Flying and Leadership

By Emma Henderson

My journey into, through and subsequently out of aviation has been far from straightforward but has also been an amazing journey full of challenges, friends, fun and adventure.

I don’t come from a flying background but grew up in rural Essex with a love of flying prompted by seeing Space Shuttle Enterprise fly into Stansted on the back of a B747 when I was 10 years old. That love has never really left me although I went to University to read History with a view to becoming a lawyer - and with no idea that there was an Air Cadets Squadron in my home town!!!

It was while I was at University that I discovered the Universities Air Squadron. I was walking through Freshers Fair in the Student Union when I saw a large banner saying “Learn to Fly for FREE” - I wandered over to the stand and by the time I left I had filled in an application form - a piece of paper that would change the course of my life!

Having passed the interview at RAF Finningley (which became the recently closed Doncaster Robin Hood airport), I had to pass a medical which would have been much more straightforward if I had remembered to take my glasses with me - and also if the RAF medics hadn’t discovered that I am colourblind - I thought my flying journey was over before it had begun, but someone was watching over me because I was sent to see a specialist and it turns out that whilst I can’t distinguish anything in the Isihara plates (used to weed out colourblindness) I CAN pass a Lantern test! Hooray! I was issued with some extremely fetching RAF issue glasses and also with a cardboard cockpit which I assembled in my student room in Leeds so that I could learn my way through all the checks before I was allowed to step in to a real aircraft.

My training wasn’t straightforward - it turned out that I was a natural pilot - as long as we are flying straight and level. When it comes to throwing planes around the sky however, I am not so good, and narrowly avoided being fined for returning from a Spin trip with a full sick bag which my instructor (who became a lifelong friend) gallantly carried in and disposed of for me (cheers Gordo!!)

Having joined the squadron, I assumed that I would go on to join the RAF - indeed I had been issued brown flying boots rather than black ones because that was all they had in my size - brown flying boots were for Harrier pilots so I decided that is what I would be….

I passed the aptitude tests at Cranwell in 1995 with an astonishingly high score for navigator (which I didn’t want to be) but by then I was about to get married. I met my husband (we have just celebrated our 28th wedding anniversary) on my first weekend at Finningley. We were engaged in 6 months and married a year later - and I made a choice. I could either send the first 3 years of my marriage living at opposite ends of the country with no guarantees of ever being co-located, or I could put my flying dreams to one side. I think a lot of people who know me now are really surprised that I chose to stop flying for a man - but it was a good decision and I have no regrets!

I also turned down a BA Cadetship in 1996 because it was at Prestwick and our home is 4 hours north on the Moray Firth - the internet was only just in its early stages, phones were attached to walls, and FaceTime was actually FACE time - so again I pushed it to one side and assumed that I would never fly again.

Fast forward to 2003 and we had built a house and had three small children, when we were moved to New Zealand on a military exchange programme. Another event that changed the course of my life. While my husband operated the P3 Orion for the RNZAF, I would drop the children at school or nursery and go flying. I flew all over New Zealand, taking people on sightseeing trips around Auckland, ferrying aircraft to maintenance, glider towing, and even got some Mountain Flying in at Wanaka - an experience I will never forget - the scenery there is majestic and to fly through it was eye waveringly spectacular.

When we returned to the UK almost 4 years later, I was a fully qualified commercial pilot and set about getting a job. First of all I had to convert my licences to what was then a JAA licence which involved sitting all 16 ATPL exams (having already sat PPL and CPL exams in New Zealand), and while I was doing the flying part of that conversion at Wycombe Air Park, I met Caroline Herd (now Smith) who was my instructor. She was, and still is, a fabulous lady who, like me, never accepted that there would be any barriers to us flying professionally.

I was awarded the Diamond Jubilee scholarship by GAPAN (now the Honorary Company of Air Pilots) in 2007 and became a PPL instructor, starting work at Wycombe, and then moving with my husbands postings, firstly to work at Moray Flying Club which was then based at RAF Kinloss, and eventually moving on to Highland Aero Club where I became Chief Flying Instructor. Flying around the north of Scotland was very similar to flying around New Zealand - quiet airspace, amazing scenery and almost always a coastline to get you out of trouble! (Navigation has never been my strong point but that’s a whole other story!)

In 2009, easyJet opened up their type rating scheme to anyone who had a licence, the irony of this was not lost on me as I had applied to CTC to join their cadet scheme when I was living in New Zealand. Their training centre was in Hamilton just down the road from Auckland, and I was told that I was “too old to apply” at the grand age of 30 - the age cut off (which has since quite rightly been abandoned as being discriminatory) was 27 - it was a ridiculous policy and I am glad it has been removed! I was now 36 and accepted onto the type rating to start flying the Airbus A320 at Stansted where the dream had begun 26 years earlier.

I always say that I “grew up” on the A319 as that was mostly what we operated from Stansted and I spent one week of each month in Lyon when a base opened there which took me to new destinations like Casablanca, and even operating the inaugural flight to Edinburgh with my mate Jonny as Captain. After 4 years, I was well on my way to command and entered the process of assessment flights and interviews, expecting to achieve the rank of Captain by the end of 2014.

Life never turns out as you plan it to though does it, and suddenly in the Spring of 2014 I was struck down with a mystery illness causing me to not only lose my medical, but my ability to walk, or even lift my arms up for long enough to wash my hair. For someone who was running and playing tennis every day and swimming 1km several times a week this was devastating - but I knew I was ill because I couldn’t even think about flying at that point.

I had 6 months off work while I was diagnosed with an auto-immune illness which luckily for me, had a cure, and a week on a drip of immunoglobulin shut down my immune system and returned me to full health. It was time to get back in the saddle again, but in my quest to prove that I was a normal, healthy woman, I threw myself back into exercise a bit too heavily by cycling 300 miles from Waterloo Station in London to Waterloo in Belgium (with no training - silly girl!). My back did not thank me for this and during the command course that I had successfully progressed to, it gave way completely and I found myself back in an ER and on a cocktail of drugs that was so strong I had to take anti-sickness drugs as well.

I was off the course while my back recovered and by the time I returned the momentum had been lost. My course mates had carried on without me and were all getting their commands while I was still in the simulator. What I should have done then was to have asked to be re-coursed, but I was hungry for the prize and desperate to prove to myself that my illness hadn’t defeated me. It was a bad decision to continue, and ultimately, I failed my final simulator check - the one that would release me into the aircraft for line training. There was no going back from here. I had failed the single biggest challenge of my career, and it was the first time in my entire life that I had failed at anything at all - in my early 40s I distinctly remember the drive home at 3am, in tears, feeling battered and sorry for myself. I put a brave face on to my husband as I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep wondering if this was some kind of sign that I shouldn’t be flying at all.

My initial reaction was to give up. We had managed to book a last minute family holiday to Malta and we holed up in a fortified farmhouse near Xlendi on the northern coast of Gozo. With no communication with the outside world at all, and 40 degree heat making us do nothing but what we needed which was to lie around the pool and read and swim, I started to heal a little. I got over the embarrassment of having messed up so badly, and decided that I loved Malta so much I would like to fly for Air Malta - my husband tolerated this surprisingly, until a few days later when there was definitely a sign in the form of the daily newspaper headline which said “Air Malta to lay off staff”. They were massively over-crewed and this mad idea of mine would have been a non-starter.

Eventually I realised that the only thing to do was to pick myself up, dust myself down and go back to work and get on with it. It wasn’t the end of the world. Nobody had died, this was a recoverable situation but it was down to me how I handled it.  

I could have lashed out at the airline, blaming them for the timing of the sim check, the severity of the failure I was given to deal with, the behaviour of the first officer - but they were just all excuses - in the end it was on me - I should have been ready and if I wasn’t ready I should have made that call.

I returned to the right hand seat with as much grace and dignity as I could muster, and was told I would have to wait another year before I could try again. I firmly believe that the support I received from so many of my colleagues after that was down to the fact that I didn’t lash out, I did take ownership of my own mistakes, and I spent another year learning from them - so that by the time I had my second chance, I wasn’t only ready, I was a MUCH better Captain than I ever could have been before. I had learned to have empathy, and humility and it stood me in good stead for the challenge ahead as one of fewer than 400 female airline captains in the world (number 396 actually!)

I finally passed my line check on 28 November 2016 after a 4 sector day from Luton to Barcelona and Edinburgh. Even the trainer (an old friend from Stansted) was slightly emotional as he told me I had passed with flying colours - it was a very proud, and hard won moment!

I completely loved every single moment of the next four years, taking every opportunity I could to fly from other bases including a month in Porto, weeks in Lisbon and Lyon, and odd nights here or there in other places all over Europe. I took on other roles too as a Fear of Flying presenter, Peer Support Mentor and made sure that above anything else, I looked after my crew and passengers no matter what happened. I did all my welcome on board PAs from the front of the cabin whether we were delayed or not so that I was visible to the passengers and the crew knew I had their backs - and I also made sure I went upstairs at the end of a challenging day with a box of chocolates or biscuits for the people in Ops, Crewing and Engineering who had helped me out.  

When my husbands job moved to Lincolnshire I spent 18 months driving 2 hours each way to work knowing that I had a bolthole at my parents if I needed it, and finally I managed to persuade him that it was time for us to move home to the Moray Firth, even though that would mean a big commute by air for me - in 2018 that’s exactly what we did and I spent the next 2 years commuting firstly to Luton and then to Gatwick, reducing to a 75% roster pattern to give me more time at home.

As I left Luton in 2018 to begin working at Gatwick (to accommodate my commute), I was asked to appear in an ITV fly on the wall documentary called Inside the Cockpit, and for the next 6 months a camera crew followed me almost everywhere. I was busy, with commuting, operating in Europes busy airspace as a Captain who was picking up roster changes daily, I became a Peer Support Mentor, and then a Fear of Flying presenter. For this I had to learn a 45 minute script, basically explaining to people why flying is safe and dispelling as many of their fears as possible, followed by an open Q&A session. We would then take these passengers on a short flight which I would narrate. It was so incredible to see the difference it made to so many of our passengers when they realised that there really was nothing to worry about when flying.

The documentary - Inside the Cockpit - aired in the summer of 2018 and overnight, I became “Captain Emma” and received messages from all over the world as people watched me at work. I featured heavily in the first two episodes and became well known in the aviation industry as a result - looking back, this was important for what was about to come - but I didn’t know that yet!

2019 was a big year for aviation and 2020 was expected to be even bigger - we went into that year riding the crest of a wave - little did we know that wave was about to become a tidal wave of uncertainty which left a trail of destruction in its wake.

On March 15th 2020, I operated a half empty flight to Luxembourg, and on our return, as we were coming into land at Gatwick, it felt like something significant was about to happen. Our few passengers wished us “good luck” instead of “goodbye” and the following day I left a deserted South East of England behind me and flew home to Inverness. I didn’t know then, that I had just operated my last ever commercial flight for easyJet - and I didn’t know what was coming either.

Whilst at home, I spoke to the Clinical professor who oversaw our Peer Support programme at easyJet, and said that there must be something we could do to support the NHS which we were all being told was facing it biggest challenge yet.

He agreed and a few days later our idea of providing Tea and Empathy to NHS frontline staff became a reality as I spread the message far and wide that there was an opportunity for aircrew to support this. Within 3 days, 750 people had signed up to help, and three weeks after that initial conversation, we opened our first Wingman Lounge at the Whittington Hospital in London.

We named our cause “Project Wingman” as a nod to Top Gun, but also because of the role of a wingman in aviation - a Wingman is “a the pilot of a secondary aircraft providing support or protection to a primary aircraft in a potentially dangerous situation” and this fitted our purpose exactly. Our aim was, and still is, to provide support or protection to our friends and colleagues in the NHS - from one uniformed industry working in a high pressure, safety based environment, to another. Our intention has only ever been to provide an extra layer of care to our NHS colleagues in their time of greatest need, and once one lounge opened, it created a domino effect across London, and then out across the country.

By May 2020, we had 4500 volunteers supporting our lounges, and this number grew to 6500 by the summer. Our volunteers came from every corner of aviation, representing every airline operating in and out of the UK at the time, and including crew who worked for other non-UK based airlines. The response was incredible. We opened 104 lounges across all four nations of the UK, and with the support of the public and the generosity of local and national businesses, we turned these spaces into “First Class Lounges” where NHS staff could just take a break in a space that was completely unlike their working environment.

People gave generously - as well as the mountain of snacks, drinks and iPhone chargers that were donated, we were given flower walls, balloon arches, sound systems, furniture, plants and one of our founding sponsors, GoldKey Media has to date, provided over £10 million worth of newspapers, magazines and luxury gifts which have been shared amongst the staff at all the hospitals we have had a presence in.

The airlines had a bumpy ride in 2020, and as crew went back to work, then stopped flying again, then went back to work again, or were made redundant and found other work (often through us, in the NHS), we found that we had formed a strong family of support - calling themselves “Winglets”, that family of volunteers is still going strong, and still providing amazing well-being support across the nation.

We had no idea when we started of the longevity of this Project, but as we progressed through 2020, we knew we couldn’t sustain the level of activity that we were seeing throughout the summer. We decided that we would continue our work for as long as possible, and that the way we would deliver our lounges would need to change as hospitals reclaimed their spaces, and aircrew returned to work. The way in which we decided to continue was to buy and convert a double decker bus, to provide a mobile well-being lounge, and heading into the winter of 2020, and up against the challenges all charities were facing, we embarked on an ambitious quest to raise £100,000 in order to do this. It was an almost impossible challenge as lockdowns came and went but we firmly believed that if this was the right thing to do, the money would come. It did, and in February 2021, we opened our first bus - Wellbee - which we launched at the Homerton Hospitals University Trust in London.  

3 1/2 years on, Wingman is still going, with two more double decker buses and a single decker on the way in order to be able to reach smaller community sites with the well-being support for which we have become well known, and the work we have done so far, and particularly the work we did in 2020 has been widely acknowledged and awarded, even being called “the only good thing to happen to Aviation in 2020”

I received an MBE in the New Years Honours list in 2021 for my work in putting the charity together and leading it through the pandemic, an award that I never expected, but one which is the result of the work of all of the 6500 people who got out of bed and put their uniforms on when they didn’t have to, in order to help people they didn’t know. I think that is the most incredible thing about the way in which our charity started, and as CEO, it is something that has changed my life profoundly.

Faced with the impossibility of maintaining a commute to London by air, and with so much uncertainty on the horizon, I made the very difficult, emotional and painful decision in the summer of 2020, to accept voluntary redundancy from the job that I had worked so hard to achieve, and had loved so much.

I had never returned to Gatwick, and my friend and landlord had packed all my belongings into my car in order for my son to drive it the length of the country as soon as he was allowed to. I parcelled up my iPad, ID card and Captains phone and returned them to easyJet as I stepped away from my life in the sky and into my new life as charity CEO, and going on to build a successful business as a professional speaker and leadership coach, building on the lessons I learned over 8500 hours in the air, and a career that has spanned more than 30 years.

The question I am asked most now is “do you miss it?” And my honest answer is no. There are elements that I miss - I miss knowing that I was really good at my job - even though I worried all the time that I wasn’t good enough. I miss the people I worked with, and the passengers I flew, but there is so much about the job that was becoming more challenging as I have got older, and my lifestyle now is something that I wouldn’t change.

It is a privilege and an honour to continue to lead our team of Winglets as we continue to serve the NHS by providing the well-being support that staff not only need, but really value, and it is testament to the work that we are doing, that we are still going more than three years later, with big plans for the future.

I don’t know if I will ever fly again - I don’t need to - I achieved everything I set out to achieve and so much more, and I continue to do everything I can to encourage young people, and especially young women, to consider a career in aviation. Not everyone has to be a pilot of course - the whole aviation industry is full of exciting opportunities for people to get stuck into, and so I support and encourage where I can, as actively as I can.

I have been a STEM ambassador for a long time, but have also spent the last year as an Aviation Ambassador for the Department for Transport and this is where I am able to put something back into the career that I have loved for so long.

The important thing about my journey into, through and subsequently out of aviation, is that a long time ago, a 10 year old girl had a dream, which she kept hold of and worked towards until eventually achieved it. Along the way she received support and encouragement from everyone she came into contact with, until she realised her dream, and went on to do something with it. That little girl was me. 

I am still holding on to the dream.