My Heavenly Flight Attendant

When you are a good looking blond flight attendant working in Poland and the government asks you to become a spy, what do you do? You accept the job, of course.

Wherever Grace Shaw is living these days, I hope she finds this article and reads it. She was my heavenly flight attendant and I will always remember her.

I was living in Marco Island, FL. when I received a telephone call notifying me my father had passed away. I immediately booked a flight with Delta Airlines to attend my dad's funeral.

One of the flight attendants was a leggy blonde with a great smile. She noticed my despondency, kept my wine glass full, and gave me her phone number in Ft. Lauderdale.

After the funeral, I returned to Florida and began a relationship with Grace. We went on casino cruises to nowhere out of Ft. Lauderdale and Miami.

She introduced me to her six cats, including Blackie, who had cancer and who Grace would pay for surgery in an attempt to save his life.

Our bedtime talk was wonderful. We would be sharing a bottle of Robert Mondavi Chardonnay while lying on the bed and watching a foreign sub-titled movie.

She would tell me about her childhood in Warsaw, Poland, how she had attended a university to become an astronaut, how she had switched professions to flying for the Polish Airlines.

She also told me how her supervisor had recruited her to become a spy for the Polish government.

"I flew to Moscow, met Nikita Kruschev and had a lot of fun," she said "they paid me well and I stayed with them until they gave me a new assignment I didn't like. They wanted me to spy on my fellow flight attendants and pilots. I told them, no way. I quit.

"My section chief's name was Boris. He was a darling grandfatherly man and he liked me . He said sadly, 'Grace, you can't quit. You're a spy. If you quit, we have to shoot you.'

Boris didn't have Grace shot. Instead he managed to get her a passport so she could leave Poland and migrate to America where she secured a job with Delta Airlines.

Grace loved to dress elegantly and we went on several poker cruises out of Ft. Lauderdale.

I can still picture her in her low cut gown, shaking the dice, playing a slot machine, or just sitting behind me while I played poker.

Once we watched the movie 'Apollo 13.' Her insight into the way the rocket ship functioned was amazing to hear. She would have made a damned good astronaut.

Grace and I split a short time before I accepted a job in St. Kitts as editor of the weekly Observer. She was as wild and free as a bird and had warned me when we met that she was not interested in a long term relationship or marriage. I said I understood and I think I did.

All I know is if all the Russian spies are as good as Grace, please lead me to them. I'm ready for espionage.