I’M JUST AN ORDINARY PERSON. I never thought of becoming a flight attendant. I assumed you had to be 5 feet 10 inches tall, drop dead gorgeous and speak five languages.  I was none of those things.

I wish I had found my passion at an early age, been one of those children who knew what they were going to be when they grew up.  Instead, I bounced around, dropping in and out of college, never quite finding my perfect fit whether it was an interesting job, a cute apartment or a handsome boyfriend.

In January, 1980 I saw a classified ad in the San Francisco Examiner newspaper that would change my life.  My parents subscribed to both the San Francisco Chronicle, delivered in the morning, and the San Francisco Examiner, delivered in the evening.  Searching for a job, I only read the classifieds in the Chron because it was a highly respected newspaper and had a larger circulation.  For some odd reason, that evening I idly scanned the want ads in the Examiner.