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A contributing reason for his success was that he never wasted time on diplomacy. Instead, he went directly to the point, both with people and airplanes. He also had a total disregard for rank, and was equally forthright with everyone.
On one occasion, Joe Patroni walked off his job and, without prior consultation, rode an airplane to New York. He carried a package with him. On arrival, he went by bus and subway to the airline’s Olympian headquarters where he strode into the president’s office. Opening the package, he deposited an oily, disassembled carburetor on the presidential desk.
The president, who had never heard of Joe Patroni, and whom no one ever got to see without prior appointment, was apoplectic until Joe told him, “If you want to lose some airplanes in flight, throw me out of here. If you don’t, sit down and listen.”
The president sat down and listened. Afterward, he called in his engineering vice-president who ordered a mechanical modification affecting carburetor icing in flight, which Patroni had been urging unsuccessfully for months.
Soon Joe was promoted to senior supervisor, and a few years later was given the important post of maintenance chief at Lincoln International.
On a personal level, it was said that Joe Patroni made love to his wife, Marie, most nights, the way other men enjoyed a pre-dinner drink. In fact, he had been thus engaged when the telephone message came from the airport.
The same rumor continued: Patroni made love the same way he did everything else—with a long, thin cigar. This was untrue, at least nowadays. Marie, having coped with several pillow fires during their early years of marriage had forbidden any more cigars in bed. Joe complied with the edict because he loved his wife. He had reason to. When he married her, she was probably the most popular and beautiful hostess in the entire airline system, and twelve years and three children later she could still hold her own with most successors.
Another thing about Joe Patroni was that he never panicked in emergencies. Instead, he quickly assessed each situation. In the case of the mired 707, instinct told him there was time to finish what he was doing. Soon after, Marie raced to the kitchen in her robe and threw sandwiches together for Joe to eat during his twenty-five-mile drive to the airport. He nibbled on a sandwich now.