The fallout over the brutal removal of a United Airlines passenger from a plane at Chicago’s O’Hare airport has stretched out longer than it should. Part of the reason is that the passenger has yet to give interviews, so there is still a gnawing curiosity about what he has to say about what happened. Also part of the lifespan of this incident has to do with United’s CEO and his ham-handed public statements and do-overs. If he had apologized quickly and sincerely the first time, the anger might have ebbed by now.
But also, the incident has had a sustained impact because of the shared ordeal of air travel. Even passengers on a five-hour jaunt from Honolulu to the West Coast develop a kind of foxhole friendship, bonding over bad service, scary turbulence, impolite seat-mates and cramped conditions. There was the one victim in that video clip, but clearly everyone on that United flight was affected, and to some extent traumatized, by being on the plane when it happened. By extension, anyone who has suffered an insufferable flight could instantly understand the fear of being stuck in that claustrophobic plane, tethered down to a small seat and being made to witness unprovoked brutality against a fellow traveler. We like to think of that happening only in evil dictatorships and violent military states, but here it was, middle of America, middle of the day, on a passenger airline.
It’s hard to imagine that ever happening on Hawaiian Airlines or any of the smaller interisland companies. Not that Hawaiian is perfect, for nothing in this world truly is. But even now, in the days of hard-backed seats, baggage fees and long lines around glitchy check-in kiosks, there is a sense of a social compact between Hawaiian Airlines and its local customers. It’s like they know they need us — and they do, for we are their bread and butter no matter what’s going on with the visitor industry.
Hawaiian has never had the reputation of treating tourists better than local customers, or treating rich people like they owned the plane and coach passengers as though they’re lucky to be allowed onboard at all. On any given Hawaiian flight crew, there’s often someone you know — the mom of the kid you coached in Little League is the purser; the gate agent plays music on the weekend with your cousin; you look out the window and spot someone from the surf lineup loading bags. For the most part, passengers don’t see the crew as disconnected waitstaff, and the crew doesn’t look at passengers as mouthy cargo.
In Hawaii, there’s a sense of connection, of a symbiotic relationship between the people who chose careers at the local airlines — big and small — and the people who pay for their service. Not perfect, of course, because no relationship ever is, but in a state that sells itself as warmer and friendlier than all the others, our local airlines do a pretty good job in living up to the marketing, especially compared with the horror stories that have surfaced this week.
Reach Lee Cataluna at 529-4315 or lcataluna@staradvertiser.com.
