Julia Cooke: On the Women of Pan Am, the Electrifying and Traumatic 1960s in America, and Her Narrative Nonfiction Book, "Come Fly the World"
In a Mad-Men-era of commercial flight, Pan Am Airways attracted the kind of young woman who wanted out, and wanted up. Required to have a college degree, speak two languages, and possess the political savvy of a Foreign Service officer, a jet-age stewardess serving on iconic Pan Am between 1966 and 1975 also had to be the right height (between 5′3″ and 5′9"), the right weight (between 105 and 140 pounds), and the right age (under 26 years old at the time of hire).
In Julia Cooke’s latest book, Come Fly the World, she weaves together the real-life stories of a memorable cast of characters, from small-town girl Lynne Totten, a science major who decided life in a lab was not for her, to Hazel Bowie, one of the relatively few Black stewardesses of the era, as they embraced the liberation of their new jet-set life. Cooke brings to light the story of Pan Am stewardesses’ role in the Vietnam War, as the airline added runs from Saigon to Hong Kong for planeloads of weary young soldiers straight from the battlefields, and Operation Babylift—the dramatic evacuation of 2,000 children.
I had the pleasure of speaking with Julia via email where we discussed the powerhouse women of Pan Am, how the 1960s in America shaped us and is still being talked about and the creation of her narrative nonfiction book, Come Fly the World.
What was the initial spark that made you want to pursue this non-fiction project?
The women themselves were the initial spark. Seven years ago, I attended an event at architect Eero Saarinen’s long-shuttered TWA terminal at JFK airport—I’ve done a fair amount of art and architecture writing, and had always wanted to see it—and wound up talking to two vibrant ex-stewardesses. I found them electrifying: they seemed to have lived life elbow-deep in adventure, they talked about events of geopolitical history as if they'd had martinis with prime ministers and spies and celebrities the night before, and one of them told me she rarely bought return tickets from anywhere because, as she said, ‘you never know.’ They were so knowledgeable and open to new experiences. I began researching what became Come Fly the World to answer my immediate questions: How did these sophisticated, smart women acquire the attitudes that so impressed me, and why have they been denied credit for their very real contributions to the freedom to roam enjoyed by women of younger generations like me?
What drew you to the specific women you speak about in Come Fly the World?
I’d interviewed two of the three — Tori and Karen — about their experiences on the Operation Babylift flight and it occurred to me that if I could find more women, it would be an interesting way to structure the book. Many of the societal shifts and legal/industry changes I wanted to document aligned with the timeline of the nine years of the Vietnam War. So I started to ask around, and I met Lynne a little later. The three women’s experiences told many stories that I knew were essential to the larger story, but were a few that they didn’t tell. I wanted to know more about the racial diversification of the airlines, the movement of women into management roles, trips to Soviet Russia, and the women who lived in Hong Kong at the very start of the Vietnam War. Miraculously, two adventurous, smart women—Hazel Bowie and Clare Christiansen—covered all of that.
Was there a woman that was your favorite or that you were drawn to more than others?
I enjoyed spending time with each of them for different reasons, and felt a real connection with various elements of each of their attitudes and lived experiences: Tori’s pull toward formal diplomacy; Karen’s unapologetic wanderlust; Lynne’s compassion and curiosity about people; Hazel’s up-for-anything attitude; Clare’s ambition and drive. Honestly, I have never really written in-depth about anyone I didn’t wind up quite liking—on some level, life is too short for me to want to spend time with people I don’t in some way admire or enjoy.
I’m really interested in the feminist angle this book takes. How did international stewardesses help shape the American feminist movement? Why was this important for you to explore?
They traveled the world alone or in groups of women, earning their own paychecks, collecting company per diem payments at the concierge desks of hotels: they were the first large wave of women to work their way around the world. If taking up space is a political issue, all stewardesses of the mid-twentieth century, whether they call themselves feminists or not, indelibly furthered contemporary women’s abilities to roam.
Specific women also contributed more directly, too. In the 1960s, stewardesses were required to be young, unmarried—female by regulation, too—and to meet physical requirements outlined in excruciating detail. (“Attractive appearance will be foremost in importance,” read one airline’s supervisor handbook, and went on to list the exact physical attributes that made for feminine attractiveness.) Youth and marital status were monitored by rules that allowed for dismissal at a woman’s thirty-second or thirty-fifth birthday, depending on the airline, or upon her marriage. But lots of the women who began to work on airlines in their twenties didn’t want to stop, including after they married. They went to court rather than going quietly. Their love for and dedication to their jobs inspired some of the first legal challenges to unequal employment policies that went on to establish American labor law precedent as it applies to gender.
What did your research process look like for this book? Did you research and then write?
I did. My research was incredibly varied and fun and included primary sources, secondary sources, interviews, and then really fun bits like watching old videos on youtube or flipping through coffee table books. A lot of books, from really valuable academic studies to mass-market nonfiction, have been written about the jet age, and those were great help at the start. Though many totally ignore the tens of thousands of women who crewed on the planes, they offered a fantastic jumping-off point for my interviews. I really tried to let the oral history and lived experience guide the research—my approach was to toggle between reading a lot, interviewing a lot, and then going to newspapers and archives to confirm the details around what my interviewees told me. Once I’d found the women who would be my main subjects, whose memories are all very, very good—and who were really honest when they didn’t remember a certain detail—the research was exhilarating. To frame the history first in the personal and then in how the rest of the world watched the same event happening made me think a lot about how this electrifying, traumatic period of time in American life gets talked about today.
For a project that is so research heavy, how do you schedule your writing time? Can you tell us about your writing routine? What was something you discovered while researching that was particularly exciting or fascinating to you?
I write best in the morning, if possible first thing, if at all possible out of doors—though I live in Vermont right now, so that doesn't always work—with good music in the background and strong tea in a mug next to my computer. Having children recently has complicated that routine a fair bit, and I’ve been grateful that what I had thought were very firm habits and preferences are actually a lot more elastic. Any combination of three or so of those elements—tea, outdoors, morning, music; plus something I want to write about—and I can make it work. One wonderful thing that really helped me move from no-kid writing to writing with many more constraints on my time was the realization that if I did my research in the afternoon, I’d often wake up with one newly-discovered scene or moment rolling around in my mind. I tried to keep it present until I could sit down at a computer with no baby around and then turn on music of the era (I made a playlist of my favorites on spotify!) and settle into the writing. Then I’d go back to the research to fine-tune it and fill in any details I’d left until later.
For writers who are interested in journalism and nonfiction writing, what is some advice you can offer them as they begin their journey or writing career?
Two things. One, read a lot, think about what you’re liking about what you’re reading and why. Two, advice that is slightly more difficult to implement, move to someplace new and out of the American mainstream of our bigger cities. Large cities in the U.S. these days are so expensive to live in, and there’s so much richness both in smaller pockets of the U.S. and in other countries. I moved to Mexico City right out of college and taught English as I very slowly built up clips, contacts, and writing and reporting experience. Living in a less expensive place meant that I had more time to do the open-ended exploration that led to interesting writing and to learn by trial and error how to report and write. And living—not visiting or renting an airbnb for a few months, but building habits and a life—in another country was a revelation. Part of me thinks I never should have left—I really loved living there. All of me is grateful to have had the chance to stretch my intellectual and empathic abilities beyond what I’d known before then.
JULIA COOKE’s journalism has been published in Time, Smithsonian, and Conde Nast Traveler. She is the author of The Other Side of Paradise: Life in the New Cuba, and the daughter of a former Pan Am executive. She lives in Woodstock, Vermont.
