Like Father, Like Son: When the Ramp Kids Came to Work

There was a time at Toronto Pearson when you could tell it was summer simply by looking around the ramp.

The airplanes were busy, the baggage never seemed to stop moving, and among the familiar faces of the regular ramp station attendants were a bunch of new, younger faces.

The summer students had arrived.

But many of them weren’t strangers to the airport.

They were the sons and daughters of the men and women who worked the ramp.

For these kids, the airport wasn’t some strange new workplace. They had grown up hearing their parents talk about it at the dinner table.

They knew all about the airplanes.

They knew Dad worked nights.

They knew Mom had to leave the house at some ungodly hour to catch a 6 a.m. shift.

They had heard stories about baggage, difficult passengers, crazy weather, delayed flights and the never-ending battle to get an aircraft out on time.

Now, for the summer, they were going to experience it themselves.

Welcome to the Ramp

The first day was usually pretty easy.

Orientation.

Uniform.

Safety shoes.

Identification badge.

A few instructions about what to do — and, more importantly, what not to do.

Then came the moment when the new student was taken out onto the ramp.

That’s when reality set in.

This wasn’t summer camp.

It was hot.

It was noisy.

It was dirty.

And there was always something that needed to be done.

The experienced station attendants knew the students were there to learn, but they also knew something else:

They were somebody’s kid.

And sometimes that made things interesting.

If your father was a veteran ramp employee, you didn’t get any special treatment.

In fact, you might have gotten the opposite.

Dad might have been the first one to say:

“Don’t embarrass me out here!”

And you knew exactly what that meant.

Work hard.

Pay attention.

Don’t stand around.

And whatever you do, don’t make the family name look bad.

The regular employees also had plenty of fun with the newcomers.

“Whose kid are you?”

“Oh, you’re Tony’s son? Well, now we know who we’re going to blame when something goes wrong!”

The students quickly discovered that working at the airport came with its own language.

They learned about belt loaders, baggage carts, containers, dollies and paymovers.

They learned what it meant when a lead station attendant started yelling for everyone to get the aircraft buttoned up.

They learned that an aircraft departure time wasn’t a suggestion.

And they learned very quickly that baggage is heavy.

The Airport Was the Family Business

For many of these young people, the airport became almost like a family business.

Dad worked the ramp.

Mom might have worked in baggage or another department.

An uncle worked on the aircraft.

A cousin worked in the terminal.

And now the kids were working there too.

You could walk through the employee areas and hear:

“That’s Joe’s son.”

“That’s Mary’s daughter.”

“He’s working Zone 5 this summer.”

“Her father has been here for twenty years.”

The airport was a small world.

Everybody seemed to know everybody.

And everybody seemed to know whose kid you were.

Some students were just looking for a summer job and a little spending money.

Others were fascinated by aviation.

They loved being around the airplanes and couldn’t believe they were actually getting paid to be there.

And then there were those who discovered something much bigger.

They discovered they liked the airport.

Dad’s Old Work Stories Suddenly Made Sense

After a few weeks, something funny happened.

The students started understanding what their parents had been talking about all those years.

When Dad came home complaining about working in the rain, they understood.

When Mom talked about how busy the ramp had been, they understood.

When their parents said, “You wouldn’t believe how much baggage we had today,” they finally understood.

They were living it.

They were also discovering that the people their parents worked with weren’t just coworkers.

They were friends.

They were the people who had shared the freezing mornings, the blazing summer afternoons, the snowstorms, the mechanical problems, the delays and the countless aircraft turnarounds.

The students became part of that world — even if only for a few months.

Then Came Labour Day

The summer always seemed to disappear faster than expected.

Suddenly, it was Labour Day weekend.

The students were getting ready to go back to school.

High school.

College.

University.

Their summer uniforms were about to be put away.

The ramp crew knew what was coming.

The young faces would disappear, at least until next summer.

Some would return.

Some wouldn’t.

A few would discover that the airport wasn’t for them.

But others would be back the following summer — and the summer after that.

And every once in a while, one of those summer students would eventually say:

“I think I’m going to make this my career.”

And that’s exactly what happened to some of them.

The summer job became a full-time job.

The kid became an employee.

And eventually, that employee might be standing on the ramp years later, watching another young student arrive for his first summer.

Only this time, the young student might be his own son or daughter.

Passing It Down

That’s what made those summer students different.

They weren’t just temporary help.

They were part of the airport family.

They were the second generation learning the same trade their parents had learned.

They were discovering the pride that came with seeing an aircraft pushed back, engines start and the flight depart safely.

And they were learning something their parents already knew:

Working the ramp wasn’t glamorous.

But there was something special about it.

You worked outside in every kind of weather.

You got dirty.

You got tired.

You sometimes got yelled at.

You worked weekends and holidays.

But at the end of the day, you knew you had been part of something.

You had helped move an airplane.

You had helped get people home.

And you had worked alongside people you could count on.

For many of those kids, the airport was more than just a summer job.

It was where they spent their summers growing up.

And for their parents, there was a certain pride in watching their kids put on the uniform and walk onto the ramp for the first time.

They weren’t just bringing their kids to work.

They were giving them a glimpse into a world that had been such a big part of their own lives.

Then September arrived.

The students headed back to school.

The ramp returned to its regular routine.

But everyone knew that somewhere in a classroom, one of those young summer employees was probably thinking about the airport.

And maybe wondering how many days were left until next summer.

Because once you’ve worked the ramp…

it’s hard to stay away.