A Fresh Take on Flying
In late fall 2004, a powerful rainstorm battered New England, reducing visibility and snarling travel. The storm struck on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, during the busiest travel period of the year, and flights at Boston's Logan International Airport were backed up. In response, one enterprising crew member at JetBlue Airways headquarters in Queens, New York, loaded airline staffers into his GMC Yukon SUV, and drove north through the gale to help out. The guy at the wheel? JetBlue's founder and chief executive, David Neeleman."You have got to be close to the action," says the 46-year-old entrepreneur. Action is something that there is certainly plenty of at JetBlue, the high-flying upstart that launched in the winter of 2000. Today it's one of the fastest growing airlines in the country, generating more than a billion dollars a year in revenue with 401 flights daily to 36 cities in the United States, Canada and the Caribbean. With a winning combination of financial acumen, old-fashioned common sense and devout religious faith, Neeleman has propelled JetBlue into the ranks of the nation's major airlines.
"He took the traditional business plan and threw it out the window," says NBC Today show travel editor Peter Greenberg, who has covered JetBlue since its start.
"Airlines have for so long treated people like they were an inconvenience," says Neeleman. "We want to eliminate all those aggravating things that drive you crazy." To do that, Neeleman got rid of confusing fare structures, overbooked flights, slow baggage delivery, and those awful inflight meals. He then added low fares, a user-friendly website for reservations, preassigned leather seats, individual DIRECTV (36 channels, and now pay-per-view movies too), and brand-name snacks.
But what really distinguishes Neeleman's brand is "an attitude that is not abusive," says Greenberg. "It is a difference you can feel."
JetBlue's customer commitment begins with a commitment to employees. "We show loyalty to our people," says Neeleman. "We've never laid off anyone -- and have no plans to."
All employees receive profit-sharing awards and are offered stock at discounted prices. "Customers will say to us, 'You're always so happy,'" says Debra Shea, a flight attendant who's worked for JetBlue for five years. "We're shareholders ourselves. We have an incentive to be happy and to make everybody happy." Neeleman (who has issued himself no new stock options since the company went public) donates his annual $200,000 salary to JetBlue's crew member crisis fund, available to employees facing extreme hardship.
He's also famous for working alongside employees, checking in passengers, serving drinks and handling baggage. He routinely flies on the jetliner, chatting with customers and passing on their feedback. "He's a mingler," says JetBlue executive vice president Tom Kelly.
In the early days, JetBlue's Airbus A320s had 27 rows of seats. Row 27 -- the very last one -- did not recline. Like a gracious host, Neeleman always chose that seat for himself when flying, sending a message to crew members that it's more important to keep customers happy than the CEO.
Egalitarian instincts are in his DNA. "I was raised in a home where my father was always for the underdog," says Neeleman, one of seven children. At age 20, Gary Neeleman, a journalist, worked with the poor in Brazil while on a Mormon mission. His son traveled to Brazil for missionary work of his own when he was 19. There, he developed an aversion to the notion that money, power or social class put any one person on higher ground. That thinking is at the core of JetBlue's brand identity: "No first-class seats, no second-class citizens."
Working in his grandfather's Salt Lake City grocery store as a boy, little David learned early what it takes to please a customer. "We would make these great sandwiches using the best bread and quality meat," Neeleman recalls. If a customer wanted an item that wasn't on hand, John Neeleman, the son of Dutch immigrants, would run out himself and buy it.
Neeleman has an ability to quickly evaluate what's important and what isn't for JetBlue. He attributes this skill to his self-diagnosed attention deficit disorder. When a member of his team brought him the satellite technology that enables his planes' seatback TVs, Neeleman's reaction was immediate: "That's it. That's what we want to do." He had the same response to the Web-based technology that allows JetBlue reservations clerks to work out of their homes.
To spend more time at his own home in a Connecticut suburb with his wife of 25 years, Vicki, and their children -- nine of them total, ages 6 to 24 -- Neeleman limits how long the business keeps him away. "Every night we get together and read some Scripture, so I try to make it home for that," he says. On Saturday, you're likely to find him shopping with the family at Costco or at his kids' soccer, basketball, lacrosse or football games. Sundays are for church activities and family dinner. "I think it's important to make sure that our kids are as normal as possible and don't feel they're somewhat superior just because their father has accomplished some things in life," he says.


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