It's Time: Saying goodbye to a 29-year career
- terry4066
- Mar 1
- 8 min read
In 2011, I closed my 25-year massage practice.
In 2019, I retired from active ministry after serving four ministries for over 30 years.
And, on 16 February 2026, I flew my last trip as a professional flight attendant.
As of today, 1 March 2026, I have officially retired from American Airlines, nearly 29 years after I started flying in May of 1997 at age 47 for Kiwi International Airlines, shortly followed by AirTran Airways.
Three of my long-term careers are over.
If one takes my job history in a linear timeline, I’d be close to 140.
People told me I couldn’t have it all.
I did…
… and I still am.
It took me 44 years to realize my dream of flying for a living. I decided it at age four.
Mom and I left Santa Barbara, California, in 1959, bound for Los Angeles, where we caught a United flight to Chicago. From there, we flew on TWA to Dayton, Ohio. My mother would tell the story of how the actor Tom Ewell was on our plane into Chicago and carried me across the field to our third plane so we wouldn’t miss the connection.
Yes, my precious younger readers… people really did run across the tarmac to make a plane, then run up the portable stairs to board.
TSA really wasn’t a thing back then.
(Side note: My mother loves to tell that story, since a sleepy little Terry wagged his finger in Mr. Ewell’s face and said, “I don’t trust you.” Sigh… looking back at his pictures now, I’d tend to differ.)
But I digress. It was on the last flight that I fell in love with the TWA stewardess, as flight attendants were called back then. I woke up shortly before landing, and she brought me a donut with chocolate icing and a glass of orange juice.
“Here you go, young man. You were asleep when we served breakfast, and I saved this for you.”
(For the senior flight attendants, remember when we did a full service on a short flight like that?!?)
I thanked her and turned toward my mother.
“She saved this. For ME!” I cried loudly, probably louder than I needed to, to appropriately indicate how utterly impressed I was. (Seriously? You’re surprised, why?) “Mommy… I wanna be just like her when I grow up!”
Mom didn’t tell me that men didn’t become stewardesses back then. We’d have to wait until a guy sued Southwest Airlines before that right existed in the U.S.A. At the time, the “Luv Airline,” as it was known then, chose any young, white women with big tits, bigger hair (Hey, in the south, the higher the hair, the closer you are to Jeeeee-sus…), and long legs in shorts that would embarrass even the ladies at Hooters.
American Airlines, however, was ahead of the game. American bought Trans Caribbean before that and suddenly had a whole lot of male stewards. Trans Caribbean had ALL males working their flights. Not to be outdone, back in the day, when corporations at least tried to look like they cared, American hired the first five African American flight attendants and, later, the first African American First Officer. I got to fly with one of those flight attendants, Miss Bertha. She was an amazing story in her own right. But, corporate dissing aside, it was still a monumental feat in its day and one that opened the door for so many great flight attendants and pilots who would never have had the opportunity for a career in aviation.
Before the lawsuit that permitted men to apply as flight attendants, the Purser at American, the flight attendant who oversees the cabin crew, was referred to as the “First Lady.” During my training with AA in 2000, I met the first male “First Lady,” a portly gentleman who once flew the LA-Honolulu route, a man with whom I wish I’d had the chance to fly. That’s why "Purser," a more gender-nonconforming term, came into use for us.
So, yes, in case you’re curious, I’ve kept track of all the time I spent flying.
As of my retirement date, I worked over 9.6 million miles. Which, by the way, is nothing compared to the senior flight attendants I know, who have been flying twice as long or more.
I’ve spent 21,428 hours in a plane, sitting on the ground for takeoff, flying, (returning to the gate for an aborted takeoff, or flying in circles after an aborted landing), and finally waiting for a jetbridge because we were early and our gate was occupied, or the ground employees went home before we got there. (Uh… no… I’m NOT making that up.) It also doesn’t count the unpaid time spent waiting for maintenance to fix whatever was wrong, or apologizing profusely to passengers with special needs whose wheelchairs or aisle chairs to take them off the plane were unavailable.
I’d like to think that I made at least a small difference in the lives of the passengers I served. I’ve met famous people: Patti LaBelle, Lily Tomlin, Joan Rivers, Mr. T., Herb Albert, Whitney Houston, Nancy Pelosi, Gloria Allred, Maxine Waters, Anderson Cooper, Mario Lopez, Marlo Thomas, and so many more. Each of them was gracious, and all but one was kind. (And, no, I won’t say who it was.) I don’t have even one autograph, but I have wonderful memories. (I do have a picture of Miss LaBelle and me, but only because she insisted.)
You just don’t deny Miss LaBelle anything, ya know?
Among my favorite memories is the stranger who hugged me on my way to Newark on a weekend morning and wouldn’t let go. I was part of the first American Airlines cabin crew out of Newark, a 727 to Dallas, on the Saturday after the 9/11 attacks. She was crying and said how much she appreciated the flight attendants and hoped I didn’t lose anyone in the attack.
I didn’t tell her I had.
Another memory was nearly being accosted by this dude who insisted he needed a lemon for his Diet Coke. I told him we didn’t have any lemons on board. “I know they have them up front. They always have them up there.” We didn’t, and even in our business class on Air Tran Airways at the time, we only had this nasty reconstituted lemon juice. (UGH!) I just looked at him. Then, he said, “So you expect me to believe you don’t have ANY fruit on board?”
(Oh, no… you’re thinking. He dunna… Oh, yes, he did!)
Wait for it… wait for it…
I smiled and softly stated, “Other than me, no…. Now, do you want the reconstituted lemon juice or not?”
The woman at the window seat laughed so loud she sprayed her drink on the wall.
Hey—back then, we still had “Reader’s Digest” every month. I wrote up the incident, submitted the story, and got 25 bucks.
I’ve had an absolutely great 26-year run with American. I wasn’t even off my six-month probation before I was walking the picket line for a new contract. Soon after, I became the union representative for our Newark base and, eventually, the Union vice chair for our three New York airports. Less than two years ago, I walked the picket line again for the third contract before we signed our most recent agreement with the company, for which we negotiated for over five years.
I finished my undergrad while I was flying, something I’d put off for years, but decided to go back to university during my furlough after the 9/11 attacks. I’d continue earning my Master’s in Social Work after earning my Bachelor’s in Social Sciences. During my Master’s program at Temple University, I completed 900 hours of internship serving our union, the Association of Professional Flight Attendants (APFA), as an EAP (Employee Assistance Professional) representative. I fought for our flight attendants’ rights as much then as I did when I was in New York, serving on the union leadership team.
It was the flexibility of my schedule that allowed me to pursue ministry, massage work, university, and eventually counseling, all simultaneously. I carried a laptop to write my essays, and an extra carry-on bag for my textbooks. Homework made me into a “slam-clicker” on layovers. That’s the flight attendant who slams the hotel door, locks it, and doesn’t come out until pickup the next day.
It wasn’t easy.
Sometimes it seemed impossible.
But I kept my eye on the prize and achieved it all, though at a higher cost than I felt I should have to pay. I kept my different lives and careers separate, seldom allowing them to cross from one arena to another. I felt it was necessary, perhaps at the time at least. But it didn’t feel like I was being the authentic me I wanted to show the world.
And, it was feckin’ exhausting.
When I developed my new website late last year, I finally put it all together. I don’t hide who I am or what I am. Some people find parts of what I done shocking. Certain areas of my life don’t seem possible to some people, given that some parts are diametrically opposed to other parts. That can lead some people to feel I’m not sincere in one career if I pursue another that appears to conflict.
I just smile. The thing about knowing who you are and being proud to go “full-tits-boogie” into life is that one doens’t need to allow the issues others have about how one leads one’s life, particularly when what you do is of service and healing to others.
So… now what?
As my eighth decade of life began last year, I find myself in a unique position, and one that I’ve yearned for most of my life.
I have nothing left to prove.
I’m proud of who I am, warts, scars, and all.
I no longer seek to take yet another training, class, or course to be “me.” Yet at the same time, I find myself looking forward to learning so much more about life, the people around me, and showing the world who the Rev. Dr. Terry Drew Karanen, DD, PhD, MSW, aka TantraDad, really is.
My counseling practice continues, just like it has since I started it as my first business, Support Services Unlimited, in 1989. Today, it’s known as TDKM Counseling, LLC, and provides counseling, therapy, mentoring, and coaching, primarily for men, with clients worldwide, thanks to Telehealth, which became popular during the COVID pandemic.
My writing will continue, with twenty books to date in the genres of spirituality and empowerment, and, most recently, male/male romance novels. All my activities, social media, and more are on my LinkTree account, which will give you far more information than you probably want.
I’ve put together the best part of my life at American: The crews I spend hours on the plane with and enjoy more than one layover. You’ll find the link on my Instagram account. If we’ve flown together, maybe you’ll find pics of you, too!
It’s been fun.
It’s been real.
Okay, it wasn’t always fun; some of it was more “real” than I’d like to remember, including two emergency landings (both were without injury, but still!) and countless aborted takeoffs and go-arounds on landings. Medical emergencies were tense during the situation, but I saw people's lives saved or made comfortable because flight attendants did their jobs. Our annual training sessions are a pain in the butt for most of us, and I’m so glad for all those reviews, because when I needed that knowledge and practice to show up, I did.
Just like every other flight attendant will do for you who’s still out there if, one day, you need them.
Thanks for following me on one of my social media sites, as a subscriber to my Substack account, or on my website.
So yes, Virginia, you CAN have it all… usually.
The trick is knowing you can’t always have it ALL AT ONCE.
It’s kinda like being sorta pregnant.
Yeah… probably not a good look.
And so, “B’BYE!” in one sense… and hello to the next 70 years of my life!
Could you use a counselor, therapist, mentor, or coach in your life? My training includes all these modalities. If you need someone to chat with, consider reaching out to me today!
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