Sir Freddie Laker was once asked by a schoolmaster during childhood what he wanted to be when he grew up. He cheekily replied “a millionaire”.
His classmates laughed at him, but Freddie went on to see his dream come true by making cheap air travel available to all. He launched charter company Laker Airlines in 1966, then welcomed passengers with his Skytrain service.
He even stood on his head the day before the inaugural flight of his transatlantic Skytrain service from Gatwick in London to JFK in New York in 1977, declaring: “I’ve done everything but stand on my head to get Skytrain off the ground. Now I’ve done that!”
His flights could seat 345 passengers – with single tickets costing £59 – and passengers queued for 24 hours for the chance to be the first to board the walk-on economy service. For an extra £1.75, passengers could have a meal of paté, beef in red wine, apple pie, cheese, biscuits and a small bottle of wine.
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A colourful maverick, Freddie was the very public face of his company and would often join passengers on flights and welcome them on board.
He literally started on the ground floor – his first job at 16 was as a floor sweeper at an aircraft factory in Kent.
He went on to study aero-engineering and served with the RAF. From such humble beginnings, he later went on to build his own business empire and was knighted by the Queen in August 1978 for his services to the airline industry.
Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was said to be a big admirer of his business expertise which started when he began dealing in war surplus aircraft. His planes helped fly essential supplies into West Berlin after the Second World War and he later became managing director of British United Airways.
But Freddie’s high-flying dreams came crashing to the ground 40 years ago last month when the no-frills, long-haul airline collapsed with debts of £270million.
Around 6,000 passengers suddenly found themselves stranded at Gatwick as planes were immediately grounded.
Families planning to emigrate, holidaymakers and globe-trotting students were among those who suddenly found their travel plans cancelled without warning. Thousands more passengers found themselves stranded abroad.
Last minute attempts to come up with a rescue package proved unsuccessful as the 1980s recession, combined with fluctuating market trends, an oil crisis and aggressive competition, brought about the demise of the company.
The public quickly rallied around to try and save the underdog of the aviation world and launched a petition and a fundraising campaign that brought in £1million.
Thousands of Laker Airways staff also headed to London for a demonstration in support of their boss with one protestor dressing as a monkey and bearing a placard which read “No monkey business with Laker”.
Six of the company’s stewardesses even made a record dedicated to Freddie Laker called Let Us Fly. The record was released on Red Bus Records and part of the proceeds of the sale were donated to the Laker Fund.
Chart-toppers The Police played a benefit concert in America, but it was all too late to save the company.
More than three million passengers travelled on his planes in the five years before the collapse and Freddie once told the BBC: “I had 29 airlines ganged up against me. You can say what you like about Margaret Thatcher, but I was her icon when she was talking about competition. ‘Look at Laker Airways, competition pays,’ she would say. But, of course, as soon as the heat was on, she got me kicked out.”
BA and other airlines met the claims of his creditors three years after the company went bankrupt in 1982 and they paid Freddie almost £6million. He set up a new company in 1995, but his Laker Airways flights ended up operating only limited flights between America and the Bahamas and ceased trading in 2004.
The airline tycoon and qualified pilot passed away in Miami in 2006 at the age of 83. Sir Richard Branson called him a mentor and said Freddie advised him early in his career to become the public face of his company, adding: “He was a larger-than-life figure, with a wicked sense of humour and a great friend.”
He also paid his own personal tribute to the high-flying visionary – naming one of his early Virgin Atlantic aircraft The Spirit Of Sir Freddie.
