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September 25th, 1978, PSA flight 182 heading into San Diego from a stop over in Los Angeles, this was the flight I was supposed to be on. I was due to arrive that morning to help the owner of our company, Charles Scillipote. We were to open a temporary branch of Photo Art Studios in San Diego. As the name implies we were a photography company that traveled the western region of the U.S. behind a company that sold a book of discount
coupons to various events and eating establishments in the consumers local area. Amid the coupons, there was one that allowed the consumer to make an appointment for a portrait setting. The setting was free and also entitled the customer to a free 8x10 of their choosing. We would present a week or so after the setting, various picture proofs in hopes of selling a larger photo package. Opening this new office in San Diego and hiring on the new employees for our phone room was going to primarily be my responsibility this time.
This was an excellent job with loads of perks and in 1978, this being my first real job, it seemed to this nineteen year old that the well-being of the world rested on my being there on time that morning. I was earning upwards of one hundred dollars a day in commissions, plus bonuses for assignments like this one and the company covered all my travel and lodging expenses. My meals and entertainment in each town were my only financial obligations. The team I worked with became like family and we all spent the majority of our time together. even our off time in between towns, we would all frequently go to Charlie's house and stay until the next assignment. I was certain on September 24th, 1978 when I went to bed what time I had to be up and at the airport, and can to this day remember setting my alarm. In addition, I asked a co-worker to yell at me if I wasn't up by six. With those bases covered and knowing Charlie would call one of us and make sure we were all on our way to getting the days work done, I wasn't too worried about oversleeping. That was one benefit to being a team that lived together, if you were late, it was because everyone was late. I also to this day can recall my thoughts as I drifted off to sleep. I was happy, excited about my new assignment, and fell asleep wondering if we would be able to talk Charlie into a rental on the beach front.
The next thing I remember was the phone ringing. It was Charlie. I had overslept and missed my flight. He naturally was very angry. His Italiano temper was never something I enjoyed arousing. However, this time seemed different. He seemed to be upset beyond what would have been the norm. In fact, he really seemed to be blowing things way out of proportion. I remember having trouble keeping myself in check as he yelled at me over the phone that morning. I managed to stay calm. I was very relieved to hang up at the end of our conversation. We agreed I would call the airport and make reservations to fly out the next day, and I would be there on time.
An hour or so later Bug, one of my coworkers who worked permanently in our Hollywood office was wondering the house looking for something to eat when I asked him why he didn't wake me, I thought perhaps he had gone out of character and slept late. Bug was always a morning person. He said, "you really don't know what had Charlie so freaked out do you?" I replied that certainly I did. I wasn't there as I had promised and he had every right to be pissed. I was always harder on myself than others and although I disliked Charlies hostility I did believe he was right. It was just my defensive nature that caused me to feel as if he was out of line. That and I didn't tolerate people getting angry with me very well. In addition, I certainly didn't allow others to verbally abuse me. Charlie had been right on the border of that. Bug laughed and said "Charlie wasn't that upset just because you're going to be a day late. Don't you watch the news? It's been on TV all morning. Your flight blew up before it ever got to the airport. You wouldn't have been there anyway." I was frozen. Then I didn't believe him and had to go check it out for myself. I felt my stomach crawling up into my esophagus as I watched the news report about the accident and witnessed the debris from the accident. I realized that could have been me. Within the same breath of my realization came again denial. I rushed over to my suitcase and reached in for my ticket. My boarding information clearly stated I had reservations for PSA, flight 182. No matter how many times I tried to think my way around it there was no denying it. I had been scheduled to die that day.
As time went on I never forgot how fortunate I was to have been such a sound sleeper. Although I always kept a responsible attitude about being somewhere on time, I also learned to allow the unexpected to delay my arrival without stress. I decided that perhaps a backup on the freeway or a missed alarm now and again isn't a bad thing. As long as I knew I had done everything I could to do what was responsible I learned to allow
I continued to fly and to have delays that made me late for one event or another. Life gave me a second chance on that day, and I have never forgotten. I am eternally grateful to God for a great many things this being one of the biggies. I hope I never loose sight of the fact that I am here more than once as a direct result of Divine intervention.
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