First Annual Archie League Medal of Safety Awards:
Winners
ALASKA REGION
Meaghan Howard
Facility: Anchorage Air Route Traffic Control Center
Date of Event: November 3, 2004
Controllers working at the Federal Aviation Administration’s en route centers pride themselves on a close camaraderie and place a premium on teamwork. Individually, they have a keen sense of situational awareness but are also cognizant of the big picture, even after aircraft are handed off.
These are traits taught the minute a new controller walks through the front door. For Howard, a 24-year-old developmental controller only two years into her FAA career, the skills she brought to the facility, combined with her training experience thus far, carried the day on November 3 and ensured a safe outcome to a potentially very serious situation.
Howard was working Anchorage Center’s Sector 7 radar position. A co-worker, Terry Tramp, was working as the interphone controller at the same sector.
Federal Express Flight 21 (FDX21) had just been issued a radar vector prior to a handoff to Anchorage approach control. The pilot acknowledged a clearance for a path of flight for “direct Yeska, direct Anchorage” and was transferred to the Anchorage approach frequency.
But for an undetermined reason, the pilot did not fly the direct Yeska route. The aircraft continued on a southwesterly heading, placing it in direct conflict with another aircraft, Arctic Circle Air flight 106 (CIR106).
CIR106 had just departed Anchorage International Airport and was at a flight level of 10,000 feet; the same altitude as FDX21.
An impending situation between the two aircraft developed. The controller was also working the final approach for Runway 6 at Anchorage International. If FDX21 had correctly followed controllers’ instructions to fly the direct Yeska route, it would not have become a sudden traffic problem for CIR106.
Enter Howard, who was certified on the Sector 7 radar position and grew increasingly concerned when it appeared that the aircraft were not separated.
Howard asked Tramp to call Anchorage approach and alert them to the two aircraft’s perilous course at the same altitude. Tramp made the call and the Anchorage approach controller took immediate action to separate the aircraft and avoided a potentially serious incident.
Dan Mawhorter, manager of quality assurance staff in the FAA’s Western En Route and Oceanic Operations, wrote a message to other FAA officials, praising Howard’s work to ensure safety with quick thinking and dedication.
“This was an excellent example of paying attention even after completing a handoff and communication change, instead of just dropping the data block,” Mawhorter wrote. “The teamwork both at the sector and between the center and approach control was equally superb.”
Concluded Mawhorter: “Both of these controllers accomplished the extra step necessary to ensure safety.”
Honorable Mention
Travis Williams, Anchorage Tower
CENTRAL REGION
Mark Goldstein
Facility: Wichita Air Traffic Control Tower
Date of Event: November 4, 2004
When Goldstein initiated his own investigation of a landing aircraft’s report of foreign object debris (FOD) on runway 1L, doggedly and efficiently determining the source, it may have seemed like an extraordinary example of a controller going above the call of duty. But not to Goldstein’s fellow controllers in the tower, who have seen this from him before.
“Mark is a very conscientious air traffic controller,” says Patrick Pelkowski. “He is extremely experienced not only as a controller but as a pilot. This dual experience has helped Mark to make numerous suggestions to pilots in distress and help many controllers who needed assistance.”
After the FOD report was made to the tower, controllers instructed a Wichita Airport Authority vehicle to inspect the runway and remove the FOD. The vehicle found parts of an aircraft tire and a white aircraft gear door. Upon hearing this, Goldstein asked the vehicle driver to bring the gear door to the base of the tower so he could view it with binoculars from the tower cab. Because he is a pilot, he was hopeful he’d be able to tell what kind of aircraft the door belonged to.
After examination, Goldstein determined it probably belonged to a regional jet and began calling the companies at the airport that fly this type of aircraft. When he talked to officials at Atlantic Southeast Airlines, they determined that their aircraft had white gear doors and that one of their flights had taken off for Atlanta just shortly before the FOD was discovered on the runway.
Mystery solved. But now there was the urgent need to get word to pilots of the flight about their damaged aircraft.
Goldstein called the Kansas City Air Route Traffic Control Center (ZKC) watch supervisor’s desk and asked them to contact the Atlantic Southeast Flight (CAA177) and advise them of the situation. The ZKC traffic management unit contacted the company and also relayed the information to the pilot through the assistance of Memphis Center, whose airspace the aircraft had entered by this point.
The pilot indicated that he was not aware of any problems with his flight. But as a precaution, the flight declared an emergency and, fortunately, safely landed in Atlanta. During a post-flight inspection, the airline discovered the plane had blown a tire, was missing a gear door and suffered damage to a wing flap.
Goldstein’s work earned him recognition from Federal Aviation Administration officials in Wichita, who wrote: “Mr Goldstein’s professionalism and willingness to go above and beyond reflect credit upon him and exemplify the highest of aviation service.”
Pelkowski says the recognition is well deserved and long awaited.
“Mark is always focused on his work and it shows as he is one of the most efficient air traffic controllers I have ever had the pleasure to work with,” Pelkowski stated. “We’re happy to be able to recognize Mark for his career-long dedication to maintaining the safety of the flying public.”
EASTERN REGION
Scott Dittamo
Facility: Newark Tower
Date of Event: July 24, 2004
One afternoon four years ago, not long after graduating from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University and taking his first job at Fort Lauderdale Executive Tower, Dittamo was on the catwalk talking to a co-worker when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a Comanche coming over the threshold and preparing to land. The aircraft’s landing gear was still up.
“I raced back inside the cab and got on the radio to advise the pilot about his gear,” Dittamo said. “The funny thing about it is that I remember things from my training that have stuck in my head. That day in the tower I was training on the cab coordinator position and my trainer told me, ‘Look for feet (landing gear). Always look for feet on the (propeller-powered aircraft). The prop guys don’t have the warning systems, but the jets will always have feet.”
Fast forward to the afternoon of July 24, 2004. Dittamo was in the final stages of his developmental program at the busy Newark Tower, receiving training on the local control position.
The weather conditions were ideal; clear skies. Dittamo was looking out the window. “We had a (Boeing) 747 coming in,” he said. “You can point out a 747 easily on a clear day.”
It was Air India Flight 145, with 409 passengers aboard.
“He was on five-mile final approach,” Dittamo remarked. “I saw him but I couldn’t see gear.” With his Fort Lauderdale trainer’s instructions in his head – “Always look for feet” – Dittamo glanced in a different direction and then turned back to the 747 to look again. No gear.
“I thought, ‘something just doesn’t seem right’,” he said. “In my mind, I said I would pick it up in my next scan. But then I looked up and the plane definitely had no gear.”
By this point, flight 145 was on a half-mile final at an altitude of 600 feet. “I was surprised he didn’t go around,” Dittamo stated. “I was going to let it go for one more second, because this was a critical phase of the flight for the crew. But then I just said to myself, ‘I’m not going to let this go for any longer.”
Dittamo keyed the mike: “Air India 145, check gear down. Gear appears up.”
The pilot acknowledged the transmission with a calm, “Air India 145.” Down came the gear and the 747 landed safely on runway 4R.
“Holy cow!” said another controller in the tower, realizing that Dittamo had just prevented a possible disaster. Several other pilots on the frequency, taxiing or waiting to take off, heard the transmissions and instantly knew the importance of Dittamo’s actions to catch a very rare occurrence.
One pilot said on the frequency, “Give that controller a raise!” Another said, “Give him a time off award!” A third offered a succinct compliment: “Hey tower, good catch.”
Newark Tower Acting Manager Michael D. Wagner was more effusive.
“His alertness and timely action may have prevented a possible gear up landing,” Wagner wrote of Dittamo – now a fully certified controller – on a time-off award recommendation form. “Scott’s action is representative of the professionalism and dedication displayed not only at Newark Tower but also throughout the entire air traffic system.”
After his shift was over, Dittamo called his old trainer – who now works at Miami Tower – to report a slight correction to the advice he was given back in Fort Lauderdale:
“Jets don’t always have feet.”
EASTERN REGION
Greg Horne
Facility: Washington Dulles Tower
Date of Event: December 15, 2004
In the span of only a few months, Washington Dulles Tower has risen dramatically on the Federal Aviation Administration’s list of the country’s busiest towers, from 24th all the way to 12th. Tower controllers handled 366,000 operations in 2003, but 503,000 in 2004, a staggering jump of 37 percent.
Alertness and situational awareness were always two of the trademarks of Dulles controllers before last year, but the extra workload has forced them to take their skills to an even higher level. And at no time were these traits more vital for a safe operation than during a very busy Wednesday arrival bank just before Christmas, with a tower staff that included Horne, a veteran controller, husband and father of two whose nickname, “Grouchy,” stands in contrast to his calm, professional demeanor.
Horne was working the Ground Control North position. Aircraft were landing on Runway 1L in quick succession in that unrelenting cadence that forced controllers to be on top of their game.
One of those aircraft was N26SC, a small plane that touched down and cleared the runway. The pilot radioed Horne that he was requesting clearance to taxi over to the Hawthorne General Aviation Ramp. Horne promptly instructed the aircraft to “taxi via taxiway Yankee to the Hawthorne Ramp.”
Horne kept an eye on the aircraft but was also having to deal with another issue adding to the complexity of his position; a stuck microphone that created a blockage on his frequency and impeded communication.
And a second bit of bad news: The tower’s Airport Movement Area Safety System was out of service on this day, eliminating any safety net for Horne, who had to remain extra vigilant.
Horne watched closely as N26SC, in attempting to navigate the taxiways, mistakenly turned onto the reverse high speed for Runway 1L, which, when planes are landing from the opposite direction, is used as the high speed turnoff taxiway.
The aircraft was now beginning to taxi toward the active runway. It was immediately at this point that Horne, in the words of another controller in the tower at the time, Leslie Warfield, “displayed great diligence, poise and control judgment” by realizing what the aircraft was attempting to do and correcting the action with a quick, clear and concise instruction to the pilot:
“Hold your position immediately.”
The aircraft complied and later made it safely to its Hawthorne Ramp destination. Horne’s actions prevented a runway incursion or, Warfield says, worse, an accident with another aircraft using the active runway.
Dulles Tower’s NATCA facility representative, Kieron Heflin, nominated Horne for the Archie League award and credited him with one of the tower’s most noteworthy saves in recent memory.
“Disaster was certainly averted that day due to Greg’s quick thinking and attention to detail,” Heflin said. “Greg is the consummate professional, seeking no reward for the fantastic job he does day in and day out. I’m proud to show him that his hard work and dedication does not go unnoticed.”
Concluded Warfield: “Because the AMASS was out of service, the only thing that saved the aircraft from entering the runway was Greg’s actions.”
Honorable Mention
Dusty Boariu and Jody Cook, New York Center
Herbert “Chip” Degan, Atlantic City Tower
John Higgins, Steven Lund and Susan Kelley-Marino, New York Center
Randy Throckmorton, Newark Tower
GREAT LAKES REGION
Dan Hemenway
Facility: Madison Tower
Date of Event: December 30, 2004
Hemenway was in the midst of a routine Thursday afternoon in the radar room at Madison Tower, handling the usual assortment of aircraft and building up a nice, smooth rhythm, even tapping out a few beats with his fingers on the console between radio transmissions. But as every controller knows, an emergency situation is as close as the next voice you hear on the frequency.
For Hemenway, on this day, it was a female pilot’s voice aboard a single engine Cirrus SR22 – call sign N678DF – headed north to Madison from Rockford, Ill.
“Eight Delta Foxtrot, room for you at four thousand also,” Hemenway told the pilot as he worked the aircraft into an altitude that was filling up before setting it up for an approach.
But Hemenway had a comfortable load of other traffic to handle as well. “Jet Blue 2898, contact Chicago Center 133.3 … Navajo four-three Mike fly heading one-one-zero … Northwest one-eight-six, contact Milwaukee Approach 126.5. … Good day.”
Then the Cirrus received attention again.
“Cirrus eight Delta Foxtrot, turning left heading three-one zero. … Cirrus eight Delta Foxtrot, descend and maintain two thousand, seven hundred. … Cirrus eight Delta Foxtrot, turn left heading two-eight zero.
Hemenway issued two instructions for left turns before clearing the aircraft for an instrument landing system approach into Runway 18. Everything appeared to be normal. Hemenway asked the pilot for another left turn, maintaining an altitude of 2,700 feet.
There was silence on the frequency. After a short period of time, Hemenway heard several short, strained breaths. It sounded like someone holding a microphone into the air on a windy day.
“Cirrus eight Delta Foxtrot, low altitude alert,” Hemenway told the pilot in a calm, clear voice. “Check your altitude immediately. You’re supposed to be at 2,700.”
Hemenway: “Eight Delta Fox, say your altitude?”
The pilot sounded worried. “Eight Delta Fox, going through one thousand.”
On his radar scope, Hemenway saw the altitude of the aircraft display “xxx” because it was in such a steep descent. His voice suddenly became stern and louder.
“Eight Delta Foxtrot, climb!”
Pilot: “It went nuts.”
Hemenway: “Two thousand seven hundred, eight Delta Foxtrot. Say your altitude now?” The pilot, sounding relieved, responded, “Two thousand five hundred.”
She then reported to Hemenway that she had stabilized the aircraft. Disaster was averted, but not before the aircraft got within 100 feet of the ground in instrument flight rules conditions that included 200-foot ceilings and 1.5 miles visibility at the airport.
The pilot stated that she had disengaged the autopilot and the plane “just went nuts.” She said she wanted to return to Rockford so Hemenway got her on her way, climbing her to 7,000 feet. By this time, his calm voice and soothing rhythm had returned.
Madison controller Kristin Danninger said she nominated Hemenway for the award because he issued the climb warning in clear terms in time to ensure a safe outcome for the aircraft.
“There are many times we as controllers stop to evaluate the conditions, the alarms and a number of other factors before we speak,” Danninger said. “In this case, Dan had no time to evaluate whether the low altitude alert was simply the display showing an erroneous altitude or whether it was legitimate. He was decisive and reacted in a way that caused the pilot to immediately start a climb to a safe altitude.”
Concluded Danninger: “I personally believe that Dan saved at least one life that day with his quick reaction.”
Honorable Mention
Ronald Adamski, Chicago Midway Tower
Randy Kerr, Columbus Tower
Paul Khatcherian, Chicago TRACON
NEW ENGLAND REGION
Ken Hopf
Facility: Boston Consolidated Terminal Radar Approach Control, Merrimack, N.H.
Date of Event: August 9, 2004
It was the call no controller ever wants to receive. A panic-stricken voice from aboard an aircraft in trouble crackles over the frequency. The pilot is unconscious. And neither of the two passengers holds a pilot’s license.
But that was precisely the situation presented to Hopf as he worked the flight data Manchester position, which is also responsible for issuing instrument flight rules clearances and releases off of uncontrolled satellite airports. Just after 4 p.m., he received a call on the clearance delivery frequency from Jennifer Truman, aboard a single engine, 1988 Piper Malibu that had just taken off from Laconia Airport in central New Hampshire.
Truman requested immediate assistance. The pilot, her father, William, was incapacitated. Her mother, Diana, was tending to him.
Hopf located the aircraft on his radar scope and then put his 22 years of controller experience – along with his knowledge as a Certified Flight Instructor – to work.
“I tried to calm her down and determine her ability to fly the plane. She said that she had flown a Piper Cherokee before, but had never flown the Malibu,” Hopf stated. “I assigned her some headings to fly. Her ability to do so and maintain altitude demonstrated to me as a flight instructor she had the ability to fly the plane. She just needed help landing it.”
Hopf’s colleague at Boston TRACON, Bob Romano, said Hopf’s calm voice had an immediate effect on Truman and she was better able to focus on piloting the complex aircraft despite the traumatic circumstances. Hopf talked with Truman about the best place to land and she decided it should be Laconia because of her familiarity with the area and the runway.
Hopf spent the next 15 minutes working with Truman to prepare the plane for landing.
“Getting the landing gear down and speed control were the most important things,” he remarked. “She was very confident in her ability to fly headings and maintain altitude. I had to try to keep things simple; I didn’t want to get too technical and overwhelm her.”
“Then,” Hopf added, “her mother became incapacitated. I no longer felt I had the time to work with her on speed control. I just needed to get her to the airport. I asked her to open a vent or window because it sounded like carbon monoxide poisoning. I turned the plane on a base leg and started her descent explaining the use of the throttle to slow the plane down. We also talked about what to do when the plane lands; to use the brakes and stop the engine. She slowed the plane up and descended and leveled off without any problems. I felt very confident at this point that if we got her lined up with the runway, that she could land the plane.”
Truman then reported the airport within sight. “I was trying to listen to her voice to see if I detected any signs of it becoming slow,” Hopf commented. “I asked her to slow the plane some more and line it up with the runway.”
When Truman was on short final, Hopf asked her to tell him when she was on the ground. A few moments later, that transmission arrived as music to Hopf’s ears.
“At that point, she broke down. I mean, I could tell her emotions just totally took over,” Hopf said. On the frequency, the relief in Truman’s voice was palpable: “Thank you very much. There's the fire department. Thank you very much.”
Concluded Hopf: “You think back of all the things that could have went wrong. I mean, this was a case where everything went right. Everything just was perfect.”
NORTHWEST MOUNTAIN REGION
Allan Blair
Facility: Portland Terminal Radar Approach Control
Brian Miller
Facility: Portland Air Traffic Control Tower
Date of Event: December 23, 2004
The pilot of the Beechcraft Bonanza found himself stuck above a thick cloud layer east of Portland, on the final moments of a lengthy flight from California. He had three passengers on board, no working transponder and very little fuel. Fortunately, however, he had Portland controllers Allan Blair and Brian Miller on the other end of his radio.
Miller, working the local controller position in the Portland control tower, took the call when the pilot reported his dangerous predicament and requested an emergency landing. Without the transponder, Miller used position reports and aircraft turns to identify the Beechcraft on the tower’s radar scope and determined it was near Sandy, Ore., far enough away from the airport to warrant control from the Portland TRACON.
On initial contact with Blair, the pilot requested an emergency descent through the clouds. Responding to Blair’s inquiry, the pilot reported an altitude of 4,000 feet.
Blair asked the pilot for his fuel status. The answer was ominous … 10 minutes left. Blair informed him he was directly over Troutdale Airport and that there were no visual flight rules weather reports within a 10 minute flight area. Blair then asked him if he and the aircraft could accept an instrument landing system approach. The answer was, again, ominous … the aircraft didn’t have the instruments necessary for instrument flight rules flight.
So Blair then issued the pilot several advisories. Portland Airport’s latest weather was a 400-foot ceiling and five miles visibility. The minimum safe altitude in the area was 2,000 feet. Blair also gave the pilot initial vectors to the airport.
Coordinating with the tower, Blair determined that runway 28L provided the pilot the best possibility of seeing the runway lights, which tower controllers turned on to full brightness, along with the approach lights. Blair then gave the pilot an update on the aircraft’s position and asked if he could see the airport. The pilot responded, “negative.”
Blair issued a minor heading correction and, after discovering the pilot had a GPS receiver on board, gave a vector for a GPS overlay approach to runway 28L, saying that he would talk him through it. But the pilot responded that it appeared his GPS had quit. Furthermore, he transmitted, “I think I’m out of fuel,” and said he was heading straight in.
On the ground, all departures and arrivals were held and the airport’s fire and rescue squads were readied.
Blair issued a heading directly at the closest runways, advising the pilot he was one mile east of the airport, lined up with runway 28L, and followed it up with several position reports. Since no altitude readout was available, Blair again asked the pilot for his altitude. The answer: 3,100 feet; too high to land on runway 28L.
Blair recommended the pilot circle north over the airfield since it appeared he was about to fly over it. He asked for the number of people on board. Answer: Three. By this time, the aircraft had descended to 2,000 feet. The pilot then reported his heading and asked if there was any runway left, meaning he had overflown the entire runway.
Then, Blair advised the pilot he had lost positive radar identification, but using the last heading and speed of the aircraft, Blair told the pilot he was probably a mile and a half south of the airport and should turn north to approach runway 3.
After issuing another heading and requesting the aircraft’s altitude, Blair received the last transmission from the pilot: “Five hundred.” But Blair’s last instruction positioned the aircraft over the runway 3 approach end and allowed the pilot to see the runway edge lights.
Several anxious seconds later, Blair received the joyous news from the tower: Safe landing!
SOUTHERN REGION
Cliff Murdock
Facility: Pensacola, Fla., Terminal Radar Approach Control
Date of Event: September-October 2004
Cliff Murdock is a hurricane veteran and, as such, emphatically states, “I do not take hurricanes lightly.” As a child growing up in Pensacola, Fla., he saw the before and after of what Hurricane Camille did to Pass Christian, Miss., in 1969. As a teenager, he experienced Hurricane Frederic as it devastated Mobile, Ala., in 1979. In 1995, he was in Pensacola for Hurricanes Erin and Opal.
But nothing quite prepared Murdock for a face-to-face encounter with the devastating eyewall of Hurricane Ivan during the harrowing overnight hours of Sept. 15-16. The experience, according to NATCA Executive Vice President Ruth Marlin, “sheds some light into the courage, dedication and skill that Cliff showed in the face of an event that put a very busy air traffic control facility out of business until Cliff led a remarkable comeback effort.”
Because Murdock was part of a team of Pensacola TRACON controllers and managers who stayed close by in the event the facility reopened after Ivan’s landfall, he joined with them to gather their families at the facility to ride out the storm. He cooked hamburgers for the group and then toured the facility with the operations manager, making sure all windows were closed and latched.
By 11 p.m., winds howled at 90 m.p.h. Murdock could taste the salt water in the wind – and the ocean is two miles east of the airport. At 12:30 a.m., with the winds well over 100 m.p.h., Murdock and two other controllers scouted the building for a status update.
Then, Murdock said, “in the loudest crash I have ever heard, a large section of the roof peeled off the TRACON and landed onto a red Saturn in the parking lot.” He then watched as the wind picked up a Ford F-150 about six feet, rotated it 90 degrees and set it down on the roof debris.
When the storm finally passed, the cleanup began and Murdock spearheaded a heroic effort to operate a patchwork air traffic control system that allowed for the safe and efficient flow of aircraft into and out of the local airspace.
The storm drenched computers, radar scopes and communications equipment, but a team of controllers, airways facilities and other Federal Aviation Administration employees, led by Murdock, set to restoring the TRACON to near full operational status. The facility reopened just 20 days later, with nine of its 12 radar scopes back up and running, inside a building outfitted with a new roof and a handful of other repairs.
As is his style, Murdock has been quick to credit others for their efforts while humbly deflecting attention away from himself. He said of his colleagues: “It's amazing. Our local airways facilities personnel worked 24/7 to ensure that our equipment was restored to operational condition.”
During the reconstruction period, Murdock and TRACON controllers worked a two-position operation from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m., using an extra radar scope up in the Pensacola Regional Airport control tower.
In addition, Cliff and other NATCA members provided generators and supplies to controllers who lost their homes. While taking care of his own personal family issues in the storm’s cleanup effort, he was part of a team effort to repair a major air traffic control facility in the Gulf Coast region, working day and night to restore the operation of the air traffic control system.
Said Marlin, who visited the region after the storm: “Cliff’s dedication not only to the safety of his family and colleagues but also to the flying public was on full display in a way that best exemplifies the very best qualities of skill and determination that I believe this award serves to recognize.”
Honorable Mention
Robert Collins, Pensacola Tower
Bruce DeMotts, Pensacola TRACON
Howard Nix and Tony Thompson Gulfport Tower
Michael Williams and Marcus Palmer, Mobile Tower
Andy Cantwell, Miami Tower
SOUTHWEST REGION
Chris Owen
Facility: Fort Worth Air Route Traffic Control Center
Date of Event: September 27, 2004
In the service of air traffic control, failure is not an option. So with a one-day-old, critically ill infant onboard a Lifeguard aircraft en route to Dallas Love Field from El Paso, Texas, with no way to establish a direct radio or phone connection to Children’s Medical Center of Dallas, it gradually became clear to Owen, the aircraft’s pilot and hospital personnel on the ground that the only link between doctor and patient was going to be Owen himself.
“Our medical crew was fortunate to have contacted Mr. Owen, who proved to be a vital asset during the course of this transport,” wrote Children’s Medical Center of Dallas Transfer Coordinators Jason Tumlinson and Amber Delaughter in a letter after the event, praising Owen’s “adept skill and assistance. … He became the communication liaison between the medical team and the physician at Children’s Medical Center during the flight.”
The hospital’s transfer team provides specialized pediatric care to a very large outlying community which it serves by plane, helicopter and ground ambulance. These patients are often very ill and require a great deal of intense specialty pediatric care during transport. During this particular flight, the hospital’s communication efforts were hindered due to a lack of technology aboard the back-up Lifeguard aircraft.
When Owen received the radio call from the aircraft, it was over Midland, Texas, too far away to receive the hospital’s radio frequency.
Owen offered to relay the medical information to the hospital.
“We’ve got a great deal of information to disseminate through the frequency and didn’t want to tie you up,” said the pilot. Owen provided the local flight service station frequency in hopes of establishing the needed link to the hospital. But two attempts were unsuccessful. The news aboard the aircraft wasn’t good.
“If you would, please let Children’s Medical Center know that we have a very critical patient on board and we need a doctor waiting for us at the airport,” the pilot remarked.
Owen used a land line telephone to reach Delaughter at the hospital and tried in vain to establish a way for doctors there to communicate directly with the aircraft. The result of Owen’s best efforts was that the hospital could hear the voices aboard the aircraft but Owen had to relay information back to the plane from doctors on the ground.
Several times, communication was cutoff to the hospital but Owen was prompt in reconnecting the line. However, the infant was not doing well. A fever had spiked to 101.5 degrees.
“I think things are going in the wrong direction,” the onboard nurse said. “Stand by and I will put the other pilot back on and perhaps you can help communicate.”
Owen said he continued to relay the doctor’s instructions through the pilot and, eventually, he remarked, “they told me they had gotten the infant stabilized. After a little while, the doctor was satisfied with the infant’s condition and left the phone to meet the flight at Love Field.”
The infant survived and, Owen later learned, was doing well.
“Mr. Owen was professional and courteous throughout the course of the entire event,” wrote Tumlinson and Delaughter. “In our field, we are called upon to help those individuals and organizations with medial emergencies that cannot help themselves. In this event, however, it was our team that needed assistance and Mr. Owen was there to provide the help in our time of need. Without the efforts of this individual, the patent’s life and well-being would have been at a much greater risk. Mr. Owen was a vital link in the care and treatment of this patient. We wish to bestow our greatest appreciation upon him.”
Honorable Mention
Natalie Moloney, Hugh McFarland and Michael Fountain, Houston TRACON
WESTERN PACIFIC REGION
Al Hurst and Ron Chappell
Facility: Southern California TRACON
Date of Event: July 9, 2004
It was just another typically busy morning traffic rush at Southern California TRACON. The weather was clear. Air traffic controllers worked diligently to separate a heavy stream of aircraft in the area surrounding Los Angeles International Airport (LAX). Nothing was out of the ordinary until two dedicated controllers – regular co-workers and teammates for over a decade – recognized a potential collision and took immediate action to avert disaster.
Ron Chappell was working the arrivals on final approach to Runway 25 at LAX. To his left sat Al Hurst, who controlled the arrivals on final to Runway 24 and had responsibility for traffic coming in from the east. That included SkyWest Airlines Flight 6100 (SKW6100), which had just taken off from Ontario International Airport for the short, 40-mile hop over to LAX and climbed to its prescribed altitude of 4,000 feet.
Chappell saw signs of trouble first. He was already busy maintaining separation for numerous flights when he observed something that just didn’t look right. Unidentified Visual Flight Rules (VFR) traffic was in conflict with SKW6100, located just 100 feet below SkyWest’s altitude. Chappell was certain the flights were on a collision course if controllers didn’t take immediate action to warn the pilots of the impending danger. He immediately notified Hurst, who had control of the affected sector.
“Hey Al, are you okay with that SKW6100 (4,000 feet) and that VFR at 3,900 (feet)?” he asked with urgency. Hurst was working on an Instrument Landing System (ILS) turn-on at the time, a complicated procedure requiring him to provide a pilot with detailed verbal instructions. With his hands full juggling the ILS turn-on and other traffic, the potential SkyWest conflict occurred in an instant.
Hurst heard Chappell’s warning and realized the gravity of the situation. “I knew exactly who Ron was talking about,” Hurst said. He immediately instructed the SkyWest pilot to climb if the VFR flight was not in sight. Right after issuing the instruction, the conflict alert sounded on Hurst’s radar scope, which warns him of a potential problem. Hurst felt good that he discovered the conflict before the equipment. It was, he remarked, a validation that, “I’m on this. I see the traffic no matter how busy we are.”
But SKW6100 had only climbed to 4,100 feet and the VFR aircraft was less than a mile away. Hurst issued another traffic alert to the SkyWest pilot with instructions to climb. The aircraft ascended rapidly as it safely passed the VFR plane off to its left side below.
The pilot, after acknowledging to Hurst that he did indeed see the traffic after the second alert, personally thanked Hurst for his attentiveness and the enormity of his actions. “We may have collided had you not said something,” he said on the frequency. “He (the other plane) was exactly at our altitude and crossed right through our path.”
Hurst, in all his years of experience, never recalls hearing a pilot say something like that. “That made me feel real good,” he said. “I told Ron about it afterward and he said, ‘Well, you climbed him, bro, not me; good call.’ But Ron was the one who caught the conflict and got the ball rolling to bring it to my attention. I wrote Ron up for a commendation and thanked him for doing that.”
The event lasted only for a moment but, if not for the professionalism and teamwork of these two controllers, the consequences could have lasted a lifetime. “Ron and Al worked as a cohesive unit and used their considerable skills to save lives,” remarked fellow Southern California TRACON Controller Ron Geyer. “Their ability to maintain composure and make quick decisions in a stressful situation helped avert a potential catastrophe.”
Honorable Mention
Keith Bell, Southern California TRACON
Robert Fierro, Los Angeles International Tower
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