There was one Lead Station Attendant I’ll never forget—her name was Marilyn.
One summer, before I officially became a Lead, I bid onto her crew. Let me tell you, it turned out to be one of the best bids I ever worked on.
Marilyn was something else. She had a mouth on her that could make a trucker blush. I’m talking F-bombs flying every second word—she swore like a sailor, maybe even worse. It was like working with a waterfront dock worker straight out of the 1970s. And she had a nickname for everyone. Nobody was safe—rookie, vet, supervisor—it didn’t matter. If you worked with Marilyn, you had a nickname, whether you liked it or not.
But you know what? For all her colourful language and rough edges, Marilyn was one hell of a Lead Hand. She ran a tight ship. Flights got out on time, bags were always accounted for, and no one ever stood around wondering what to do. You always knew where you stood with her—and that was usually one step behind, moving fast, and doing it right.
She led with fire, but also with heart. She had your back, and you knew it.
To this day, when I think of the people who shaped how I lead and work on the ramp, Marilyn’s right at the top of that list. F-bombs and all.
