“Never has such a beautiful object been designed and built by man. This aircraft is not going to stop, because it continues to live on in the human imagination.”

-- Jean-Cyril Spinetta
-- Chairman, Air France

Flying on Concorde is the closest you can come, in this life, to heaven. In my view, civil aviation is one of the great triumphs of mankind and Concorde is without a doubt its pinnacle. Concorde may not have been profitable, but it is both a great technological triumph and a work of great beauty, comparable to Michelangelo’s David or Saint Chapelle or Falling Water.

One of my early memories dates from 1971, when Concorde spent a month in Johannesburg, where I grew up. Every time we heard its song, we’d all run out of class to watch it describe circles in the Highveld sky. Since then I had an opportunity to fly on BA’s, in 1998, and I’ve seen it from time to time at various airports. And I love it, so I was devastated to hear that it was being grounded forever. I’m not a historian, so I can’t say this with certainty, but I think this may be the first time in human history that we have taken a giant step backwards. In these times of war and pestilence, of conflict and poverty, Concorde is a reminder of the great things we can achieve, and of what a wonderful planet we inhabit.

When I heard the announcement, I immediately checked with BA to try to arrange another trip. There was zero avail, so I called Delta, who offered me a seat on AF, leaving that evening. I took it. The flight brought a wealth of emotions – exhilaration, ecstasy, wonder and joy. But at the same time I was fighting back tears most of the way across, and a few escaped after I deplaned in New York. Everything about the trip was superb – the aircraft, the crew (particularly on the outbound, the finest I’ve ever had), the food and drink and even the other passengers. While I wouldn’t equate the Concorde to a human being, the trip was like being with a dying loved one, as I struggled to maximize the enjoyment – and memory – of every moment.

AF001 JFK-CDG APRIL 11, 2003

The experience began when my limo (well, my father’s Honda) dropped me at JFK’s Terminal One at 6:30, to check in for the 8:00 a.m. AF001. The terminal was all but deserted, although four check-in desks were open for the flight. I was quickly checked in, during which the agent affixed a Concorde tag to my bag, gave me a special Concorde CD (“Orchestral Works of Leonard Bernstein”) and directed me to the lounge. Before going there I went to the gate to admire the beauty of F-BTSD, which was to carry me both ways. The lounge had a lavish breakfast buffet, along with a variety of drinks, reading matter etc. A number of display cabinets contained models of Air France aircraft – all now out of service except one, Concorde. A sad omen. There was also a single computer, with a strange French keyboard.

Boarding was called at 7:30. I was first to respond, although a few passengers had preboarded. There were a lot of flight attendants (I think 8) and each of them greeted me personally. One – who was to be my primary attendant during the flight – escorted me to seat 18A. She spoke with me briefly, starting with “have you flown Concorde before?” I realized that she asked all passengers this, and I think used the response to personalize the service – I discussed my enthusiasm for Concorde, and thereafter she and other crew members shared their love for the aircraft with me and ensured I enjoyed every aspect of the experience. The business passenger across from me received much less attention, which she clearly preferred. Throughout the crew were kind, cheerful, friendly, polite and solicitous. I can’t say enough about them. As I settled down, she brought me a technical information booklet and relieved me of my jacket. I gazed idly outside the window, where a “Mach II maintenance” van was parked.

Much has been said about the interior of Concorde. It is, as evident from the exterior, very long and narrow, with a low ceiling. There are two cabins – on Air France, the front cabin has 10 rows and the rear cabin 13, four abreast. Between them is a section with a lav on either side, some storage and display space and the emergency exits. This section was curtained off at both ends during flight. There was also one lav forward, with a galley at the rear. While the interior is tight, the seats are very comfortable – slightly narrower than (U.S.) domestic F seats, with good pitch. Everything is very well-designed – the tray tables, for example, fold up from below on a complicated mechanism. Just a touch releases them to restow. The windows are tiny – smaller than a hand on the outside, and the overhead panels – complete with miniature air vents – are similarly diminutive. The overhead bins are very elegant, with the latches hidden above. Clearly, a great deal of care had gone into the interior design.

At 7:55 the engines were started and ground power was disconnected. We pushed back three minutes later and began a very slow taxi. We then stopped for a while, presumably while checklists were completed or permission awaited. An incoming JAL 744 waited for us – and I realized that everyone on it was probably watching us, as were the rampers and I’m sure anyone who got a glimpse of the beautiful bird. Whenever I’ve been in airports, or on other aircraft, heads have turned when Concorde came by – it’s the only aircraft, I think, that everyone can recognize.

At 8:18, finally, we took runway 13R. My heart was beating faster than Sierra Delta’s Olympus engines as the takeoff roll began at 8:19:27. The roll is quite unusual – not a huge surge of power from brake release as in a 757 and as you might expect. Instead, it starts fairly slowly and then accelerates – but the acceleration continues and continues, pressing the passengers into their seats. The aircraft assumes a nose-up pitch almost immediately, and it took just 41 seconds for us to take to the air. 37 seconds later the power eased notably, as the afterburners were shut off for noise abatement. 36 seconds later it was easy to feel them come back on as we began our acceleration to supersonic speed. Unfortunately, the machmeter in the rear cabin wasn’t working, but they announced that we should break the sound barrier 10 minutes after takeoff at 33,000 feet.

At 8:27 there was a ping and the cabin crew went to work, bringing hot towels. At 8:43 the seatbelt sign was turned off, and the flight attendants came around with menus – which had also been displayed in the lounge – and with a tray of juices (orange, grapefruit and cranberry). The tray tables were set, by hand and without trays. Typically of the careful service, the flight attendants were careful to place the glasses with the seahorse logo facing the passenger. The items were all stylish, but not marked with the Concorde logo. Most interestingly, the silverware (with plastic knives) was wrapped in a napkin/serviette and then in a tube of corrugated cardboard. Quite attractive. The food and drink were superb, and I can’t imagine that there had been any cutbacks.