Brace for landing!

“This is great, Robin,” I said. “I love it when we ferry the plane.”

“I agree. Getting paid to sleep is the best way to work.”

A flight without passengers was a prized luxury. We lifted armrests and made beds out of seat rows. After throwing pillows and blankets on the makeshift bed and buckling ourselves in, we were sound asleep within minutes after takeoff.

It was January, and we were flying five hours across a wintry landscape, from Oakland to McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey. I was the senior flight attendant on this particular flight. Once we picked up our scheduled MAC (Military Airlift Command) soldiers, we would continue flying to Frankfurt, Germany.

Captain Chapman, our pilot, was a favorite of the flight attendants. He was known to be charming and professional, with a great sense of humor. When we arrived at McGuire, snow was falling with tremendous intensity.

The massive snowstorm battered the entire East Coast. Air Traffic Control had diverted all other aircraft. Wind whipped around our plane as it descended, and we braced ourselves against the raging crosswinds.

I struggled into the cockpit, grabbing the doorframe, and listened to the captain’s instructions.

“Just in case we can’t land,” Captain Chapman yelled, “tell the girls to be ready for a go-around.”

I watched the blizzard blur the runway lights in the distance. The deafening sound of pelting hail and wind made hearing almost impossible.

With no passengers, the flight attendants seated themselves throughout the jet. Just as we touched down a ferocious crosswind hit us and we flew sideways. A powerful thrust from the engines forced us back into our seats and the aircraft started climbing. The plane lurched again and we began circling.

Once again we approached the runway. I entered the cockpit to check on our status. Captain Chapman turned his back to me, taking control of the yoke, and prepared for another approach.

The engineer told me, “The weather’s fluctuating between minimums. They’ve cleared us for Philly…just in case we need to divert.”

I left the cockpit and latched its door open. Secured in an aisle seat in the first row, I watched the captain fight to keep the jet aligned in the powerful crosswinds and blinding snow.

One wing dropped and seemed to scrape the tarmac. Captain Chapman pulled back on the control column and turned the yoke, leveling the plane.

The second approach had failed just like the first. Captain Chapman ran his hand through his graying hair.

“We’ll make one last try,” he told me. “If we can’t land, we’ll fly to Philadelphia.”

I informed the flight attendants and said, “Let’s move to the rear.”

Gripping the backs of the seat cushions, the five of us stumbled to the last aisle seats on the plane.

“Get in the brace position,” I ordered.

With fear racing through our bodies, we grabbed our ankles and put ours heads between our knees. I pulled my seat belt as tight as possible and prayed.

Glancing at us in the brace position, the engineer commented, “Now that’s what I call a vote of confidence.”

On the third try we landed at the McGuire base. The jet whipped along the runway, lurching with every crosswind.

Once we stopped, Robin called out, “Wow! That’s a flight I’ll never forget.”

Being a girl from sunny California, her comment rang true. It certainly did for me, and I grew up in snowy Connecticut.

After we gathered our belongings and the flight attendants changed into boots, we trudged toward the terminal, bent into the storm, the wind and snow slapping at our faces. I was freezing.

Once inside the building, we brushed our coats and headed for the coffee counter. The cockpit crew removed their outerwear and uniform jackets. The captain’s and first officer’s shirts were wringing wet. I cradled a cup of tea and listened to Captain Chapman recite the mantra of flight crews: “Hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.”

Дата добавления: 2015-08-27