I had performed just about all of the required flight instruction that was needed for a private pilot's license short of the three controlled takeoffs and landings as well as my night cross country flight. Doug decided it would be a good idea to incorporate both of those in one outing. I created a flight plan and set a course for Columbus Airport so I could perform my three controlled takeoff and landings. We left Newnan before dark and I never bothered to check the NOTAMS (AKA. Notice to Airmen) for the Newnan airport we just left. Again, for those not familiar with the aviation lingo, NOTAMS are a good source for information that one uses to find warnings, alerts or any other pertinent information along your route of flight. This would have been very helpful for this flight but my neglect had once again set me up for another learning experience.
We were twenty miles from Columbus when I needed to call air traffic control (or ATC) and let them know I was blessing their airspace with my presence.
Me: "Columbus approach, Cessna 1,2,3,4, Echo."
Approach: "Columbus approach, go ahead Three Four Echo."
Me: "We are inbound for landing 20 miles from the north at 3500 feet"
Approach: "Cessna Three Four Echo say type."
Me: "We are a 150."
Approach: "Ok Three Four Echo, squawk 0,1,7,6."
Me: "Squawk 0,1,7,6… Three Four Echo."
A squawk code is entered into the aircrafts transponder by direction of ATC so that they will see this code on their radar and know where you are located. It became apparent that ours wasn't working.
Approach: "Three Four Echo, you're not showing a transponder code, reset and ident please."
Me: "Roger, reset and ident…Three Four Echo"
Approach: "We are still not getting your I.D."
Me: "It appears that our transponder is inop at this time."
Approach: "Ok, is that you just east of Pine Mountain?"
Looking to the right I could see Pine Mountain's runway just off our wingtip.
Me: "That's affirmative."
Approach: "Three Four Echo, Do you have the runway in site?"
Me: "That's affirmative."
Approach: "Three Four Echo you're cleared for straight in approach on two three. Contact tower on 120.1." (Note: The runway heading is now two four due to a shift in the earths magnetic heading or something.)
Me: "Cleared straight in approach for two three and contact tower on 120.1… Three Four Echo."
For those of you who wondering why I repeat the instructions given by ATC, it is so that the controller knows I received the correct command and that I do not ruin his pleasant evening with an incursion of some sort. This is usually followed by a mountain of paperwork from both parties involved, and it comes highly recommended that you should avoid this with utmost diligence.
I tuned in the tower frequency on 120.1 and called for clearance to land.
Me: "Tower, Cessna Three Four Echo on straight in approach to land."
Tower: "Three Four Echo you're cleared to land two three."
Me: "Cleared to land two three… Three Four Echo."
Now, Doug was coaching me the whole time so it seamed that I had an idea of what was going on to the tower guys. In all actuality, I was nervous and had no clue as to what I was doing. We landed on two three and the tower called and had me exit on the first taxiway that I could safely make. Once off the runway the tower gave me a ground frequency and I was then asked if we were going to the general aviation ramp. We were not sure where we wanted to go, so the ramp sounded like a good enough place to us. I was then given instructions that went something like this.
Ground: Three Four Echo taxi Charlie, Delta, Delta-4 to ramp.
Me: Taxi Charlie, Delta, Delta-4 to ramp, Three Four Echo.
As we proceeded down taxiway Charlie it split with one route heading to the terminal and the other to taxiway Delta. Of course I started to go the wrong way and it didn't take long to find out.
Ground: "Three Four Echo, are going to the ramp?"
Me: "Uh, Yes Sir."
Ground: "Ok then you'll need to go left. You're heading to our terminal."
Me: "Uh, Ok thank you."
We had found taxiway Delta and had just turned onto Delta-4 when Doug said.
"This looks good here. Turn around and I'll get out."
"Why do you want out?" I said.
"Because, you have to do this on your own."
"Quit screwing with me. You're not getting out of this airplane. I'm still too stupid to do this on my own." I said.
"I'm not kidding. I have to get out."
As soon as I hit the left brake and the Cessna made its 180-degree turn I heard a severely irritated controller contact me.
Ground: "THREE FOUR ECHO! WHERE ARE YOU GOING SIR?"
Me: "Uh… Uh…"
Then Doug finally keyed the mike and said. "Sir, this is Three Four Echo. I have a student here that would like to perform his three controlled takeoff and landings."
This produced a whole new attitude from the controller.
Ground: "Ohhhh… Ok, let me know when your ready sir."
Doug: "Ok…thanks."
Then Doug looked over at me and said.
"Ok you're all set. Go ahead."
I just sat there and watched him close the door and back out of the way. What a terrible feeling that was. I mustered up what little courage I had and called the controller back.
Me: "Ground, Three Four Echo…Uh…is ready to taxi."
Ground: "Ok. Turn left where you're at and go to the firehouse up on your left and turn left. Ok?"
Me: "Ok."
Ground: "Then proceed to the end of the taxiway and wait there until the tower tells you it's OK to take the runway."
Me: "Ok."
When I made it to the end I stopped and ground had me switch to the tower frequency.
Me: Tower Cessna Three Four Echo holding short of two three for three takeoffs and landings."
Tower: Cessna Three Four Echo you are cleared to take off two three, closed pattern… Piper Nine One Bravo, you're cleared to land two three."
Piper Nine One Bravo: Cleared to land two three…Piper Nine One Bravo."
Now I was sure I heard him give me the takeoff clearance but I got confused after he cleared Piper aircraft to land right after that. I was still holding short when I had to ask him again.
Me: "Uh… Tower, did I understand Three Four Echo is cleared to takeoff?"
Tower: "Cleared to takeoff closed pattern."
By this time the landing Piper was on final and I was really uncomfortable about rolling out in front of him.
Me: "Can I wait until the other plane lands?"
Tower: "Cessna Three Four Echo, hold short for aircraft on final."
Me: "Holding short, Three Four Echo."
After the other plane landed I was cleared once again to go. I turned onto the runway and took off. As I was climbing out, I was waiting for some kind of clearance to enter the downwind and wondering how far they were going to let me go before they had me turn. It was then that I received a call from the Tower.
Tower: "Three Four Echo, are you gonna stay in the pattern with us today?" (Followed by chuckles.)
Me: "Oh, I was waiting for some kind of vectors or something."
Tower: (While laughing) "Your cleared left crosswind."
Me: "Ok. I think I got it now."
I finally figured out what closed pattern meant and started flying a normal pattern for landing on two three. When I was abeam of the tower they called and cleared me to land. I set up for a base and final and landed without incident. Two more of those and I would be able to quit dirtying up their airspace with my ignorance.
On my last landing was directed to the general aviation ramp to pick up my instructor. By then it was good and dark so we didn't waist any time leaving to complete the night cross country flight. I asked for taxi clearance to the active and was given directions this time to runway five. After takeoff the controller released us from ATC control so we were back on our own for the rest of the flight.
Flying at night is a beautiful experience yet somewhat frightening as well. Flying low over the city lights has the lower wing illuminated spreading an iridescent glow throughout the soft red atmosphere within the cabin. Looking down through the windows you can see the lights twinkling through the trees like millions of tiny stars oddly spread out below you rather than above. There are no thermals after dark giving the plane an incredibly smooth ride. You can barely hear the engine faintly change its tune as it passes though the subtle changing air current, yet you're not really sure if your engine is surging or it's just the wind. Subconsciously you find yourself looking around trying to spot a potential landing site should the engine fall quiet.
We were flying a VOR route back to Newnan and all was going well. Up ahead in the night shadows we could see the green and white airport beacon calling us home. We were inbound at eight miles when I heard a Cessna 310 call its departure and I announced my arrival intentions to avoid a conflict. I entered the downwind for 32 and started looking out the left window for the runway. Below were lines of pretty blue lights but I couldn't seem to find the white ones that outline the runway. To my horror I realized that the runway lights were completely out. It wasn't just a few lights either it was all of them. I lined up on final approach using the PAPI (or Precision Approach Path Indicator) lights and an imaginary line where the taxi lights stopped. We were descending into a very dark hole that was growing in front of us every second. At night, all reference to forward momentum vanishes leaving you without a sense of airspeed. As we descended into the ever-growing abyss of darkness I would check my instruments for speed, altitude and confirm my glide slope using the PAPI lights. Just when I passed the PAPI lights I saw the runway illuminate off my right wing and I firewalled the throttle to go around and shoot the approach again. The next time I had the runway lined up and when the centerline appeared just to the left of the airplane I slid over to make one of my best landings to date. Needless to say, I learned that there are NOTAMS for a reason and I now use them.
It was July 2001, my little girl had recently turned a year old and I was finishing up my flight training and getting ready for my private pilot exam. Doug and I were practicing and honing my newfound flight skills so that I could impress the examiner with my knowledge and ability. As I studied and practiced my flying, the days slowly drifted into September and just when it was nearing the time to make an appointment with the examiner, the eleventh day arrived. Needless to say, the same despicable actions committed this day that crippled the airline industry and grounded general aviation for months, also ruined any chance of a private pilot certificate in my near future.
It wasn't until November when the skies were released for VFR flight and to celebrate the occasion a local private strip hosted a fly-in with the promise of food and fun. It turned out to be a beautiful day that brought in a massive amount of small aircraft. I took my plane down in the "bones" to show off the uncovered airframe and set it up at show center for viewing. I was amazed at how many people stopped to look, ask questions and marvel at how rinky-dink these airplanes look without covering. There was an incredible amount of interest from people that have never seen what the basic airframe looks like on a fabric-covered aircraft. There was one guy in particular that was really interested in the plane. He asked many questions and informed me that he had flown in with his Moni Motorglider. For those that are not familiar with the Moni, it's a sleek all metal, single seat airplane with a small "V" tail that is powered by the Rotax 447. The airplane is very fast with the 447 and, as the name would imply, has a long wing providing excellent lift for gliding. The pilot reclines in a cramped cockpit with a large canopy that seems too big for the airplane. After our brief little chat and while I was busy answering a new line of questions from other people, I noticed that the Moni was screaming down the runway on its takeoff roll. It was Cub yellow in color with the small blurred disk of the prop spinning along inches off the ground. I could see that he was airborne, although barely, as the centerline undercarriage was dancing above the well trimmed bermuda sod. The airplane coolly whistled past us with the distinctive whine of its Rotax engine as the airplane easily cut the friction of the afternoon air. I watched as the airplane pulled into an effortless climb while turning left for the pattern, setting up for a return pass down the runway. During this time a lady and her young son had approached me with a few questions and while we were talking I put her son into the cockpit so he could play fighter pilot. We both watched as the Moni again approached from the west in a fast, low, and silent engine off gliding pass down the runway. The pilot then initiated his climb and as the plane started to decelerate near the end of the runway we could see the prop start to spin indicating an engine restart. Again, he would reenter the pattern but for the last time. During his last pass I was explaining something to the little fighter pilots mom when, with her right arm stretched full and pointing skyward, she shrieked "Oh. Look at that." I swung around, following the imaginary line from her extended arm, and witnessed the Moni pull into a vertical climb at show center. The Moni bled off a lot of speed in the vertical maneuver and at an altitude of roughly 100 feet the airplane started to pull over inverted for what appeared to be an attempt at an Immelman or half Cuban Eight. By this time the airspeed was next to nothing. Although still inverted, the nose of the Moni started to rise and in an instant the airplane snap rolled one and a half times to the right and then violently pitched straight down. I knew this guy was in trouble and tried to warn the lady about what she was going to witness. All I could muster in my shock was a heartless sounding, "Oh man. He's gone." The nose then proceeded to pull up again but the plane again suddenly snapped right confirming my worst fears. Now I knew he was not going to make it and when she questioned my previous statement I could only repeat myself with a solemn "He's gone". The plane impacted the ground, about 150 feet in front of us, in a near vertical dive with a heart wrenching and horrifying thud. From our viewpoint we had an unobstructed view of the right side of the plane and watched as the pilot came though the shattered canopy while still somewhat attached to the belts. It's amazing how far a seat belt will stretch in an incident such as this. Time seemed to slow as though we were watching crash footage in slow motion video. When the pilot came out of the plane we could clearly see his rag doll figure impact the ground in front of the plane and then as the Moni started to settle back, tail down in an upright position, it violently drew him back into the cockpit with his shattered limbs and torso viciously tossing about. As soon as everything stopped moving the lady looked at me with horrified eyes, both hands over her mouth and with a muffled whimper asked. "Is he?" I just shook my head with a sober negative gesture. With that she scooped her child out of the cockpit and ran away sobbing with grief.
Meanwhile, a massive outbreak of shock took over the spectators. A literal sea of people started running across the runway toward the crash site with complete disregard for incoming aircraft. There was a tail dragger on landing roll and he was dangerously close to nosing over while trying to break for people on the runway. The Moni had impacted 20 feet from a house and the homeowner that was standing on his driveway watching the whole thing calmly pulled a tarp from his garage and covered the deceased pilot mere seconds after the accident. There was no post crash fire and for such a violent impact the airframe was surprisingly intact.
After the accident I naturally didn't have too many people showing interest in my plane anymore, so I started to disassemble the airplane and load it back onto the trailer. I couldn't seem to take my mind off the fact I was mere feet from a fatal accident while calmly dismantling my own aircraft. A solemn yet unexplainable curiosity found me gravitating to the crash site after the pilot's tortured body was removed from the wreckage. Silent and softly I stepped around the plane as though one navigates around any well-manicured cemetery plot. There sitting a few feet from the plane was his still functioning, although badly battered, Garman Pilot III GPS, accurately marking his final destination in life. Looking down on the unit, while fixating on the gray and black message screen, I began to reflect on how this experience was going to affect my love for flight. Witnessing this type of horror had me thinking about my family and wondering if I was doing the right thing by building my own aircraft. I didn't want my family to suffer the kind of horror that this man's family was suddenly subjected to. The whole ordeal inspired the following poem.
A Terrible Tragedy
One sometimes has to wonder,
What takes people to the air.
I've heard it often spoken that,
"God doesn't want us there."
But ever since two brothers,
Who had shown what could be done.
With a wood and fabric aircraft,
They fought the bonds of earth and won.
This enlighten the imaginations,
Of both people young and old.
Who had longed to soar with flight,
And to view what birds behold.
It has been a century past,
Since the brothers flew that flight.
Where they barely broke the ground,
Our planes now fly high from sight.
It's now known as aviation,
And it consumes ones thoughts and dreams.
Once touched by this excitement,
You'll find there's no escape, it seems.
We can build our own airplanes,
And will take them to the air.
And once that we break ground,
There's few sensations that compare.
But there are no guaranties,
That all flights will go your way.
And that's just what I had witnessed,
On one very tragic day.
Can I say what really happened?
Would it be fair to speculate?
I will only know for sure,
That it had truly sealed his fate.
I met this person earlier,
On the day of his last flight.
His love for aviation,
Had surly come to light.
He would talk about his aircraft.
One you knew he loved to fly.
How would anyone have known,
That today this man would die.
It kind of makes one wonder,
If you'll suffer his same fate.
On the day you have a problem,
Will for you it be to late?
But for now you just reflect,
And make sense of what you see.
And try hard to keep your family,
From that kind of tragedy.
Yes, flight is in our blood.
But have we had it since our birth?
Not sure but it will be there,
Until God takes us from this earth.
I'll continue with my life,
In flight is where I long to be.
I was just another witness,
To a terrible tragedy.
Goodbye Jim
