Emergency Landing

Emergency Landing

When I entered the hangar I stopped to look at that slightly bent 737. They had removed the carcass of the starboard engine and supporting pylon; they also removed the port wing tip.

My crew and I are being escorted to the north end of the building and into a good sized room filled with people. The NTSB hearing room is really a court of inquiry. A place to lay blame. But what happened was a mechanical failure; no one was to blame. The incident was four months ago and the NTSB investigators are just now looking at me to answer their questions.

The head of the committee, Bob Tailor, is first to speak, “Let it be recorded that present are Captain John Burgeon, Captain Mark Spencer and flight attendants Susan Calicci and Harry Lee. All crew of Orion flight 34.

“Captain Burgeon, on May 12th, you were the pilot of Orion Air flight 34 out of Paterson to Toronto; and Mark Spencer was your Co-pilot, is that correct?”

For a moment I stare at the microphone in front of me... “Yes sir.”

Tailor never looks up, “Before roll out and during takeoff did you notice any malfunction in the engine or surface controls?”

“No sir. Preflight inspection and engine run up was all normal. V1, V2 and rotation were all normal.”

He finally looks up and pushes his glasses up onto his balding head. “Please explain to the panel what happened from the time of the failure forward.”

I've been thinking about this every day since and the sequence of events are clear in my head. “Mr. Tailor. We had a normal take off and began our clime to altitude. Post take off checklist was complete and we had completed our turn toward Toronto.”

“It was twenty minutes into the flight when we heard the bang and high pitched twang of metal tearing through metal. The sound reverberated through the air-frame; it was unmistakable. I'd heard that only once before during Desert Storm; when I was shot down flying recon just north of Kuwait. As your post inspection of the aircraft indicated, it was a compressor failure that destroyed the starboard engine. It also crippled a portion of the hydraulics.”

Tailor interrupted, “Then without hydraulics, you had no control?”

“No, we did have control... It was a strange failure. Every time we used the control surfaces, we lost hydraulic fluid from a damaged line over the starboard engine.”

Tailor seems annoyed, “Proceed with your narrative.”

“We declared the emergency and decided to return to Paterson. We put the aircraft in a slow turn, being careful not to stress the controls too much. We dumped fuel, put the wheels down and extended the flaps.”

Mr. Tailor seems confused, “Why did you do that, you were twenty minutes from Paterson?”

“We didn't know how much reserve fluid was left in the system. We couldn't take the chance... losing control on final would have been a disaster. At this time we were informed that we were trailing thick black smoke from the starboard engine which would indicate fire. We had no fire warning but we activated the fire suppression anyway. Now we were trailing a white mist... it could only have been fuel.”

“We reduced altitude to three thousand feed and airspeed to one fifty knots. Halfway through that wide turn Spence started looking for another place to land; but there was nothing. We were bleeding fuel and hydraulic fluid at such a rate that we didn't know if we could even make the airport.”

“What in Gods name told you to land a 737 on Route 80 at rush hour.”

As illogical as it sounded, it was our only option. “Sir, when we finally came about and was pointed east at our destination, route 80 was right under us. Most of it is eight lanes wide with a wide center mall and it was morning; the west bound lanes had less traffic.”

“Just how did you expect to get the drivers off the road?”

“Well, if you're driving down the road and see a large two engine airliner with it's wheels down descending directly at you; I'd think you'd move over too.”

Tailor shakes his head, “Go on...”

“We reduced speed to almost a stall and slowly glided it low over the astonished drivers; who were pulling off the highway, left and right. We could see quite some distance and on touch down the road was cleared. We cut the remaining engines power and continued the roll out. All was going well until our port wingtip collided with something and spun us into the woods.”

“Except for some bumps and bruises and a bunch of angry but healthy drivers the aircraft was the only victim.”

Sternly Tailor says, “Yes but by taking the action you took, you put your passengers, crew and God knows how many on the ground at risk.” Then he holds up a thin manila folder to the audience and announces. “But, upon the post crash mechanics report, you would not have had enough hydraulic fluid or fuel to make Paterson.” He then looks at me. “You have anything to add?”

“Well... I guess... If I had a river instead of road, things would have been different.”

W/C = 894