American Dream: Part 1

By Irena Ambrozewicz Taylor

The American Dream is a memoir of my growing up in Poland under the Communist Regime, immigrating to America and enjoying the wonderful opportunities for very interesting life.
Landing in New York without any knowledge of English, first starting a job as a governess, then working for Pan Am airlines as a stewardess, traveling all over the world, meeting interesting people like the Prince of Saudi Arabia and exploring wonderful places.
Finally, falling in love and getting married in San Francisco.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499081497

Irena Ambrozewicz Taylor

Irena Taylor was born in Poland, where she studied at Poznan University. After she moved to New York, she worked for PanAm airlines where she started her “American Dream”. She has had a remarkable career in real estate and financial investment. As a retired business woman, she is immensely proud of her two successful daughters, son and four grandchildren. She is also promoter of healthy lifestyle, she loves nature, travel the world and now she lives in Hawaii.

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Copyright © 2014 by Irena Ambrozewicz Taylor.

Library of Congress Control Number:     2014918278

ISBN:     Hardcover     978-1-4990-8150-3

Softcover     978-1-4990-8151-0

eBook     978-1-4990-8149-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/16/2014

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CONTENTS

1. My Wonderful Beginning with Pan Am

2. Board of Directors Trip to Europe and Soviet Union-June 1966

3. My Family History

4. Growing Up in a Communist Country

5. Life As a New Immigrant in America

6. My First Return to Poland

7. Travels around Europe

8. The Trip around the World with My Brother

9. Adventures in the South Pacific and the Far East

10. The Trip Around the World with My Sister

11. More Adventures with Pan Am

12. Meeting the Prince

13. My Second Trip to Poland

14. Falling in Love in San Francisco

Special thanks to my daughter Tanya

for her encouragement in writting this book.

1

My Wonderful Beginning with Pan Am

January 2, 1966, was my lucky day. I woke up that Sunday morning and had breakfast—scrambled eggs, tomatoes and toast—and picked up a Sunday issue of the New York Times. Every Sunday I would scan the paper for a better job. Working at the Polish art store called Cepelia in Upper Manhattan on Fifty-seventh and Fifth Avenue, was not good enough for me. I desired something better, more exciting.

I was living in Manhattan on Thirty-fifth Street and Tenth Avenue with my brother Walter. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment on the second floor with a window facing another building. It was a dreary place. I felt stifled living there.

I could not believe my eyes. There it was, a full page advertisement in the paper. Pam Am was interviewing for stewardess positions. I was so thrilled that I immediately called my friend Nina to share the news with her. Her response was, Well, I don’t know. That kind of job is difficult to get. I know some girls who applied for American Airlines and didn’t get the job.

Despite her hesitation I said, Oh well, I will try, determined to somehow get the job. The interview was not until Wednesday, so my mind started working on what to wear. I decided on a pretty, long-sleeved navy blue dress which I had bought at Macy’s. It was plain but classy, and it accentuated my figure. I accessorized it with a white pearl necklace and black high-heeled shoes. I tried it on and was pleased. Then I carefully hung it up for the interview.

The next day, I went to work at the Cepelia store and asked to have the day off on Wednesday. The director of the store agreed. I was so elated I couldn’t do my work properly. I was a bookkeeper and all the figures were doubling and scrambling.

I had tried to get a job with the airlines previously. In fact, I had called KLM airlines because they flew to Warsaw, Poland, and inquired as to whether they had any job openings.

The woman on the other end of the line was such an agreeable lady that after talking to me for five minutes, she said, Please come into the office tomorrow so that we can talk. So the next day I went and Walter came with me.

With Walter by my side, the manager of KLM human resources told me, I would love you to work for us, but right now we don’t have any openings for a stewardess, but you could work in the office. Can you type?

I was so eager I said, Oh yes, of course I can type. At that moment it didn’t quite register in my mind what she really meant.

OK, let me see how fast you type, she said in a friendly manner. Then she asked me to sit at the desk, behind the typewriter and type a letter. Well, I looked at the ad machine which I had never seen before and couldn’t see where to start. I asked Walter in Polish, Where is ‘a’? Where is ‘h’?

The lady looked at me with a friendly smile.

How about if you go home, practice and come back in a week? she said reassuringly.

OK, that would be great, I said.

I felt so grateful to her for giving me a second chance that I went home, rented a typewriter, and started to practice. Day after day my typing didn’t get any better, so I figured that that position was not for me.

Surely it would have been too boring sitting behind a desk all day. In seven days I called the wonderful lady and said regretfully that I didn’t think that job was for me.

So when the opportunity showed up to be a stewardess on Pan Am, I couldn’t pass it up. I was determined to get the job. I woke up early on Wednesday morning, too wound up to have breakfast, got dressed, fixed my hair, looked in the mirror, and was pleased with my appearance.

I took the subway to Upper Manhattan and hurried to the building where the interview was being held. When I opened the door I was confronted by hundreds of girls waiting in line: tall, beautiful, blonde, brunette model-types. I felt uneasy and told myself that I didn’t stand a chance.

The girls were going in and out of the room rather quickly, and I heard some of them whispering that some girls didn’t get their nails or their walk approved. Finally, it was my chance, and despite the negative thoughts in my mind, I walked in full of energy.

Hi, I said, I am so happy to be here.

Where are you from? A pleasant Pan Am representative inquired.

I am from Poland. I came to New York three years ago, I replied. Immediately she started asking me about the Communist structure, way of life, and general situation. She couldn’t get enough of my stories, and we talked and talked. I told her that I spoke Russian also. Wonderful! We will need someone like you, because we are thinking about opening new routes to Moscow, she told me, forgetting that there were more girls waiting until she finally glanced at her watch. Oh, what time is it?

Somehow it felt that was more than the interview for a job; it felt as if it was a friendly conversation. Right away she declared, Welcome to Pan Am. You have a job. We will send you a letter with the information about training.

Oh, thank you so much! I exclaimed. I felt so overjoyed that a Polish immigrant like me could finally have the opportunity to realize my American Dream as a stewardess for Pan Am airlines.

The first thing I did was run home and tell my brother Walter that I got the job. He was shocked and said, You know already?

Yes, I said proudly.

The next day I went to work at Cepelia and couldn’t tell anyone about my new job. I needed to get the confirmation in the mail first. After few days I got the letter. It confirmed my acceptance on Pan Am and contained the information about the trip to Miami, Florida for the six-week training. It was so overwhelming and exciting, I thought. I felt exhilarated! I was only twenty-three years old.

I had a very short time to get ready. The next day I said to the director of Cepelia, I am very sorry for such short notice, but I need to quit. I had no idea that I would get a job with Pan Am. He was sad that I was leaving as I was not easy to replace; it was hard to find someone who spoke Polish, could do bookkeeping, and work as a salesperson and model, but nothing he could say would make any difference.

Walter also worked at the store, so he would keep everyone informed about my travels. I went in to work for two more days to close the books.

What an exciting transition, so much to look forward to, I thought. Everything was new and there were so many unknowns. We had to report at JFK airport, New York, on January 12, 1966. I took a bus to get to the airport and met thirty girls at the briefing; out of the hundreds of girls being interviewed only thirty of them had been chosen.

At the briefing we met everyone and were given the information of where to report in Miami. The flight was uneventful. After dinner we were so tired from the excitement, we all fell asleep.

Before landing in Miami I peered out the window and admired the beautiful white sandy beaches and palm trees. Wow, I thought, a whole new world.

We were met at the airport by a few vans and transported outside the city to the training school. It was like being in college with dorm rooms with two girls in each, a dining hall, and classes in lecture halls. One of them was a grooming room with long tables and makeup covering them. Another was a big kitchen where we learned to prepare meals for passengers on the plane. There was a large hangar with a mock-up plane where we had to learn all the parts of the plane as well as emergency procedures and a pool where we learned to swim and save passengers. We were given one day to get situated and the next day jumped right into the schedule.

The first day was a cooking class where we had to prepare meals for the first-class passengers from scratch. It started with big slabs of roast beef, gravy, croquette potatoes, green beans, peas, or other vegetables. While other times we cooked fish, chicken, and steaks. The roast beef had to be cooked to perfection. It needed to be rare as a whole, and then we could find medium and well-done pieces.

Most girls had difficulty with getting the roast beef done rare. It came out either medium or well-done, so they had to try over and over again. Surprisingly, I was the example for achieving the best-cooked roast beef. I got the idea that it would be better to undercook the beef and cover it with the cloth and let it stand for a while until it cooked a little more and ended up perfect.

Cooking for the economy class was much easier. The meals came in big trays, already precooked. All we had to do was to warm them up in the galley oven. It was, however, a trick not to keep them in the warmer for too long, as they became overcooked. The green beans could not look brown. We were graded on all the cooking and were under observation all the time.

Grooming class was really fun. We were evaluated and were given several different types of makeup to try. We had to learn how to cleanse our face, apply proper color of foundation, eye color, mascara, rouge, and lipstick.

Then the haircut, it was a disaster. We all had to have our hair cut to Pan Am regulations, which was short and couldn’t be below the jawline. I was chosen for the pixie cut. Prior to the training my hair was shoulder length and blonde with a few curls at the bottom, so I could tease them up or roll them up in a bun with little bangs. I loved it. After the cut I thought I looked terrible. However, I didn’t have much choice so I quickly learned to live with it.

Soon, it was time to be measured for the uniform. We were all weighed, recorded, and told to lose weight if you were over the specified limit. Thankfully I never had a weight problem. That was not my worry. I was always 5'3" and 110 pounds since I was thirteen years old. Perfect, according to Pan Am. The uniform was grayish blue with a fitted skirt, white blouse with short sleeves, jacket with three-fourth long sleeves, six buttons in front, and a smock. We were also given a girdle, nylon stockings, two-inch pointed heels, white gloves, and pillbox hats with the Pan Am logo on it.

We had to put our makeup on, dress up, and learn to walk properly. Actually it took a few days to practice how to walk. We were constantly observed and all got written reports on our walk.

The hardest part of all was the class in the hangar where there was a mock-up plane. We had to learn so much information including: parts of the plane, names, location, use, and all emergency landing procedures, with new names I never heard before, like bulkhead and aft. It was very hard for me. I was just learning to use a new language where simple conversation was a challenge and here I had to learn a new language again in just about one week.

At the end of the training school we had to pass an exam in order to graduate. It was here that some of the girls dropped out. I was so determined to pass the exam that I studied every minute I had free time. I didn’t know what the words meant, so I just memorized them. Some girls went out for the weekends, which we had free. We trained eight hours a day, five days a week. I just studied. Of the thirty girls that started, only twenty-three graduated.

One day as I was walking in the hallway, someone called my name in Polish, Irena! I turned around and a girl came up to me and spoke Polish. I couldn’t believe my ears. Her name was Janina Zyla; she was one week ahead of me. I was so happy. Someone had told her that there was another Polish girl in school. We talked and talked and talked.

We became good friends for life. Every spare minute we had we were together. She helped me to study emergency procedures. Her English was very good. In fact, she spoke six different languages; Polish was only one of them. I got to know her family background; she was Polish, but had never lived or even been there. Her mother and father were both Polish. Her father had been killed in the Second World War. After which her mother moved to Lebanon and eventually married a Lebanese man. Janina was very pretty, my height—5'3, petite, brown hair, and big brown eyes. She assured me, Don’t worry about the exam. The questions are multiple choice. You will do fine." A week later she graduated and left. I felt lonely after she left, so I put all of my energy into my studies.

The pool training was also challenging. We all had to swim to be able to graduate. My swimming was similar to a frog; I could barely hold my head above the water. How could I save someone? I was very stressed out about the swim test. To my luck the day when we were to have the test, it was pouring rain and the test was postponed. Thankfully, the trainers forgot and it never happened.

A few days later was the final written test. It was an absolute nightmare for me. I was so anxious. The papers were passed out and there were two hundred questions. Just to read through them was difficult enough for me. So I just had to concentrate and not panic. It was a multiple choice just like my friend Janina told me. One by one, somehow I answered all of them using elimination process. Memorization helped me, but I was still the last one to leave the room.

After the exam we had two days off, but it was kind of an uneventful time as we were all waiting for the results of the test. Finally the results came out and the news was: We all passed! Wow! What a relief!

February 25, 1966, was graduation day. We all got ready, put makeup on, and dressed up in our uniforms for a class picture. On that day I received a graduation certificate stating that Irena Ambrozewicz had completed the courses in Human Relations, International Passenger Service, and Clipper Cuisine required to perform the duties of flight stewardess. Signed: Flight Service Trainer: Bonnie MacLean and Director of Training: John Ogilire.

The next day we returned to New York. Again, the flight was uneventful, and we all slept. After our arrival in New York, I took the bus home. The city looked kind of gloomy and cold. My brother Walter was at work, so I was home alone.

After a few days I got my first flight-training assignment. It was to Caracas, Venezuela. Fantastic! I was so excited. I had to report to the briefing room in two days, two hours before the flight time. We were assigned our working positions. I was so lucky to get first class—working in a galley. I got the trainee badge and was watched and judged by the Pan Am representative. The written report would be sent to the higher office. The plane was full, but we had only sixteen passengers in first class. When on board we had to change our shoes from heels into black flats and wear our blue smocks. My roast beef came out perfect. I got thank you remarks from the passengers. For desert we had cherries jubilee. In other words the flight was terrific.

Arriving in Caracas was breathtaking. The city was located by the ocean with beautiful mountains all around. We were driven in a van to the InterContinental Hotel, which was owned by Pan Am. A Pan Am representative gave us all per diem—an amount of money for meals when we were abroad on the ground. The crew got together for the evening meal, including the captain, first officer, engineer, and navigator. It was an absolutely beautiful place. The five-star hotel was located right by the water, a white sandy beach with palm trees all around. The restaurant was only a few steps away from the beach. Tables under the straw umbrellas were spread out all over. It was very Polynesian, the decor and the beautiful music in the background. On the backside of the hotel there were huge mountains reaching for the sky. Gentle breezes caressed your body. Paradise, I thought, I have never seen anything like it. I could live here forever.

I couldn’t have asked for a better first trip. I had a good feeling about Pan Am. The crew ordered lobster for dinner, but I played it safe and ordered fish. I had never tasted lobster in my life before. The captain was so nice to me. I was the only trainee on the flight. He told me I had a lot to look forward to. It was like a dream to me, the place, the music, the dancing, and wonderful people. It was so romantic and calming. We didn’t stay up too late as the next day we had to fly back to New York; we all retired early to our rooms. The rooms were luxurious and big: two double beds, dresser with mirror, night tables with lamps, desk, a huge window facing the ocean, and a big bathroom with a shower and a tub. Two girls shared each room; it was a long day.

The next day the telephone rang early in the morning with a wakeup call. We ordered room service for breakfast: fresh fruit—papaya, pineapple, bananas, sweet rolls, and coffee. Fresh and delicious! The crew met in the lobby and was driven to the airport. I felt very sad leaving such a romantic place, but it was just the beginning of a wonderful journey filled with discovery and unforgettable memories.

My first flight left such a big impression on me that I will never forget it. For some reason I never went back to that place again. I don’t know if Pan Am changed the routes or perhaps I was just focused on seeing new places.

Every month we would get a schedule with flights for the month and we had to bid for the trips of our choice, from one to four. We were awarded trips of our choice based on seniority. Usually the trips would average five to seven days, and because Pan Am flew only overseas, we had to always be prepared to be away from home for a long time.

Our job was considered to be risky and dangerous. We were well trained to carry out that type of responsibility, so we were rewarded handsomely. Our pay was equal to an attorney, engineer, or a doctor working on the ground. The standard pay was for eighty hours’ flying time a month and anything over that was time and half, plus per diem pay on the ground when we were away from home. Lots of time the girls would bid long trips in order to make extra money. We were making lots and lots of money.

At Pan Am we were considered the cream of the crop in our profession. We had to look glamorous and radiate poise, personality, charm, and intelligence. We also had to be the perfect height from 5'2 to 5'8, never to be overweight, and speak at least one other foreign language. On trips we had to know how to handle foreign dignitaries, diplomats, movie stars, nobility, and important businessmen. We had to treat passengers with respect and make every individual feel special no matter how much they had to drink.

Wow! I had so much to look forward too. I couldn’t wait for my next adventure and new experience. Every moment was exciting. After my first training flight, I received a wonderful write-up from the Pan Am representative who was watching me. My roast beef was perfect, the vegetables were beautifully green, and my charm was overflowing.

Next, I had to bid for my April trip. My first choice was New York-London with a two-day layover in London, two days in Berlin, back to London, and return to New York. I easily got my first choice as most of the flights went to London first. As usual we reported at the airport two hours before the flight. I left home early to give myself plenty of time to beat the traffic in Manhattan.

At the briefing I was assigned to work in the aft cabin. I was still a trainee wearing a trainee badge and was watched and judged, but at this point I wasn’t worried. I was confident. I figured if I can cook a perfect roast beef for the first-class passengers I can definitely serve drinks and trays with prepared food in economy class. I was positive and in high spirits.

The plane was full; it was a Boeing 707 with three seats on other side of the aisle. After the plane reached a safe altitude of thirty-eight thousand feet, Ulla, the purser and I, passed the cart with drinks offering juice, soda, wine, vodka, scotch, and anything they wanted. Passengers had a ball; some of them had too much to drink but they were very pleasant. Later on we served the food we had warmed in the galley. It was mostly chicken with gravy, green beans (if you didn’t overcook them) and potatoes or rice.

The bar was open through the whole flight. The passengers continued to order more drinks. After a few hours we served sandwiches wrapped and placed on small trays which were located in carts stored in the galley. All the food was prepared by the French Company Maxim’s, so it was perfectly cooked and delicious. The crew would eat their meals in their spare time sitting on jump seats. I passed another leg of the flight without any mishaps and got another great write-up.

We landed in London/Heathrow which was a huge airport. We were picked up by a limousine and transported to the hotel, which was located right across from a beautiful park. It was older in style with antique furniture and an air of importance. The people spoke with such intellectual-sounding accents that I instantly felt at home with the culture. Pleased that I had successfully completed another watch and exhausted after the eight-hour flight, I closed my eyes.

The next morning we had a traditional English breakfast—bacon and eggs and white toast with marmalade. The morning was sunny, unlike what I had expected as dreary British weather. People were walking in the park trying to soak up a rare bit of sun but still ready with the umbrellas. My roommate and I couldn’t wait to go and explore. We took a taxi to the center of the city, Piccadilly Square, to see the palace and the museum. London was beautiful with grand architecture and bustling squares. The crown jewels were one of a kind. The palace however was dusty and cold, and the tradition of the princesses’ heads being chopped off dampened our mood.

Let’s go shopping, we decided. Just walking around the streets and looking at all the boutiques lifted our mood again. We had both just started working so we couldn’t afford to do a lot of shopping, so we chose to save our money for the boutiques in Paris. It was past lunch, so we stopped in a small cafe and had English tea and cookies.

It was early to go back to the hotel, so we decided to visit the theater and see a play. It was not far to where we found the most beautiful theater I have ever seen. It was small and cozy, and the walls were covered with exquisite paintings in the style of Michelangelo. It had crystal chandeliers, and the balconies were curved with carvings of statues everywhere. It made me feel like I was in a palace. I almost lost myself staring at the surroundings and from time to time lost track of what the play was about.

The play was wonderful. We were convinced it had been the best choice. It was getting dark, and was time to return to the hotel. Once at the hotel we found the rest of our crew seated at the bar having a beer. Come on over and join us, the captain said. So we joined them, telling them all about our adventures. Next time when you have more time you must visit the British museum in more detail. It is amazing, and you must go to Harrods for shopping, it has beautiful clothes, the captain said.

Yes, we will, we agreed.

Would you like a beer? the captain asked.

I think I will have a soda. I don’t drink, I said. It was wonderful getting to know the crew. The captain was a tall, distinguished-looking man in his late forties. He was married with two children and lived in Long Island. He had flown for eighteen years and had been based in New York for ten years. The first officer was thirty-eight years old, married with one child, and lived in Brooklyn. The engineer was thirty-four years old, tall and handsome, single, and lived in Manhattan. If you ever need a ride home I will be most happy to drive you, the engineer suggested.

Thank you so much, but I have someone to pick me up, I lied. At that time I was not interested in getting involved as I wanted to be free to meet different people around the world.

Well, then we must retire. It is getting late and tomorrow will be another long day, the captain said cheerfully. So we all went upstairs, and the next day we were off to Berlin.

The flight to Berlin was short and uneventful. Everything went perfectly. We didn’t have much extra time since it was only a short overnight stay, so we had to carefully choose what we wanted to do. Let’s go window shopping, I said. It was incredible to see how prosperous West Berlin had become. Twenty-one years after the Second World War, American businessmen were pouring money into Berlin to rebuild the city. Germany had prospered economically to the level of the United States. We were so impressed at the signs of wealth throughout the city.

My roommate and I ended up at a huge department store, bigger than Macy’s. It was magnificent, modern, colorful, and full of merchandise that we could have spent days just looking around.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, we stopped at an outside cafe to try German pastries and tea. I ordered an apple strudel that was delicious. We lingered and enjoyed the atmosphere until it was time to go back to the hotel and rest for the morning flight back to London.

The next morning we flew back to London. The flight was short and uneventful.

The following morning, April 5, 1966, we boarded the flight No. 1 from London back to JFK.

I was assigned to work in the first-class cabin and was still wearing my trainee badge with my name next to it. The flight was full, but there were only twenty passengers in first class. Everything went well: the food was loaded on time, the fruit basket was in place, Russian caviar was served, cheese tray nicely arranged, ice cream was in the freezer, and cans of cherries stored for dessert. Perfect!

As I passed through the cabin, a gentlemen stopped me and asked, Are you Polish?

Yes, I said.

So am I, he replied looking at me with intense dark eyes. I started speaking Polish to him and he said, Well, my Polish is not that good. His name was Michael Sendzimir and he owned a company with offices in London, France, Japan, and the United States of America. He immediately told me how he left Poland when he was a little boy, lived in London, and then moved to the United States of America. He was interested in learning about the Polish lifestyle, the Communist regime, and the general situation. I couldn’t tell him enough.

I was so happy to share my story with him. I told him about how much my father disliked the Communist regime, how badly he wanted to come to the United States of America, and how tortured he was by the Russians in the war. So when we got the news about getting a visa to go to the United States of America, he sold all of his estate for $1,000 and didn’t look back. We just left with small overnight suitcases in hand.

After a while I learned that Michael’s family lived in the same region as my parents. What a small world.

Despite my reluctance to leave the conversation I had to perform my duties: serve drinks, then dinner, as I was still judged as a trainee. All the passengers were content, so I was able to talk more with Michael.

He had such a wonderful flight that after the return home he wrote a flattering thank you letter to the president of Pan Am, Mr. Juan Trippe mentioning me by name.

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Needless to say that was the end of my trainee period. Instead of being watched for two months, I got the clearance letter as being well qualified to be a Pan Am stewardess after only a few flights.

My next trip was to Paris. On my way to the briefing room at the JFK airport I couldn’t believe my eyes. My dearest friend whom I met at the training school, Janina, was sitting there in the entryway. Oh my gosh! I said. Janina, I am so happy to see you.

Me too, she said as we hugged. See, I told you that you would pass the exam. Tears almost ran from my eyes. It was such a happy coincidence for the two of us to meet again in New York and work on the same flight to Paris. Janina spoke French fluently and she loved trips to Paris. She said, I will show you around. It is beautiful.

We worked together in the aft cabin, serving drinks and passing the trays with food. First we passed the trays with fruit cups and desserts, silverware, salt and pepper, salad bowl, and a coffee cup. When the meals were cooked in the galley oven and dished out on the plates, we passed them out starting from the rear of the cabin.

It was an evening flight, so after dinner many of the passengers went to sleep. Janina and I took a break, sat in jump seats with our dinner trays and talked some more. She told me that she had settled in a Manhattan apartment with another stewardess on the Upper West Side. You have to visit me. We are near each other. I am living with my brother Walter and I’d like you to meet him, I went on and on. She promised she would visit and later on she did.

Janina was fluent in many languages. She had a sister living in Italy. That was how she learned to speak Italian, while another sister lived in Beirut with her mom and dad. We spoke Polish and I couldn’t believe how well she spoke without an accent.