Spoken like a true scab—bitter, self-righteous, and completely blind to the damage you did.

You crossed the line before I was even born, but your actions echo through the industry to this day—not as some noble stand for your “family,” but as a disgraceful act of selfishness that every union pilot remembers. You didn’t “do what was right.” You stepped over thousands of pilots who had families just like yours—pilots who chose integrity over a paycheck and sacrifice over self-preservation. You gambled on a corrupt CEO, and when he lost, you blamed the union instead of looking in the mirror.

And now you want to preach about a national seniority list? The same list you would have sabotaged if it meant getting one number higher? You think ALPA destroyed Eastern? Frank Lorenzo destroyed Eastern. You scabbed for him. You helped him. And now you’re mad the union pilots wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms after you danced on their careers? The cognitive dissonance is staggering.

You say no EAL pilots made it out? Funny—I’ve flown with plenty. Real professionals. Real captains. Real brothers. They went on to have long, respected careers at the majors—because they stood for something. Meanwhile, you’re still out here clinging to your little corner of relevance, getting pats on the back from people who’ve never held a control column.

You call yourself “Captain”—but let’s be honest: you’re a ferry pilot with a title you never earned. Captain isn’t a seat. It’s a symbol of leadership and respect. And no union pilot I know would follow you down the jetway, let alone into the flight deck.

You are not the voice of reason. You’re the ghost of betrayal. A walking cautionary tale of what happens when ego outweighs honor. Enjoy the fleeting attention from people who don’t know better—because in every crew room, jumpseat, and union hall, your name is a punchline, and your legacy is a warning.

You chose the title SCAB. You earned it. And you’ll carry it the rest of your life.