caretakers. This obviously led to slight dissapointment from my parents.
Me (14 y/o) and my old man.
There is one thing that always has been around in my life from primary school on; horses. So why not try and earn money from working with these magical creatures and get a proper degree as a veterinay technician? Knowing that it would be hard work, long days and a ridiculously low pay I still persisted in going to the "National horse-professionals"college where they offered a course for becoming an equine nurse. Luckily, due to the 2 years in "human nursing" school, they allowed me to finish the degree in 2 years in stead of the regular 4. During my time there, I learned "the horse and it's professional care" inside out (quite literally, pathology is awesome!) and to my parents relief, graduated in something.
But after "Horse School" graduation early 20's, life started to take some hard turns. Turns that, in hindsight, made me the person I am today. Never too good to take on any job to pay the bills, trying to make the most out of everything with all obstacles thrown at me. And in this stage of my life, this is where I found my spark for aviation (FINALLY, huh?!) because life decided to throw me towards aviation. Mid 20's, I took on a job at a factory which finished parts for "major aircraft manufacturers". And with this new job came a whole new interest. The one of big flying things. The machines that get the world from A to B at insane speeds and countering various technological and environmental challenges. A fun fact: never had I ever set foot in an aircraft, let alone fly in one for a distant holiday at the age of 24. And all of a sudden I wanted to know all sorts of aviation related things.
In December 2017, I eventually landed a job (HA!) at Maastricht Aachen Airport as a cargo controller. A person in the supply chain who accepts airfreight and does all sorts of checks on the documentation and physical goods. In that very office, I came to know the excistence of these people called "loadmasters" and at age 28 decided I wanted to become one. My partner at that time had the same spark and due to the nature of his work at the cargo apron (or "ramp") compared to mine, he got into loadmastering first. Fuel was added to my fire when I was hearing his stories and seeing his pictures of travel and situations around the aircraft.
Age 28, with the true Queen of the Skies in the background at Maastricht Aachen Airport.
After almost 5 years at Maastricht Aachen Airport, I decided that my next step to becoming a loadmaster would be working as a station representative for a major cargo airline as I got a job offered in Liege. That job was soon to be opening even bigger doors... "THE GOLDEN DOOR is within reach" - or so I thought when a loadmaster vacancy opened up.
A partially sunny day in Liege, with her Majesty taxiing to ramp.
"The people know my work. My professional reputation and network are very good. I have people who support me with their references. Lets give it a go, I'm ready."
- "Yeah, nope." said life.
I didn't even manage to get an interview...
Once the dissapointment settled down, another little backdoor slightly opened after seeing another loadmaster vacancy during one of those nights scrolling on Linked In while sitting on the sofa.
"Will this be it then? Am I even good enough?"
And like it was meant to be, the Chief Loadmaster for that airline was a former colleague of my partner. If there is one thing that aviation taught me at that time, is that having a solid network is key. Immediately I opened my laptop and wrote a cover letter with dropping some names here and there. The first hurdle was taken, as I got invited to a brief digital meeting with the Chief Loadmaster and after that, radio silence... On a sunny day in early September 2021 (when I almost gave up hopes, to be fair), an e-mail appeared into my inbox:
"Are you available for a live interview with me and the deputy chief LM in Liege at 16:00 this afternoon?"
Ho-lee-fuck. Panic. Excitement.
Panic because exactly that week, I had a little accident which got me on some strong painkillers that really made me high as a kite (you may laugh). And of course just before receiving that e-mail, I just took the second dose of the day which I knew was going to knock me out completely. In a sheer state of semi-high and mild internal panic I answered:
"Yes, I am available. See you this afternoon."
The good thing about having had a fairly turbulent life, is that I am used to situations changing quickly and having to adapt at a similar pace. A skill that was most useful at this very day. I quickly made myself look somewhat alive and decent and drove off to Liege where I was warmly greeted by the two men who now had my professional future in their hands. Another thing that I value in my life is honesty, so after the initial greeting I confessed:
"I'm sorry if I may seem a little off, but I had a little accident and am on very strong painkillers right now that make me a little weary."
- "No worries Jo, we also had a rough night." was their reply with two big smiles.
At that point, I knew I had nothing to lose anymore and carefully answered all the questions they fired at me. When I drove home after an hour of interviewing, I kept reviewing all answers in my head and had fingers and toes crossed that they were the right ones.
Wednesday 8 September 2021, 09:58. A notification from my e-mail onto my phone.
"It is my pleasure to offer you the position of Loadmaster Class 1."
Words that instantly sent me into a state of crying my eyes out.
I did it.
Never had I felt the joy I felt that day. The joy of fulfilling a recent dream. Something I never considered myself able to do. And here I am; about 7 months later and decided to write down the stories of situations that I experience in this turbulent life as a Boeing 747 Loadmaster. Not knowing if anyone will ever be interested in reading them, but at least they're there.
Jo.
April 2022, straight back from New York on VQ-BWL (B74M). Tired and worn, but with a big smile.
Comments
Post a Comment