The first (commercial) flight I remember clearly was in the mid 50's. I flew from Moline to Chicago and then on from Chicago to West Palm Beach.

I loved being waited on and fussed over (although I do recall that I thought lunch wasn't anywhere near as fancy as lunch at the Palmer House or on the Sky Chief) and I was so very proud of myself because I wore a brand new bright red suit with a coat to match.

I was also terribly disappointed to discover upon landing that Orchard Airport was not a lovely garden spot (like my previous private crop duster flights had been) but just a bunch of concrete.