In the late 1980s, I had flown from San Francisco to Eureka to spend a week auditing PG&E's Humboldt Bay Nuclear Power Plant, which was in the process of being decommissioned. The audit was over, and it was time to fly back home.
At the airport, I was standing in a short line waiting for my turn to go through the metal detector and into the waiting room. The airport for the Eureka area was quite small (I think there were probably only two, maybe three, boarding gates), and back then we waited at the gate on ground level and boarded our plane by simply walking out across the apron to the waiting plane and up some portable steps - The plane itself was like a flying shoebox.
Anyway - – I was in line behind this long-haired hippy-kind-of-guy who was wearing a camouflaged military field jacket.
Apparently the goal for the security people that day was to only let people through the metal detector and into the waiting area IF they could pass through the system WITHOUT setting of the alarm. (I don't recall that there was any x-ray machine at that time - just a couple of security people and a metal detector next to a conveyor belt that you were supposed to put your luggage on.)
So, this guy in front of me starts through the detector – – and the alarm goes off(?). "Whoa there! It must have been your belt buckle." So he pulls his belt out of his trousers and puts it on the conveyor belt.
He steps into the metal detector again and the alarm goes off a second time (??). "Hmm - must be your wrist watch. Put it on the conveyor with your belt please."
Attempt #3 - Yet another alarm (???). "Well - - ?? – - Maybe it's something in your jacket. Please put your jacket on the conveyor belt."
4th attempt – while we all (actually its only a 24 passenger plane at the most that we're trying to get on) wait patiently for the security people to do their job – I naively thought they were protecting us by keeping anyone from taking a gun (I guess) on the airplane.
Hey - Three cheers - No alarm! The guy in front of me has now successfully passed through the metal detector – and without setting off an alarm, which, as I said, was apparently the goal. Because, the next thing the security guard does is hand this guy his belt, his watch and . . . his jacket. Then he says, "Hmmm . . . must have been something in your jacket." – "Next please!" - – – My turn.
Safe and secure – Have a nice flight! Well, I did make it back to San Francisco.
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