There's no place like home, there's no...

Darkness.  The sweet, chocolaty blackness of my dreams surrounds and soothes me like a warm blanket on a crisp winter morning.  Cutting through the haze of comfort, a bell chimes.  It's slow and soft at first but with every ting, louder and faster than the previous, the silkiness of the moment becomes agitated and begins to drift....

My eyes open.  Where am I? I think to myself while searching the darkened room in an effort to survey my surroundings.  Am I in Seattle?  Mexico?  Miami?  The last of the blackness fades and I discover myself laying in a twin bed.  It's Atlanta, the room I've rented for use when I can't get home to St Louis or have to come to work a day early.  It sure beats spending money on a hotel room.  Do I have a trip today, I think to myself as my attention is once again drawn to the loud chimes in the room.  It's not my alarm.  It's a phone call.  Oh, I'm on call.

"Hello?" I strain into the phone trying to feign alertness.  It clearly hasn't worked.  I can hear confusion in my own voice. The woman on the other end relays the bad news.

"Mr. Boyes.  There is a trip on your schedule," she informs me and drones on about details that almost put me back to sleep.  They've had an equipment substitution.  A MD88 broke somewhere and they are using a spare 737 and reserve crew to cover it.

I'm not flying to any exotic location today. I'm not crossing the majestic Rocky Mountains nor am I going to fly into the deep blues of the Caribbean. Birmingham, Alabama.  Today, I get to be the 'Bama shuttle, the 30 minute wonder.  Well, the 30 minute wonder times 4.  I get to do the Atlanta to Birmingham round-trip, twice. And, today, that is fine with me.  It's the last day of 6 on call. I just want to go home.

****

"Climb checklist," the captain announces as we both reach to flip switches and press buttons.  

"Climb checklist.  Altimeters:" I call out awaiting his response.

"Standard, cross-check."   He says, pointing at all three altitude measuring devices in the airplane. 

"Climb checklist, complete."  I say putting the checklist away and, in a single motion, grabbing my coffee and bringing it to my lips. It's leg 3 and we are on our way back to Birmingham for the second time.  The cruise portion of the flight is short, but long enough for me to reflect on how smooth everything has been.  I look down to check my watch.  Even with the long line in Atlanta on the first flight, I could still make my commute flight home.  No granola bars or overpriced airport food or cold leftovers for dinner tonight!  I am looking forward to a hot, home-cooked meal with my wife.

A short 15 minutes later, we are bouncing through the clouds getting vectors for landing.  I can't but help but notice the weather has appreciably worsened compared to the first trip of the day.  A tropical storm is making landfall on the Louisiana/Texas border but its squid-like rain bands haven't made it all the way out to central Alabama.  At least, they hadn't as of almost two hours ago.

It's quiet on the radio.  The voice of the controller cuts through the silence infrequently and only to give us instructions.  It appears as if, at least for the moment, we are alone out here.  Birmingham approach frequency is the yin to Atlanta's yang. "Cleared for the approach and contact tower," the controller tells us.  I repeat it back and am reaching to change the radio's frequency when she interrupts the silence again. "Oh and before you go..."

Usually statements like that are innocuous.  Usually it's followed by some kind of advisory to let us know it's bumpy ahead or previous airplanes have reported wind shifts, or even asking for how flight conditions are at our present altitude.  But this is "Go Home Day."  It's the pilot's version of break a leg.  A good pilot never says, "hey guys, it's go home day!  It's been a smooth trip and this will be more of the same!  Maybe we'll get in early."  Many pilots even hesitate to think about it being Go Home Day until they're are sitting on their front porch having a beer.  If you do, you risk summoning the Go Home Gremlins and they are vindictive little bastards.  Some of the weirdest things that have ever happened to delay me have happened on Go Home Day.    And it's not just me.  One particular pilot has made a comedic video about a day in the life of pilots.  Fast-forward to the 3:00 mark for the example of Go Home Leg.

I'm not sure what the Captain or I did to summon the Go Home Gremlins, but they showed up nonetheless.  "Oh and before you go, multiple tornadoes have been reported west of the airport.  Have a good day."  I didn't immediately respond.  Did I hear her correctly?  

"Um, roger...did you say tornadoes?"  I ask looking over at the Captain.  "Did she tornadoes?"

"That's affirmative.  Storm spotters have spotted tornadoes about 10 miles west of the airport."  She repeats almost annoyed that I bothered to clarify her previous statement.  We are 5 miles east of Birmingham flying west at 160 mph.  That's nearly 3 miles every minute.  Quick mental math puts us 4-5 minutes from them.  It's even closer if they are moving our direction. 

"Alright, well, could you at least tell us what direction they are moving?" I ask her trying to help the Captain figure out if we just need to get the hell out of here.  She replies back that they are moving to the north, away from the airport.  I look to the Captain, and in an agitated tone say to him, "Christ, I'm glad they waited until we were almost on top of them to let us know.  Thanks for the 'heads-up'."    

Just as I finish my thought, we break out of the clouds and survey the airport.  The surface is clear.  There are some low clouds off to the north and a rain shield west of the airport obscuring the normally-visible downtown buildings.  One last peek at the on-board radar shows nothing of serious concern within 10 miles, so we make the decision to land and do so uneventfully.

After a brief wait for the ramp personnel to come park us, we arrive at the gate and I pull out my cell phone to check the radar.  I immediately see the cell to the west and, as described, it is moving to the north and away from the airport.  In fact, most of the severe weather is west of the city, moving north.  Slightly relieved, I look over to the Captain and show him my radar.  He takes a quick glance and in stands up to greet the disembarking passengers, "Well, let's board up and get out of here.  I don't want to be here when those things move this way."  

Quickly, we both work through our duties to configure the airplane for the return trip to Atlanta.  Unlike the more relaxed demeanor we both displayed before the previous 3 legs, this time, it was all mostly done in silence.  We finished our tasks and all that was left was to finish boarding the airplane. There was palpable tension throughout the airplane but everyone pretended to ignore it.    

The flight attendants, who were just starting their day on this particular leg, told us they were in the gate area when a tornado announcement was made before we landed.  They were informed that they were not currently going to the shelter but where to go if they had to shelter.  As people boarded, everyone tried to make small talk and treat this as every other normal flight but, deep down, I could feel the nerves and prying eyes as more people than usual looked into the cockpit.  Who are these guys?  Will we be safe?  

One of the questions I get the most is, "have you ever been afraid in an airplane."  Of course, the answer is always "no."  At no point in my career have I been afraid for my life, which I know is the question they are asking.  I've been afraid of getting lost when I was a brand new private pilot.  I've been afraid of students flying solo for their first time as instructor.  And I've been afraid of not passing check-rides as an airline pilot.  Not once, however, have I ever been afraid that I wouldn't make it through the day.  Today, was no different, but for the first time, I felt a new kind of anxiety and it happened right after the boarding door closed.  

The gate agent handed us our paperwork, gave us the obligatory "have a good flight," and left to close the boarding door.  I pulled out my cell phone one last time to check the radar.  A new purple box had formed southwest of Birmingham and was pointed right at the city.  I clicked on the box and read it to the Captain.  "A tornado warning has been issued for Jefferson County.  A tornado producing storm was located..."  

"Where is it?" the Captain asks, interrupting me.  I tell him it looked like it is about 10-20 miles south of us and moving towards us at 30mph.  "Alright, well, we will be long gone before it gets here," he says less confidently than he has all day.

I feel my heart rate increase.  I just wanted to get in the air.  Once airborne, we would be fine. Tornadoes and their associated systems are small.  At between 375 and 490 mph (our climb and cruising speeds), it's easy to get away and around them.  While we are on the ground, there isn't anything we can do.  If we don't get out of here before the storm gets here, the airplane could be damaged requiring inspections.  More generally, I just don't want to be around when there are tornadoes.  "Alright, call for taxi" he instructs.  I more than gratefully comply.  

"Taxi to runway 24 via echo.  Just got off the phone with Atlanta.  Due to flow, the best wheels up time we could get you is 10 after the hour.  Time now, 38," ground control advises us.  Like a punctured balloon, I feel the wind rushing from my lungs.  

I look over at the Captain as he stares straight ahead, face tense.  "You've got to be shitting me," he let out in frustration.  "First they slam dunk us head first into tornadoes and now won't even fight to get us a better wheels up with more inbound?  Send a message to dispatch and then call ground to see if we can get some priority."

To: Dispatch

TORNADO WARNING SOUTH OF BHM.  WHEELS UP IN 30 MINUTES.  CALL ATL AND GET PRIORITY PLZ.

I hit send.  My next call was Birmingham ground.  "Ground.  Could you give Atlanta a call and get us some priority.  Another tornado warning just popped up south of here and we'd really like to not be here when it gets here."  There was a brief pause before they replied with a short "standby."  

The silence of the next few minutes is painful.  While I was doing as he asked, the Captain had pulled up to the runway and had been using the on-board radar to find a good path out.  The winds won't allow us to take off away from it all, so we are going to have to take off west toward the weather before turning back to the east.  And it's my leg.  I reach into my bag and grab a piece of gum, needing something to do so I could stop fidgeting.  

The radio comes alive again.  "Okay, the best I can do is 50.  Be ready to go right at that time."  Ten minutes waiting is better than 30.  It would undoubtedly be a long ten minutes though.  Once again, we return our gaze to the on-board radar as the Captain speaks up. "Okay, We'll decide for sure once we line up, but right now, let's see if we can make an immediate left turn back to the east."

As shocking as it sounds, turning toward the incoming weather really is the best course of action.  The storm is still an uncomfortably comfortable distance to the south.  Looking to the north and west, a grey curtain of rain from thunderstorms moving to the north obstructs any possible exits  We reconfigure the takeoff power to full power and wait the last few minutes until our window opens.

 I look at the clock. Three minutes to go. "Check your phone one more time for me," the Captain says.  A quick check raises my hopes. It's still south and would continue to be by the time our wheels leave the ground.

Right on schedule, tower clears us for take off. The Captain aligns us in the center of the runway and gives me control of the airplane. "Your controls. Let's go home."

I advance the throttles.  The engines, having waited patiently for this moment, let out deafening roars so loud that it can be felt deep within my chest. Beneath the roaring, the mechanical groan of the turbines resonates throughout the cabin and we begin to rumble down the two mile long concrete strip.  At 150 mph, I pull back on yoke, lifting the nose into the air.  A second later, ,we are airborne.  As I turn back back toward east and get the aircraft pointed in the direction of Atlanta, I look outside and see breaks in the clouds and blue skies beyond.  I reach up, turn the autopilot on and smile to myself.  Tornadoes.  Well played Go Home Day, well played.

Ground School

I walked out of the smaller of the two cafeterias in Delta's Global Headquarters and back to class on the 3rd floor of the training building.  Still soggy from the hour in the pool and tummy full of turkey, I made sure both my bottle of water and bottle of soda were at the ready to stave off any afternoon sleepiness.

It was Day 2 and Death By PowerPoint had commenced.  At all airlines across the country from the smallest regional operators to the largest international carriers, the first section of training is known as "Indoc" or indoctrination.  Just like at most companies, it is the most bland of administrative exercises to include setting up your benefits and meetings with supervisors and various company departments as an introduction to your "piece of the puzzle."  Aside from the occasional guest speaker, we all settled into our desks, notepad at the ready to ingest everything possible about the operations side of the airline.  

In order to get certified by the FAA to be an airline, there are specific topics that must be covered in Indoc.  They include...everything.  There are dozens of manuals that detail how the airline operates, most of them non-specific to any single airplane, and we had to go over every single chapter of every single manual in slideshow format.  

So, we sat for hours in class class going over the hundreds of chapters that comprise our "operating license" and other airline specific manuals.  The following Thursday, a mere 8 days from the first day of class, we were sent home to study on our own.

The company has to give new pilots a minimum of a week to go over the computer-based training materials specific to each airplane.  For me, with the wedding approaching, in order to fit me into the schedule and accommodate the life event, I was given almost a month.  Upon returning, there were 3 class days of review to go over anything we may not have understood from the self-study and then a test. Aside from the two hours of studying every night, I often stayed in the building late to work on "flows."

While every airplane essentially flies the same, the supporting infrastructure is vastly different.  In the 737, an aircraft designed in the 1950s, the systems logic surrounding the aircraft is very different from the ERJ, an airplane designed in the late 90s.  If all I had to do was sit down in my seat at the runway and then get out once we landed, the training course would be simple and take a few days.  It's everything else, the mundane preflight and taxi tasks that verify the proper operation of every component and system of the aircraft that takes a lot of time to memorize.

One of the nice things about working for a large, safety-minded corporation, is the money they invest in training.  There are 4 levels of training devices available for my use in preparing me before I step foot into the real jet.  The first, and most basic, is the "Paper Tiger."  In each classroom, attached to the walls are posters of the cockpit.  I had little use for this since they also sent us home a copy of those posters to use while studying.

The next step up is a sci-fi like computer trainer where most of the cockpit is on touch screen monitors oriented as if it were an actual cockpit.  This is where I spent most of my time studying.  You could touch the screen and actually see and hear what happens. This it the area where you iron out your flows.

A flow, you ask?  A flow is a pattern in which you move your hands and eyes and is different depending on the task you are completing.  For example, before landing, my left hand sweeps from the overhead to the throttles (Igniters-on, gear-down,  flaps-set, speed brake-armed).  The after starting engine flow is a circle shape (Electric-transfer, probe heat-on, anti ice-as req, air conditioning-on, APU-as req, subsystem test-complete).  Once the flow is complete, it is quickly verified by reading from the checklist in the off-chance something in the flow wasn't completely normally.

The feedback in this "Procedures Trainer" is immediate.  I spent hours practicing getting into an airplane that was completely shutdown and getting it ready for takeoff one flow at a time.  At first, you read off the manual.  Read a step, do a step, watch what happens.  After doing that once or twice, you begin to hear and see what it is like to start up an airplane's systems.  After a few tries, you start seeing a patterns and before you know it, what was taking an hour to do is now only taking 15 minutes.

The next step up is a full cockpit mock-up sitting in a room and by full-mock up, it looked like someone just sawed the front end off of a 737 and put it in a room.  You could actually "fly" this flight training device, albeit not very easily.  Unlike the Procedures Trainer, you could have a more realistic experience.  Following 6 days in these trainers, an evaluation was completed to ensure I was familiar enough with the generic day-to-day procedures to adequately move on to the simulators where I finally got to learn how the ol' girl flies.

Following two weeks in the full-motion simulators, I passed two check-rides and was ready to finally take on the task of carrying passengers.

Choosing An Aircraft

When a pilot shows up to training at a major international airline, he shows up with an open mind. It's not because of all the future adventures he's going to take, but primarily because when he arrives for his first day, he has no idea what or where he is going to fly.  It isn't until then does the company release to the new pilots which aircraft and domiciles are available.

As compared to my previous airline, instead of only having one aircraft to choose from, there were 9.

Airbus 320 Series
Airbus 330
Boeing 777
Boeing 767-400
Boeing 757
Boeing 747
Boeing 737
Boeing 717
McDonnell Douglas 88/90

With that long list of airplanes, how could I possibly choose?  Well, fortunately or unfortunately depending on your perspective, that list was shortened for me when I showed up for Day 1.  Of the airplanes on the list, the wide-body airplanes (two aisles instead of one), the ones that normally fly long international flights that cross oceans are very desirable.  Only the most senior of pilots both First Officer and Captain, fly those.  So, it was easy to cross B747, B757, B767, B777, and A330 off the list.  It is going to be 10 years until I see the inside of one of those as a pilot.  That left me with just the narrow-body aircraft to choose from.  So, let's begin!

MD-88/90


The MD-88/90 aircraft are very unique and easy to spot taxiing around an airport.  Sporting a "T-Tail" design with two large tail mounted engines and very long fuselage, the 88s dwarf their regional jet cousins.  From a passenger's perspective, it is immediately clear when you walk into the cabin that you're in an older generation aircraft.  While the seats and interiors have been completely refurbished and redesigned over the years, the aircraft features an iconic 3 by 2 seating configuration in economy and noticeably older overhead bin doors and flight attendant/over head lighting buttons.  If you have a seat behind the wing and near the engines, you'll also notice that it is a much louder airplane than the newest generation passenger aircraft.

At Delta, these aircraft are most often utilized domestically on high volume (large city to large city), short to medium length routes.  For example, the majority of flights between Nashville and Atlanta are on MD88s with a scheduled block time of just over an hour.  They occasionally also do longer large city pairings like Atlanta or Houston blocked at 2:30, or Minneapolis to Las Vegas at 3:30, but a large amount of flying is less than two hours.

From a pilot's perspective, what does this mean?  Lots of legs and long days.  A pilot, and oftentimes a junior pilot, will find himself flying 4 or 5 legs a day into and out of busy metropolitan airports. These types of days can be long and exhausting especially in the heat of summer.  It is very similar to the flying I did at the regional airlines and while it was fun when things went well, when weather fell apart or the plane had a mechanical issue, thetrips turned into 14 hours on, 10 hours off.

Why would anyone ever choose to fly that airplane?  Well, its downsides are often its upsides. Because it is such a work horse, pilots bid to fly a different airplane as soon as they can.  The relative seniority within the MD-88 starts going up rapidly before you've even left training.  Instead of being on reserve on weekends in NYC, a new pilot could hold a schedule of flying (called a line) and be off weekends within a few months of finishing training.  This undesirability also means that the MD88 is also a little short staffed.  If a pilot plays his cards right, even on first year pay, he could make more in a month than a 12-year Captain by volunteering to cover flying when there are no reserves left.

Finally, purely from a nostalgic standpoint, when you get checked out in a MD-88/90, you're really getting checked out in the Douglass Aircraft Corporation's DC-9 (DC-9-80).  The MD-88 is really just a stretch version of the 1960s era DC-9 but developed after McDonnell and Douglas merged to become one company  You are flying an airplane that was designed not long after the Korean War to usher in the jet age and signaled the beginning of the end of propeller driven commercial aircraft.  On your license is forever stamped the authorization to fly a "DC-9," an airplane from a bygone era.

B-717


At first glance, you might say, "Chris, why did you post a picture of the airplane you just did a history term paper on?  Well, fasten your seat-belts, ladies and gents, because this trip back through time rattles on.

Enter: the Boeing 717.  Following the development of the MD-88, McDonnell Douglas went back to the drawing board and tried to develop a new aircraft that would replace the aging DC-9 to become more competitive in the 100 seat market.

The MD-95 project almost didn't get off the ground.  Following Boeing's acquisition of McDonnell Douglas, the MD-95 was almost cancelled.  However, due to a solid order by AirTran Airways, they decided to continue and re-designated the airplane the B-717.  In 1999, Boeing began delivering 88 aircraft to the discount carrier who would then become the largest 717 operator in the world.

In 2010, competitor Southwest Airlines bought AirTran primarily for their strong presence in Atlanta and access to their international destinations in an effort to easily expand beyond the United States. Southwest, whose business model revolves around lowering costs by only operating one type of aircraft, the B-737, immediately began to look to off-load the 717.  Delta, fresh off a merger with Northwest Airlines, jumped at the opportunity to replace Northwest's now approaching 50 year old DC-9s as well as the overabundance of fuel-inefficient 50-seat regional jet aircraft.  They reached an agreement in 2013 to sub-lease all 88 aircraft as long as Southwest footed the bill for their $100 Million refurbishment.

To a passenger, there really isn't much difference between the MD-88 and B-717 in their exteriors.  The B-717 is a much shorter aircraft and looks stubby compared to its older brother.  The interiors look significantly newer but still feature the 3 x 2 seating.  In my opinion, it's a much quieter and much more comfortable experience compared to the MD-88.

To a pilot, the differences stop at the door.  Even though the B-717 is officially a variant of the 1964 DC-9, the cockpit is nothing like the original.  The flight instruments are fully computerized and all the old gauges and dials from the MD-90 have been replaced with a single computer screen.  It was designed as a modern airliner in the shell of its era defining old man.  The 717, however, was added to the Delta inventory to replace regional jet flying and fill the void left by the DC-9.  Consequently, its more of the 4-5 leg days like with the MD-88 only there isn't the same nostalgic appeal as there would be flying the dinosaur.

A320 Series


The A319, A320, and A321 initially conceived in the late 1980s by European conglomerate Airbus is one of the fastest growing fleets at Delta and was another game changer in the airline industry. It was the first ever "fly-by-wire" system to be developed for commercial use.  In every airplane developed before it, the flight controls (yoke and rudder) were physically connected by pulleys and cables directly to the wings and tail.  As airplanes got bigger and faster, hydraulic systems were attached, much like the power steering in a car to aid in moving the flight controls.  Still though, when the pilot moved the yoke, he was physically moving an aileron.  With a "fly-by-wire" system, the pilot uses a joystick in the cockpit to tell a computer what he wants to do.  The computer then tells the flight control computers how much to move the ailerons or rudder.  Fun fact: the Airbus is the only domestic aircraft to feature a fly-by-wire system.  Yes, all the others, including regional jets, still have pulleys and cables.

As a passenger, if you've flown domestically in the last 10 years, you've most undoubted flown on an A320 family aircraft.  They are prominently featured at every major US airline with the exception of Southwest.  It's a little harder to spot one of those flying or taxiing around but with a well trained eye, you could notice the opening of the engine inlet slopes rearward from top to bottom.  Airbus aircraft also have very distinct nose section shapes.  That's really about it.

As a pilot, this aircraft is wonderful to fly.  Aside from the complicated computer logic accompanying the revolutionary flight control system, it is a fairly easy airplane to learn and master.  The cockpit is roomy and comfortable compared to the more industrial Boeing and McDonnell Douglas aircraft. One of the greatest aspects of Airbus aircraft was in their design philosophy.  Airbus, which currently has 3 classes of aircraft, designed their cockpits to be almost identical.  The A320 (domestic narrow-body), the A330 (medium range international wide-body) and the A350 (long-range international wide-body) aircraft have very few differences in how the airplane flies and its systems operate.  A pilot could fly his entire career in an Airbus and never have to completely re-learn an aircraft.

This would be my number one choice going into training.  Unfortunately, out of the 33 of us in training, only one was available and it was chosen first.  I was 5th to pick.  Along with it being a comfortable aircraft to fly, it also flies longer legs.

B-737


My number two choice and the aircraft I ended up with is the Boeing 737.  The original 737-100, originally designed by Boeing as a short-haul aircraft with only 61 seats, was to serve "thin markets" where it was impractical to bring in larger jet aircraft of the time.  As a comparison, the smallest regional jet aircraft today seat 50.  After consultation with its only interested customer, Lufthansa, an order for 21 aircraft was placed with the stipulation that they have at least 100 seats (large regional jets have 80).  With this small order, Boeing, hoping just for a "gap-filler" aircraft, inadvertently developed the single most successful commercial aircraft of all time.  How successful you ask?  Over 9400 aircraft have been delivered since 1968 with 4400 still yet to be delivered.  In fact, there are so many 737s around the world, on average, 2000 are in the air at any given time with one taking off or landing every 2 seconds.

The 737 has changed and been re-engineered appreciably since the first 737-100 was delivered in the late 60s.  In fact, there are 4 generations of 737 aircraft, Original, Classic, NextGen, and MAX.  Check out this picture of one of the first ever built and tested by NASA.



When the 737 was first designed, engineers attached the engines directly to the underside of the wing. One thing you might notice about the NASA aircraft is how long the engine is.  This jet engine, called the low-bypass turbofan was the original jet engine of the day.  It was extremely loud and very fuel inefficient, especially at low altitudes.  What is a low-bypass turbofan?  Original jet engine technology propelled aircraft primarily using a very fast jet of hot hair exiting the jet engine.  It is very similar to the way a balloon is propelled when you let go of the opening after inflating. Unfortunately, at lower altitudes, in order to accelerate enough air to propel an aircraft, a significant quantity of fuel needed to be used.  Additionally, the interaction of the hot, high velocity air with the cold, stagnant air of the atmosphere caused significant noise.

As jet-engine technology improved, a high-bypass turbofan was created (see: below).  The main fan on the front of modern aircraft, the one that you can see spinning from your seat at the gate, is actually just a very large propeller powered by a much smaller jet engine.  This fan pushes a large quantity of cold air bypassing the engine core to meet the hot jet of air at the rear where mixes before exiting the engine.  This advancement in technology allowed for significant gains in fuel efficiency especially at low
 altitudes.  The mixing of cold and hot air at the rear of the engine (think muffler) also lead to a much more quiet engine.  



Boeing began to design upgrades to its 737 aircraft using high-bypass turbofan technology creating what would eventually be dubbed, the 737 Classic (Models -300, -400, -500).  Many of these are still being flown today by domestic carriers Southwest and Alaska.

One of the drawbacks of retrofitting the original design with new, large fan engines, was engineering around one of its key advantages, the short landing gear.  There just wasn't the ground clearance below the wing to fit the new engines without creating enough differences that the FAA would require a different set of pilots to fly the aircraft.  So, Boeing had its engine manufacturer move an accessory box from below the engine to the side, creating the unique, almost flat looking, engine.



Inside the cockpit, the Classic model changed very little.  There was still overwhelming amount of round dials almost completely devoid of computer technology.  In its next upgrade, Boeing would update most of the cockpit.

When Boeing created the Next Generation, the models you are most likely to fly on today and the model I fly (-700, -800, -900), they overhauled much of the instrumentation in the cockpit.  Almost all of the round dials for engines and navigation were replaced by computer monitors.  The overhead panel, controlling much of the supporting systems (A/C, electrical, hydraulic), wasn't changed at all. This was intentionally omitted so a pilot qualified on one generation of 737 would be qualified on all, resulting in much lower training costs for customers, specifically Southwest Airlines which operated a large quantity of 737 Classic aircraft.

In terms of pure nostalgia, this outdated overhead panel is both work intensive and also neat.  It has some of the old 1960s era technology coupled with modern avionics.  For example, on the regional jet I flew that was designed in the late 90s, almost everything was done by computers.  After starting the engines, the checklists we ran just had us verify that everything transfered as normal.  The 737, not so much.  After starting the engines on this aircraft, I do the following:  transfer power from auxiliary power unit to each individual engine, turn on center tank fuel pumps if above a certain fuel quantity, turn on external probe heaters, turn on air-conditioning, turn on engine bleed valves, turn off auxiliary bleed, set isolation valve from open to auto, turn off auxiliary power unit, run systems test to check for errors, and finally adjust and verify A/C settings.

With this history term paper coming to an end, I have to say that I am happy with the aircraft I chose.  I fly longer legs and get to go to places countries in the Caribbean and South America.  If I'm lucky, maybe one day I'll get to fly one of the trips from the West Coast to Hawaii.  It's an aircraft I see myself staying on for awhile and I can't wait for what the future holds.