Driving home after receiving the letter, Ms Zammit, 57, wondered to herself: “How did we get to this again?

"I walked out of the building and, you know, you always say things like 'I can't wait to retire'. But I walked out with such a heavy heart," she said.

“Work has become more than a career, it’s what I know. Co-workers are like family members. Quite often we’re together for our Easters and our Christmases and our celebrations. I’m not ready to stop work. I love going to work. I love to see my friends. I love meeting new people."

She and her colleagues knew Virgin was struggling, but the mounting losses, never hidden from employees, always came with a positive spin, she said.

She could see the business getting better under new chief executive Paul Scurrah. She appreciated what she saw as a renewed focus on employees and customers above raw numbers. She thought things would turn around and everyone in her circle believed it too.

The shock of Ansett taught Ms Zammit to live within her means because, she said, "how secure is anything in life?"

Virgin’s board of directors appointed Deloitte as its voluntary administrator last week after failing to secure an emergency $1.4 billion loan from the federal government.

Close to 10,000 direct jobs like Ms Zammit's – and a further 6000 indirect jobs – hang in the balance.

The difference from the dark days of Ansett is that Virgin is in administration, not liquidation.

Ms Zammit is among the lucky and experienced few who have been recalled as part of the airline’s skeleton staff as it battles to keep its head above water just long enough for the skies to reopen.

There is hope, but the uncertainty is heavy. Heavier than in 2001. At least back then there were options.

I’m nearly 58. I'm a female. I've been in that building [Melbourne Airport] since the 1980s. So, where do I take my skills?

Patricia Zammitt, a long-term staffer at Ansett and Virgin

“If you wanted to, you could go and change careers – work was out there,” Ms Zammit said. “Now, during this pandemic, it's a totally different ball game.

“I’m nearly 58. I'm a female. I've been in that building [Melbourne Airport] since the 1980s. So, where do I take my skills? All the airlines are bleeding. They're all in the same boat, so they're not going to hire me.”

Like in 2001, Ms Zammit has farewelled tearful colleagues. She worries again for the trainee pilots fresh out of school, now watching careers stall before they have even begun. She worries for the industry which in 34 years she helped build into something more than the domain of the white collar and wealthy.

“We’ve given families the opportunity to take the kids to Disneyland,” she said. “Or to take the families over for weddings in Bali. You used to pick up the phone to speak to your nanna in Queensland for her birthday. Now you can get a flight.

“So, you know, what [Virgin] has contributed to this country far outweighs what they're asking in the sense of a loan. I think this is the big thing that everybody's lost.

“This is a moment. I say this quite frankly: this is a moment for Scott Morrison, Josh Frydenberg and the federal government. Had the Labor Party been in, would we have the money? I don't know.”

The Australian government has consistently called for a market-based solution to Virgin's problems and points to the deep pockets of Virgin's international shareholders.

For now, Ms Zammit and the thousands like her wait and hope.