Some thoughts on the Kobe Bryant helicopter crash: sad, sickening, and I feel so sorry for the
victims. To be sure, other than
intensely reading, watching and listening to all the available information
about the flight, I don’t officially know any more than you. However, I want to provide a perspective
from the vantage point of having over 3000 hours piloting a helicopter.
Today, on the news I heard how “unsafe” travel by helicopter
is. Seriously? I don’t have the numbers at my fingertips but
can you image the number of helicopter flight hours which were flown by all
services during the Vietnam War. How
about the Iraq war; maybe the “forever war” in Afghanistan? Were there crashes? Sure.
Shoot downs? Yep. Inflight emergencies due to weather, pilot
error or mechanical issues? Without a
doubt. But honestly, flight in a
helicopter, yes with some risks, is safe.
So what happened Sunday?
Let’s focus only on the pilot. So
here’s the thing: have you ever heard of
“Let’sgoitis?” It is a disease which
affects many a pilot on the occasion where there is a confluence of a number of
pressuring factors: celebs, you've got to get
there, they want you to go, you are awesome, and you can do it!
How about an anecdote which might explain: I was assigned to fly the governor of Indiana
to Purdue University for a commencement ceremony back in the day, then fly him
to another commencement ceremony the same day, and then drop him off at his
residence in Northern Indiana (circa 1981).
All was going well, people graduated at Purdue U then off to the next
ceremony! All's good!
As we headed north toward South Bend, IN,
I noticed that a weather system seemed to be “moving in.” I did not have any navigation instruments in
the Bell JetRanger, other than an ADF and VOR; no radar, no ILS, nothing
sophisticated like present day helicopters have: I was flying Visual Flight Rules
(VFR). There was no radar flight
following: nothing! (Just like the way I
flew in Vietnam!)
As I continued north,
I was under pressure to get to the destination on time, after all, I had the
Governor on board and I didn’t want to be the cause of any tardiness; however,
we were late taking off because of handshaking and politicking!
As I continued the flight, the clouds
darkened, the wind picked up which bounced us around and the “pucker factor” increased (military slang phrase which refers to
the tightening of the buttocks caused by extreme fear!). I knew that a severe
thunderstorm, which often rakes across the plains in Indiana during May, was between me
and my destination. Soon big drops of
rain began splattering my windscreen as the clouds lowered closer to the ground in front of me…
Today I have been thinking lot about the
pilot flying Kobe Bryant and his entourage on Sunday. Kobe – famous and larger than life -- and
crew needed to get to their destination.
The helicopter was a sophisticated Sikorsky S76B, twin-engine, luxurious
for the passengers, and rated for instrument flying. The pressure to perform the flight was
probably enormous in the pilot’s mind.
He was qualified, with the appropriate training to fly his
helicopter. I’m sure he had
“letsgoitis!” We can do it! “We are in a helicopter; we don’t need a
runway, we can land anywhere if we run into weather.”
Fog: a type of low-lying cloud: A haiku:
“over the hill, a river of fog, flooding the valley.” How appropriate. Fog is unforgiving, especially when you're flying
low and not flying with instruments.
But here’s the thing:
the pilot doesn’t want to die. He
doesn’t want to hurt his passengers. He
doesn’t want to “ding” the helicopter.
He takes a calculated chance, maybe like the one before when he might have
pulled through in a similar circumstance.
His “pucker factor” is off the charts!
He drives on hoping for a good outcome.
He calls for help! “You are too
low, we can’t see you out there,” says Air Traffic Control. And then…
So as the rain came on heavy, visibility deteriorating
rapidly, with the Governor and his wife and his security Trooper on board, I
decided that in that selfish moment to save myself! I landed that Bell JetRanger in a corn field
which had just been planted without asking for permission.
I was the Captain of my ship.
We
sat there, the rain pounding on the flimsy surface of the helicopter making the
noise inside, deafening. After about twenty
minutes, the rain slowed, the clouds rolled on and the sun peaked through a
parting cloud. A good sign. I lifted off and headed to South Bend.
We were definitely late!
We also lived for another day.
All I received was a “thanks.” I
didn’t need a thanks; I did it to save myself! I only wished Kobe's pilot had done the same thing.
