Tampa International Airport (KTPA) is one of three Class B airports in Florida. Both Orlando and Miami serve more passengers per year, but Tampa is holding its own.
While attending a recent conference in the main terminal building I found myself distracted by activity going on the other side of massive floor to ceiling glass walls that hemmed me in, so I wandered out onto a second-floor patio to get a closer look.
KTPA is designed as a hub and spoke facility. A 298-room Marriott hotel connects to the main terminal building via a long hallway. The terminal itself is home to a wide variety of shops and restaurants familiar to travelers. Some are open 24 hours — a convenience that can’t be overstated for those who find themselves up and about in the wee hours of the morning.
Extending out from the main building are multiple concrete spurs, each providing a dedicated path for trams to move freely back and forth between the terminal and the gates surrounding it. This free-flowing traffic allows an average of 60,000 passengers a day to board or deplane and still find their way to baggage claim with a minimum of fuss and bother.
This isn’t just a people mover setup. This is the first. Built in 1971 it was then considered to be futuristic in its design and implementation. Today, this method of moving human beings between buildings is the accepted standard.
This place was truly visionary in concept and execution.
As I enjoyed my cup of coffee on the covered patio, reveling in the shade Floridians so deeply appreciate, I noted a crew of workmen placing steel beams on a structure across the way. I could see with my own eyes yet another section of the airport growing larger and more productive.
The Tampa International Airport we see today is not the Tampa Airport of old. Not by a long shot.
The sights and sounds surrounding me caused my mind to wander, as it so often does. My thoughts settled on Lt. Drew, a man I met just once, years ago. A member of what Tom Brokaw described as The Greatest Generation, Drew was a bomber pilot in World War II serving in the United States Army Air Forces.
As was the case for so many, Drew’s aircraft was shot down on a mission. As a result he found himself a guest of the Luftwaffe in Stalag Luft 3 along with thousands of other downed fliers.
It was not a happy time.
When I met him decades later, he was cheerful, outgoing, friendly, and sharp as a whip. He told me his story, or at least as much of it as we had time to share in our limited time together. Of the many things he shared, one fact stuck out as I stood in the midst of that bustling airport sipping coffee, surrounded by masses of humanity.
Drew learned to fly here. Right here on this ground. Of course it wasn’t called Tampa International Airport in those days. It was known as Drew Field, in honor of the man who owned the land. That man was Drew’s father, John.
To put this in perspective, 100 years ago the place we recognize as Tampa International Airport, one of the largest, busiest airports in Florida, was nothing more than a strip of grass on a farm. Tampa’s population at that time was roughly equivalent to the number of passengers Tampa International sees on a daily basis today. The city grew along with the airport.
Perhaps there is a connection between those two things.
As the first airmail delivery flew into Drew Field in the mid-1920s, aviation was new to the public. The aircraft were minimally capable of flight. Powerplant development, navigational instrumentation, and creature comfort had a long way to go. Anyone who has ever flown a Piper Cub knows that to be true. And the Cub was developed a full decade after these first pseudo-airliners arrived on the scene.
Passenger service was introduced to Tampa by Florida Airways, an outfit co-owned by World War I ace Eddie Rickenbacker. It flew the Stout AT-2, a single engine beast that was as unattractive as an airplane could be. In its favor, it was the first all metal airplane certified in the United States. That was understandably a point of great pride to those who flew aboard them.
Florida Airways didn’t last long. But failure in the short term doesn’t necessarily lead to failure in the longer term. The company’s assets and personnel went on to lay the groundwork for two new airlines. Eastern and United — one long gone, the other still kicking all these years later.
What we see as antiquated and quaint now was seen as a true marvel of technology in its day. Keep in mind this was all happening in a time when electricity was in a minority of homes in Tampa and the idea of air-conditioning was little more than a rumor. Many streets downtown were paved in brick. Outside the city limits virtually all roads were still dirt and would be for years to come.
It’s undeniable that Tampa’s infatuation with flight came about as a result of the first scheduled air service crossing Tampa Bay a decade before in 1914. The future had arrived.
City leadership merely needed to recognize it, buy and build facilities to support it, and begin to reap the benefits of their vision, which they did. The Tampa metro area is now home to nearly 3 million people. The Tampa Bay Regional Planning Council pegs their economic output at more than $32 billion.
I wonder how much the airport had to do with that growth? And that’s to say nothing of the added value of Peter O. Knight Airport and Tampa Executive, both of which serve the general aviation market.
In 100 years will we have hobbled or even torn down these historic drivers of economic development in the name of fighting climate change? Or will cooler heads prevail? Will enough of us realize that if a farmer’s field can become a thriving international hub of economic benefit, if a Stout AT-2 could be replaced by an Airbus A-320, perhaps the future is much brighter, cleaner, quieter, and more prosperous than most of us can even imagine.
It’s certainly possible.
Great story!