We pushed back from the gate at 3:03 P.M. Eastern standard time, and we joined the queue of airplanes waiting for our turn to take off.
In our ears, Jeff and I heard the constant chatter on the party line of the LaGuardia Tower Air Traffic Control frequency. We were listening in and watching as airplanes took off and landed on the two intersecting runways at one of the nation’s busiest airports. As happens every day, it was a carefully choreographed ballet where everyone knew their parts exceedingly well.
At 3:20 P.M. and thirty-six seconds, the tower controller spoke to us: “Cactus fifteen forty-nine, LaGuardia, runway four position and hold, traffic will land three one.” The tower controller was instructing us to taxi onto the active runway and hold in position to await clearance for takeoff. He was also advising us that we would see traffic landing on the intersecting runway 31. (“Cactus” is the radio call sign for US Airways flights. The airline chose it after we combined with the former America West Airlines. Though it was adopted to preserve the heritage of America West, some pilots and controllers would prefer that we had kept our old call sign, “USAir,” to avoid confusion. Having a name that doesn’t match the name painted on the side of an airplane can be confusing, particularly at foreign airports.)
At 3:20:40, as I was taxiing, Jeff responded to the controller: “Position and hold runway four for Cactus fifteen forty-nine.”
We then sat on the runway for four minutes and fourteen seconds, listening to controllers and pilots trading concise esoteric exchanges such as “American three seventy-eight cleared to land three one, wind zero three zero, one zero, traffic will hold on four.” This was the tower controller clearing American Flight 378 to land on runway 31, telling him the wind was from the northeast at ten knots, and advising him that Jeff and I were holding in position on runway 4.
At 3:24:54, from controller to me and Jeff: “Cactus fifteen forty-nine runway four, cleared for takeoff.”
At 3:24:56, from me to controller: “Cactus fifteen forty-nine cleared for takeoff.”
On the runway, shortly after we started rolling, I said, “Eighty,” and Jeff answered, “Checked.” That was the airspeed check. Our language was exactly by the book.
Then I said, “V1,” an indication that I was monitoring the velocity of the airplane and that we had passed the point where we could abort our takeoff and still stop on the remaining portion of the runway. We were now obligated to continue the takeoff. A few seconds later, I said, “Rotate.” That was my callout to Jeff that we had reached the speed at which he should pull back on the sidestick, causing the aircraft to lift off. We were airborne and it was very routine.
At 3:25:44, from the controller to me and Jeff: “Cactus fifteen forty-nine, contact New York departure, good day.” We were being told that future communications for our flight were being handed off to the controller at New York Terminal Radar Approach Control, located on Long Island.
At 3:25:48, from me to the LaGuardia controller: “Good day.” To that point, my four-day trip had been completely unremarkable, and as with almost every other takeoff and landing I’d experienced in forty-two years as a pilot, I expected this flight to remain unremarkable.
We’d even made up a little time caused by the delays earlier in the day. So I was in a good mood. The Charlotte-San Francisco flight was still showing on time, and a middle seat was available. It looked like I’d make it home while Lorrie and the girls were still awake.
3. THOSE WHO CAME BEFORE ME
AS HUMAN ENDEAVORS go, aviation is a very recent one. The Wright brothers first flew in 1903. That’s just 106 years ago. I’m fifty-eight years old, and I’ve been flying for forty-two of those years. Aviation is so young that I’ve been involved in it for almost half of its history.
Through the efforts of many people in the past 106 years—their hard work, their practice, their engineering breakthroughs—aviation has quickly gone from its dangerous infancy to being so commonplace that there is little tolerance for any risk at all. We may have made it look too easy. People have forgotten what’s at stake.
I’m not saying passengers shouldn’t feel comfortable flying. It’s just that it’s easy to become complacent when our nation can sometimes go a year or two between major airline accidents involving fatalities. When things are going well, success can hide inefficiencies and deficiencies. And so it takes constant vigilance.
Long before I found myself in the cockpit of Flight 1549, I had closely studied other airline accidents. There is much to be learned from the experiences of pilots who were involved in the seminal accidents of recent decades. I have soberly paged through transcripts from cockpit voice recorders, with the last exchanges of pilots who didn’t survive.
I studied these accidents partly because, in the early 1990s, I had joined a couple dozen other US Airways pilots to help develop an air-safety course looking at CRM—crew resource management. Before Flight 1549, my proudest professional contribution was my work in CRM. My fellow facilitators and I helped change the culture of our airline’s pilot group by improving cockpit communication, leadership, and decision making. As First Officer Jeff Diercksmeier, my friend on the CRM team, said, “It was a time when a few people who really believed in what they were doing made a difference.”
My interest in air safety goes back to my first flights as a teenager. I’ve always wanted to know how some pilots handled challenging situations and made the best decisions. These were men and women worth emulating.
And so I tried to understand, intimately, the full stories behind each of these pilot’s actions. I’d ask myself: If I had been there, would I have been as successful?
A few years ago, I was invited to speak at an international conference in France focused on safety issues in a variety of industries. Given the comparatively ultrasafe record of commercial aviation, I was asked to appear on two panels to discuss how airline safety efforts might be transferable elsewhere. I talked about how other industries are recognizing that they can benefit by adopting some of our approaches.
This degree of safety requires tremendous commitment at every level of an organization and a constant diligence and vigilance to make it a reality.
Those of us who are pilots worry about the financial issues now weighing down airlines. Most passengers today select carriers based on price. If one airline’s fare is five dollars less than a competitor’s fare, the airline with the less costly ticket gets the booking. The net effect is that airlines are under intense pressure to lower their costs so they can offer competitive fares. This has cheapened the experience of flying; we’ve all seen the cutbacks in amenities offered in coach. But passengers don’t see other ways in which the airlines are cutting back. For instance, some of the smaller regional airlines have lowered the minimum requirements for pilot recruitment, and they’re paying some pilots $16,000 a year. Veteran pilots—those who have the experience that would help them in emergencies—won’t take these jobs.
I have 19,700 flight hours now. Back when I had, say, 2,000 or 4,000 hours of experience, I knew a lot of things, but I did not yet possess the depth of understanding I have now. Since then, I’ve sharpened my skills and learned from many situations that tested and taught me. Regional airlines will now take someone with 200 hours of flying experience and make him or her a first officer. These new pilots may have exceptional training, and they may have a high degree of ability. But it takes time, hour after hour, to master the science and art of flying a commercial jet.
Another issue: Airlines used to have more large hangars in which their planes were repaired and maintained by their own mechanics. The mechanics would overhaul component parts, radios, brakes, engines. They knew the specific parts and systems in each aircraft in their fleet. Now many airlines have outsourced their maintenance and component work. Are these outside mechanics as experienced and knowledgeable about a particular aircraft? If a part is sent overseas to be overhauled, does it come back as reliable?
It’s fair to say that when jobs are outsourced, and the work is done in a remote location, an airline has to work much harder to control the entire process, and to have the same level of confidence in the part or repair.
Every choice we in the airline industry make based solely on cost has ramifications and should be evaluated carefully. We have to constantly consider the unintended consequences for safety.
An airline accident is almost always the end result of a causal chain of events. If any one link was different,
