One of the most valuable lessons my father taught me was how to tip a sky cap. Each summer, my papa, the director of operations for American Airlines in Detroit, took my brother and I to spend a day with him at the airport. He did so individually, perhaps so he would not have to chase down both of us, or possibly so we could have his undivided attention.
We went everywhere, from the tower, to the Admirals Club, the pilots’ lounge and out to Air Freight, which had its own busy hangar. The tour always included a stop to greet the sky caps.
Everyone was happy to see him and everyone shook his hand and greeted him like a friend. Eventually, I came to realize that his handshakes often contained a little surprise: a crisply folded bill.
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