By now you have read or seen news footage of Flight 1549. The pilot reported a double 'bird strike' and dumped the plane in the Hudson River after the engines failed. All aboard survived with no major injuries.
My mother called me yesterday morning and asked me if I'd been following the story. I said I had paid a little attention to it. She, apparently, was keeping a close eye on the story because it reminded her of our own near miss years before. I agreed it sounded similar.
Twenty something years ago - I can't remember the exact year but I was young enough to still go on Spring Break with my mom. I was probably a freshman in high school - a plane that we were on had a bird fly into the engine. My mother saved a few dollars by having us fly first to Newark before continuing on to Florida to visit my grandmother. (Does that make sense? We flew from Baltimore north to Newark to then fly south to Florida.)
Anyway, we were leaving for Spring Break, it was my mom, Bert, and I. We flew to Newark without incident. It was at the beginning of the second leg of our trip when our close call happened.
I remember that it was a larger jet; with a middle section of 4 or 5 seats and then an aisle on either side plus those side sections near the windows. I believe my mother was sitting in the middle, my brother and I on either side. Bert was in a world of his own. He was listening to his headphones and completely ignoring my mom and myself. I was reading a book as we taxied away from the terminal, but I folded it in my lap for take off. I always do. I love the take offs.
So there we are getting ready to leave Newark. We're cleared for take off. We charge the runway. The front wheel lifts off the ground. Suddenly the left engine explodes, and a trail of flames shoots past the windows towards the tail. The plane shudders and the pilot's voice is on the intercom telling everyone to remain calm and hold on. The plane brakes and our front wheel lands on the ground as we safely come to a full stop.
My mother tells Bert, who has missed the entire thing whilst jamming on his Walkman, to take the headphones off in case we need to evacuate the plane. Bert is clueless; he's missed the whole thing. The pilot is talking again explaining what he believes to have happened, 'bird strike', and then we taxi back to the terminal to switch aircrafts. Our second plane takes off without incident and when we land in Florida, with a few less passengers than we started off with, there was a rousing round of applause for a safe arrival.
I gave my mother grief the entire vacation and for years afterwards. "I'm glad we were almost killed in a plane crash so you could save a few bucks!" The funny thing is that I remember how scary it was at the time, and I can't get on a plane without thinking about it. Now, I don't wake up at night in cold sweats, and I still enjoy flying, but as I sit there in my seat with my book folded in my lap and the plane is rocketing down the runway, that night in Newark is always on my mind.
Apparently it happens all the time but most engines are designed to withstand a 4 pound bird strike; not a comforting number considering that Canadian Geese can way three times as much. This is a story I've told many times before. It's one of those stories that as I'm narrating it I often get the feeling that the listener thinks I'm full of crap. It's not the most exciting story but it is what it is.
The nominees for the Washington Area Theatre Community Honors Awards have been announced and I am proud to say the 'Hauptmann', the play I did this past Spring, has received several nominations. The nominations include best leading actor, best featured actor, best director, and best play of the year. I am proud of this production, and my fellow cast & crew. I am happy to see our work getting some recognition.
