When the government started to oversee aviation in 1958, hijacking wasn’t technically a crime. The early design of airport terminals reflected this. Airports were more like train stations. You walked through the terminal and onto the tarmac, and sometimes straight onto the plane itself, without flashing a ticket or showing anyone your identification.
Then in 1961, an epidemic of hijackings began.
The first wave of hijackers all wanted passage to Cuba. May 1, 1961, was the first American hijacking, perpetrated by Antulio Ramirez Ortiz, an electrician in Miami. Ramirez got on a Key West–bound flight, held a knife to the pilot’s throat, and announced that he had been approached to assassinate Fidel Castro, and wanted to go to Havana to warn him.
In the second phase, the skyjackers broadened their horizons to more distant lands. There were skyjackers like Raffaele Minichiello, an Italian-American Marine who hijacked a plane from Los Angeles to Rome. He was hailed as a hero upon landing and served only 18 months in prison; the Italians refused to extradite him. Minichiello was a good-looking guy, and actually ended up with a role in a spaghetti Western film.
All the while, hijacking wasn’t considered a serious threat by airlines or passengers. It was more of an inconvenience than anything else. The passengers assumed that if the plane was hijacked, they would simply be flown down to Havana, where the hijacker would be taken off of the plane. Maybe they’d have to spend the night in Havana. Maybe they could catch a show and buy some cigars and rum and have a good story to tell back in the United States.
