Even when they finally hired her, Dana McCreary wasn't given a uniform. She just pieced something together from her own wardrobe, vaguely matching what the male pilots had been issued. After a year's probation, she suggested that it was about time a proper uniform were organized. So they sent her to a tailor in downtown Cleveland. He just exploded, waved his arms. "And what exactly am I supposed to do with you?" "I don't know," Dana said, shrugging. "They sent me here." But by that stage she was well accustomed...