Friday, January 16, 2009

"Real American Hero"

When was the last time an airliner landed in a river? Have you ever seen a jet with pontoon landing gear? I didn't think so.

The mention of a large, commercial jetliner in trouble still makes Americans' blood run cold. The events of September 11th, 2001 live on in the corners of our minds, and between the National Threat Level and President #43 continuing to warn us of the boogey man (even on his way out the door), we can't help but to get wide-eyed and goosebumped if something goes awry in the friendly skies.

So when Flight 1549 was reported as landing in a river, we all got nervous (M I RIGHT?). And when the reports came out the next day that everyone survived, we were incredulous. The nearly-blind governor of New York called it a 'miracle on the Hudson' ; I saw the plane floating in the water, and I still can't come up with a more impressive way to describe the outcome.

How miraculous is it really?

  1. Aircraft are designed (to a very small degree) to float on water. I haven't talked to anyone at Boeing, but hey - flight safety cards show planes floating just like Flight 1549 did in real life. So it's not totally unexpected that the plane didn't sink right away. People had plenty of time to get out, and had the water been 85 degrees, we might have seen a beach ball or two.
  2. The actual impact of the plane with the water is probably the most crucial point of survivability, which is almost completely attributable to the pilot (more about him later). The body of the plane is somewhat boat-like: the front of the plane looks like the prow of an inflatable boat, and the fuselage and wings are smooth. Assuming the pilot splashed down with his landing gear up, the only things that would really drag the plane underwater are the wing-mounted engines. There's no doubt in my mind that a water landing is a violent and destructive landing; however, with the right angle of attack and slow enough airspeed, it seems logical to conclude that landing on water would not result in complete destruction of the aircraft.
  3. The birdstrike happened during takeoff. The plane was at a sufficient speed to maintain velocity, and both passengers and crew were still buckled in. There wasn't a mad panic to get back to seats, stow luggage, etc. People were still mentally alert (I never see people sleep during takeoff or landing), and were warned in time to "brace themselves." I'm going to say that the timing of the accident significantly reduced injuries.
  4. Pilots are trained for emergency situations. At least, I assume they are. Why wouldn't they be? There's a stereotype that flying in the 1950's and 60's was glamorous, and that to be an airline pilot was to be among an elite cadre of professionals with reactions and instincts superior to those of mortal men. Despite the annual "Drunk Airline Pilot Arrested" headline, aren't these men (and women!) still a talented and well-trained group of individuals? I can't help but think that pilots are required to spend time in simulators, practicing the skills that help them deal with birdstrikes and water landings.
  5. Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger III. This guy has it all:
  • Former Air Force Fighter Pilot
  • Been flying for more than 40 years
  • President and CEO of Safety Reliability Methods Inc., "which provides emergency management, safety strategies and performance monitoring to the aviation industry"
  • Instructor and Air Line Pilots Association safety chairman, accident investigator and national technical committee member
  • Participated in several U.S. Air Force and National Transportation Safety Board accident investigations, and worked with NASA scientists on a paper on error and aviation
  • "speaks internationally on airline safety, and collaborates with the Center for Catastrophic Risk Management at the University of California-Berkeley, whose researchers look for ways to avoid air disasters"
"The final moments of the flight were watched with admiration by Ben Vonklemperer, who was on a conference call on the 25th floor of an office building in Times Square at 3:31 p.m., when he looked up. "If someone's going to land a plane in the water, this seemed the best possible way to do it," he said. "The way they hit, it was very gradual. A very slow contact with the water."

The pilot knew what he was doing and had sufficient control of the aircraft.

So basically there's a decent chance the plane will float if it can land correctly on the water. An ex-fighter pilot with 40+ years experience on the stick is driving the plane. People were mentally aware of the current situation. Assuming Sully had basic control (e.g. flaps and wing surfaces responded, perhaps one engine was still functional), what could go fatally wrong? Sure, there's chances for injury and accident, but what's left?

Drowning and hypothermia. My answer to that? The ferries of the Port Authorities of New Jersey and New York. They immediately suspended service and their crews started throwing life preservers in the water. Plane passengers could crawl through emergency exits onto the wings of the plane. In addition to all of this, the Hudson river splits one of the highest population centers in the U.S. - Coast Guard, police, and fire rescue were all on the scene relatively fast. If this plane had landed in the Mississippi River, it would have taken far longer for rescue boats to arrive in sufficient numbers.

So far, I'm making it sound like success is a foregone conclusion. We don't have miracles any more - the Red Sea doesn't part, bushes don't burn without charring - yet the governor of New York is right: this was a miracle. A plane landed in a place it wasn't supposed to, in a way it wasn't supposed to, in as perfect a way as could be. Why is that?

Because a hero was flying the plane.

Granted, he was the perfect guy for the job. He had all the skills and experience to pull off a landing like this (not to mention the extra credit of being involved in safety and risk assessment). But what does it take to be a hero today? Hell, what are the attributes of a hero? Off the top of my head, valiance, self-sacrifice, and being a decent guy all come to mind.

It sounds like Sully is a smart guy who doesn't beat his wife and doesn't hate his kids. So decent guy is checked off.

Merriam calls "valliance" (aka valor): : strength of mind or spirit that enables a person to encounter danger with firmness : personal bravery.

How do you get that strength of mind? Either through ego and cockiness, or by repeatedly practicing something. The personal bravery thing, though - that's all him. He might have crapped his pants and been shaky on the stick, but he put the plane down softly when it should have crashed hard. That's sheer steel. (I think more of us have it than we realize: but we're afraid of it, we're afraid of what we can do with it, and we're afraid of what showing it to other people might do to our relationships.)

The self-sacrifice one is really what makes Sully a hero to me. After the plane had been evacuated, he stayed aboard and went up and down the aisle twice to make sure everyone got out. Yeah, he probably new the odds of the plane being a boat were pretty good, but c'mon. Sully, you just landed a jet in a river. You have a copilot. Delegate that crap off to him!

We don't get pillars of fire and smoke any more.
Our modern-day miracles aren't legend or myth. They're flesh and blood, steel and concrete. Athletes can pull loaded dump trucks and jetliners one hundred feet unaided. Building are half a mile high. Communications are instant, no matter the location on the globe. We can even drive little robots around on another planet with millimeter-level accuracy.

We live in an era of miracles, superheroes, and wonder, and take it all for granted. Why? Is it because they're everyday occurrences? Is it because they're immediately accessible to just about all of us?

Or is it because they're man-made? Does it matter that miracles are now in the hand of man, and not in the realm of the divine?

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