Terminal B’s time is up.
There is little sentiment for the old terminal at Bradley Airport. Like the old Channel 30 building, it opened in 1952, and while still useful, it had deteriorated into a relic completely devoid of charm.
The last commercial flight pulled out of the gate Wednesday night. You will now find American Airlines in Terminal A.
My wife flew American to Dallas on Tuesday. She called me from Terminal B, and I mentioned this would be her last flight from there. No more depressing decor, worn carpet, torn vinyl seats, and leaky ceilings. No more cramped bar with a few stools and an old tube television.
She reminded me that this was where many of our great adventures, including our honeymoon, originated from. And once upon a time, the old Cloud Nine Lounge was a pretty hot place to hang out. She decided it called for a final cocktail at that cramped little bar. I told her to have one for me, too.
She came home early this morning. On American. To Terminal A.
It’s about time. I’m looking forward to originating so many more great adventures from there.
The Brooks File 
When I watch the news, in a little corner of my mind, I wonder if Gerry’s going to blog about a particular story. When I saw the amount of coverage being given to Larry King’s upcoming divorce, I thought that might be the story I read about this morning on the blog. I’m so glad it wasn’t. This story is a nicer one to start the day with. I’m looking forward to reading about your new adventures that originate from Terminal A!
Ha! Larry King is too easy a mark. Once someone turns into a characiture of themselves, they’re toast.
“…it opened in 1952, and while still useful, it had deteriorated into a relic completely devoid of charm.”
Great description, Gerry, but how many of us (who “opened” in 1952, as well) fall into that same category: relics who are completely devoid of charm? Definitely not you! Thanks for another great read.
Susan, I came thisclose to going there, but I knew somebody would in a comment. Thank you, and right back atcha.
Nice post, Ger. I have some fond memories of that terminal. My first flight was out of there. In a snowstorm, heading for basic training in Texas. Talk about adventures. That one lasted four years, in the midst of the Vietnam War. And I recall seeing my parents off there. They’d never flown before, but decided to fly to California for a week.
First flights. Last flights. Farewell Terminal B.
Thanks Terry. I’m looking forward to having a civilized pre-departure cocktail on future trips.
Linda, I also wonder while watching the news what story Gerry will select to blog about- what is it that actually piques his journalistic intellectual interest.
(Speaking of another news item and going back to a post last week regarding Tiger Woods’ infamous Nike ad using his dad’s voice, it appears that was the final straw for Elin.)
Thank you.
I knew you were a “Cloud Nine” kind of guy!
We spent some great evenings there. I even remember a few…….and they validated parking!
Those were the days, Graham. Those were the days.
I’m very sad to see “her” go. When I was in high school, I was a short order cook at the coffee shop. Ruth Buzzi (from Laugh-In) used to love my western omelettes!. Ruth was originally from Meridan, and traveled thru BDL- often. During college I worked for Pilgrim Airlines as an Agent. It seems like yesterday( July 4,1974) when we started service from Bradley to Montreal. I can still remember writing Oakland A’s manger Dick Williams a ticket to N.Y.C. that same summer.
I also remember thinking people , my age-now, were old in 1974……….
See ya Terminal B!
Nice contribution. Thanks Bill.
I remember having dinner at The Terrace Room. My most recent memory was sitting with my son David as we waited for him to board his flight to boot camp (in Jan. 2002) @ Great Lakes. I was able to get special permission to go to the gate. The worst day of my life.
Sandi, thank you for checking in. I remember the Terrace Room, too.
Ah the Terrace Room! Had our Junior Prom “dinner” there back in ’65. Had my dad’s ’59 Chevy station wagon for the evening and thought we were so sophisticated as my date and I ate over done roast beef and watched the planes take off and land. Never realized I had worn my cumberbun(?) upside down the entire evening.
We had the ’60 wagon. You could impale yourself on the back of those things. But at least the designers had some imagination then.