A Southwest circle closes

Kyla Ebbert just tried to take her long legs and Hooters waitress body onto a Southwest Airlines flight 35 years too late.

Kyla, a 23-year-old college student in San Diego and, yes, a Hooters waitress, wanted to fly from San Diego to Tucson recently. After she had boarded and taken her seat, she was motioned to the front by a Southwest employee named Keith. At the front, Keith said Kyla was not dressed appropriately and would have to leave the aircraft.

Kyla, blonde and tanned, was wearing a bra, a white tank top, a sort of short-sleeved green sweater that buttoned underneath her Hooters credentials, and a decidedly short white denim miniskirt. After a chat, and then an argument, in hearing range of passengers, Kyla was permitted to remain on the plane to make an important appointment in Tucson. She said she was deeply embarrassed. From Tucson, she called her mother in tears. From there, the story found its way into Gerry Braun's column in The San Diego Union-Tribune, and then, this morning, onto the "Today" show.

Kyla said all she wanted was an apology. Thirty-five years ago, she might have received an invitation to become a Southwest flight attendant.

I remember flying Southwest when it was a start-up, serving Dallas, Houston and San Antonio. This was in the early '70s. Southwest was the way to go. They flew jets, early-generation Boeing 737s. They were cheap, they were on time, and they were fun. If you've flown Southwest, you have heard the echo of the old good-time spirit that pulled the airline's first passengers onboard all those years ago.

It was a short flight between any of Southwest's original cities, so management figured if drinking time was short, it only made sense to pour doubles, if a passenger wanted a cocktail. The doubles were served in real glasses, with lots of ice, and they were $2 each. You didn't get that on Braniff or American or Continental.

Whisking the cocktails up and down the aisles were stewardesses – a 1970s term for flight attendants – in outfits still worn onto airplanes in 2007 by San Diego college students named Kyla. Orange short shorts. I don't remember miniskirts as part of the uniform, but I remember the short shorts, and the high (well, 2-inch) heels, tight tops, and cleavage. I figured Southwest management decided Texas wasn’t much to look at through the window, so they'd give us something to look at inside.

I hope Gerry Braun is already on the telephone to a Southwest stew from the early days. His story is already stirring up a lot of coverage, so to speak, and happy reminiscences. My pal Jon Standefer flew Southwest a lot. We were talking about Kyla's plight today, and we agreed that the old Southwest outfits looked very much like early Hooters. He told me one day he was on a flight leaving Dallas for Houston. But they had to hold the flight on the tarmac while a mechanical problem was fixed. It wound up taking a couple of hours, but nobody cared. Inside, the lead stew had announced the delay and said, "Drinks on the house."

Is that any way to run an airline? Lord, it was. I have a sort of bond with Herb Kelleher, who was a Southwest founder and didn't retire until just recently. On my desk is a wrapped roll of Scott Tissue from one of Southwest's airplanes, and it is inscribed: "For Emergency Use Only! – Herb Kelleher."

That's another story. For now, I think I'll ask if he can dig up Southwest shorts and top, circa 1973, to send to Kyla. And I'll take a $2 double.