Oldman tell us your stories about your flying experiences.

Ruth n Jersey

Well-known Member
I saw this on another post and thought we might all enjoy your experiences flying and any other pilots as well.
I have a question for you. Where you flying on 9/11? What was the reaction in the cockpit as well as the passengers?
 

Would enjoy stories, But have a question for you.... The Courageous thread brought the memory back up...
Maxton Laurenburg Airport in NC was a WWII training base, we used one runway for Land Speed Racing..
The place was also used to scrape old commercial airliners....
What kind of mindset does it take to FLY a plane to the junkyard?????
 
I saw this on another post and thought we might all enjoy your experiences flying and any other pilots as well.
I have a question for you. Where you flying on 9/11? What was the reaction in the cockpit as well as the passengers?
I was scheduled off on 9/11. I thanked the Lord for that. Normally, I flew on Tuesdays, but on that particular Tuesday, I decided not to fly. I had enough seniority to chose my days and routes and for whatever reason, I decided not to fly on that particular day. We scheduled our flights and routes two weeks ahead. (Scheduling is very complicated.) I never figured out why I decided not to fly on that day.

Two days later, we were cleared to fly again. My first flight was on 9/14, which was a non stop flight from Dulles in Washington, D.C. to Los Angeles (LAX) in a Boeing 757. We only had 17 passengers onboard a plane that seated about 225. We departed at 7:30 a.m. Everyone onboard was very subdued.

Before takeoff (at the gate), we asked for a moment of silence. No one objected.
 

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Would enjoy stories, But have a question for you.... The Courageous thread brought the memory back up...
Maxton Laurenburg Airport in NC was a WWII training base, we used one runway for Land Speed Racing..
The place was also used to scrape old commercial airliners....
What kind of mindset does it take to FLY a plane to the junkyard?????
I only flew one plane to the boneyard. It was a Boeing 737 that was being put there to be sold or leased to any company that had a need for it. We flew it from New York to the Mojave boneyard in California. It's really heartbreaking to fly a plane that may be making it's last flight. Unless another company picks it up, it may be used for parts or the entire plane could be scrapped. There is another graveyard in the west, I believe it is located around Tuscon.
 
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Oldman, someone was watching over you. It must be an awesome experience to fly a plane. Hats off to you.
Flying becomes a passion for most pilots. There are many pilots that would fly 24/7, if possible. Then, there are a few pilots that fly just as a job. Flying is not a job. It's an exciting and very rewarding experience. I have flown with both. I have also blacklisted some pilots that I refuse to fly with because they don't follow procedures. As a pilot, you just cannot skip over following SOP. If you wanted to fly with me, you will fly by the book.
 
I once had a couple (male & female) request that I marry them. On the high seas, I believe this is legal, but not in the air. I told the couple, OK, I will perform a quick ceremony, but it won’t be legal until you obtain a license and have to repeat the ceremony all over again.

They were fine with that, so I had a flight attendant (F/A) as a witness observe the two minute ceremony and it was over. It was fun and the passengers were amused by it. I learned later, that many of the passengers actually gave them money as a wedding gift.
 
We were flying home to D.C. (my home airport) from Las Vegas in July. It was very hot in Vegas and also very hot in the East and across the whole country. Late afternoon thunderstorms are frequent in the Central Plains. Kansas City was reporting heavy t’storms, but we weren’t close enough to see them on the plane’s radar. I decided to fly south to go around and under the storms. It would maybe cost us 20 minutes, but we would be safer.

By the book, at that time, the Captain had to request any changes to the flight plan from the Dispatcher. When I requested the change, he declined to approve it. Well, I decided to do it anyway. After I landed, I was handed a note to call my Dispatcher, which I expected. As soon as he answered the phone, he said, “Hello, Lucky.” I asked him why was I lucky. He told me that Kansas City had a small tornado and there were several microbursts around the area. Then he adds, “Good job.”
 
I flew a heart from New York to Dallas for transplant. I had to be there by such and such a time or the heart wouldn’t be able to be used and the patient may have died. These days, transplants are handled much different than they were back in the early ‘80’s.

I was told that an ambulance would be standing by to pick up the EMT and heart immediately upon arrival. Upon arrival, we had to stop short of the gate and a stairway would be ready to be pushed against the plane, so that the EMT with the heart could exit.

As we were nearing Dallas, we were advised that heavy storms were rolling through, but there were no storms at the airport yet. The ATC told us that we had about a 40 minute window to arrive before the storm would reach the airport. According to the computer, we still had about 50 minutes before touchdown. I requested from ATC that we be given permission to raise our speed from 480 to 540 and to clear all traffic in front of us. The ATC already knew that we had a transplant organ onboard, so he agreed.

As we were in our final approach, it started raining and we could see lightning just ahead of us. Now, we had to continue to descend and slow the plane. I knew this was going to be a balancing act and it was going to be close. Safety of my passengers were first on my mind. I wasn’t committed to taking any chances.

We came in a little fast and sat the plane down on the runway a little hard, but we just beat the storm by maybe two minutes.
 
I only flew one plane to the boneyard. It was a Boeing 737 that was being put there to be sold or leased to any company that had a need for it. We flew it from New York to the Mojave boneyard in California. It's really heartbreaking to fly a plane that may be making it's last flight. Unless another company picks it up, it may be used for parts or the entire plane could be scrapped. There is another graveyard in the west, I believe it is located around Tuscon.

I've seen the one near Tuscon.

It seems like I also saw what might be a "boneyard" somewhere around Roswell, NM; there were a lot of planes parked there in orderly rows. Maybe just a storage facility?
 
sort'a off target
Military boneyard in Arizona or New Mexico.
Depressing at the # of obsolete military aircraft that the taxpayers paid for now rotting away.
They do salvage some spare parts, but primarily they rot away,
eventually junked out
 
Oh, that's a great story. I was actually an engineer at DuPont before I became a pilot. After two years of that, I told my dad that I had enough of sitting in a cubicle drawing circles and squares, so to speak. He asked me what else would I rather be doing. I told him that I always wanted to fly. He said he knew that by all the model airplanes that I had put together. I tried to fly in the military, but they told me that I was too tall, which I found later was a lie. I had also tried to get a nomination from my Congressman to attend the Naval Academy, but he wrote to me stating that my GPA wasn't high enough and that I was beat out by other candidates with a higher GPA. Oh, well.

I attended flight school and two weeks before graduation was recruiting day when airline recruiters would be able to come to the school and try to persuade some of the students to work for them. I was approached by three air lines probably because I finished second in my class. Each one interviewed me for about 30-45 minutes and each one told me that they would get back to me. A few weeks later I began to receive letters. The first one that came was from Air Wisconsin, which was my first choice. I also received offers from the other two, but even though AW wasn't the best offer, it was my choice. After two years, I was bumped to their contract flights flying under the name United Express. I flew for AW for eight years, until I got a call that would change my life forever. I had sent my resume to United Airlines and waited for almost two years before they reached out to me. "Can you come down to Dulles for an interview?" "You bet your Bippy I can."

I started out flying the Boeing 737, then advanced up to a 757 and then a 767 and finally the 747. After two years of flying the B-747 between Chicago and Hawaii, I was ready to stay put in the U.S. and returned back to the B-757 & 767. I never had a true desire to fly international and I have no regrets not doing that, although if I could have done it as a here and there type schedule, I may have tried that, but we had to make a choice. You either fly domestic or international. Choosing what plane and what routes are a tricky ordeal and are mostly based on seniority. Same for moving up the ladder to become a Captain.

When I decided to change planes from what I was flying, which was the Boeing 757 and 767, I wanted to fly the 747 and I chose the Chicago to Hawaii route. First, I had to become certified. To do that meant spending hours in a simulator. Luckily, my home airport, which was Dulles in D.C. had a 747 sim. (We call them sim for short.) I think I spent about 60 or 70 hours learning the 747 avionics. Then, of course, I had to actually fly the real plane. When a pilot changes airplane certifications he has to have so many hours of flying, plus so many takeoffs and landings and then fly the plane with a check pilot watching over his/her shoulder. The pilot in training has to be evaluated by the check pilot several times before he receives his certification. Once he is good to go, it is not unusual if someone from the FAA goes along for the ride to make sure th pilot is ready to command the aircraft.
I've seen the one near Tuscon.

It seems like I also saw what might be a "boneyard" somewhere around Roswell, NM; there were a lot of planes parked there in orderly rows. Maybe just a storage facility?
Gee, I'm sorry, I never kept up with the planes that got stored and exactly where all of the storage facilities are located. The facility that I went to was like visiting a cemetery. Very solemn with sand and dust blowing in the wind on a hot afternoon. It kind of broke my heart to see the many planes just sitting around without a future. And then, I think about the billions of dollars that are just going to waist.
 
sort'a off target
Military boneyard in Arizona or New Mexico.
Depressing at the # of obsolete military aircraft that the taxpayers paid for now rotting away.
They do salvage some spare parts, but primarily they rot away,
eventually junked out
That's right. In fact, I heard a story one time years ago that there are more military planes in storage than commercial aircraft. Billions and billions of dollars just sitting. To put things in perspective, the cost of just one engine for a Boeing 747 is about $250 million times four.
 
Back in June of 1999, I was scheduled to take a flight from Miami to New York. When I got to the airport, which by the way is beautiful, I had an e-mail waiting for me to see the United Dispatcher. I walk into her office and she tells me that she has some great news. I told her good, I need to hear some great news. She told me that on my flight will be a U.S. Marshall and he will be accompanying a Federal fugitive back to New York. I said "What? I thought the Feds had their own airline?" She said they do, but for whatever reason, they can't fly him. (GROAN) He was to be the last passenger onto the plane and the first one off in New York. Oh Goody! Three hours of babysitting.

This was back before we had to lock our cockpit doors and so on. After everyone else was seated and we were ready for pushback from the gate, the ATC tells me that we are on hold waiting for a special package to be delivered. "Yeah, I know." After 10 minutes of waiting, I contacted ATC and told them I have to go now or I am going to be late. The ATC comes back and says, "He's on the bridge now." Finally, he came aboard. He looked like he had the crap beat out of him, hadn't shaved in a week and forgot to pack clean clothes. He gets seated all the way back in the last row. The plane wasn't full, so we moved a young couple up to first class and kept the last four rows vacant. The couple had just got married and was returning home from their honeymoon, so why not give them a little present and seat them in first class? The prisoner had hand cuffs on and when he was seated, his legs were shackled. The passengers were none to happy, but no one made a fuss.

This is a 3-hour flight and we are 2-hours into it, so we are around Baltimore. I started to think, "This went better than I expected." I must have jinxed us when I thought that. All of a sudden he starts making animal sounds. "Moo, quack quack, cock-a doodle-do, ruff ruff, meow meow" and on and on for about ten minutes. The Purser is calling me about these noises and I asked her what was the Marshall doing? She said, "Nothing. In fact, he's just sitting there ignoring him." I told her to do the same and tell the passengers to just ignore him. He soon stopped. Then, he has to go to the lavatory. He comes back to his seat and now he needs a drink. Then he starts begging for a cigarette. Anything to be nuisance.

Finally, we are getting the plane ready to land. I had the F/O (First Officer) make an announcement to "Please remain seated at the gate until our guest has deplaned, then you may get up and retrieve your items from the overhead bins." We open the main cabin doors and two guys dressed in swat gear come rushing in and stick their uzi's in his face while the Marshall removes his leg shackles. They were gone fairly quick and calm prevailed. Well, about as much calm as one could expect with 180 passengers trying to get off an airplane.
 
I gots an airplane story. The year was 1961. I was an Airman 3rd Class, in the USAF stationed at Tinker AFB. Midwest City, Oklahoma.
We were going on a joint mission to the Panama Canal Zone. We loaded a C124 with a 6x6, a jeep, a beacon, and a Diesel power unit. Then we got on and away we went. Well we didn't go far. About halfway down the runway we came to a screeching halt.
We taxied back to the apron and a couple of people brought out a ladder and started working on one of the engines. I guess it was about a half hour and we were ready to go again.
Here we go...oops, same thing again. They brought out the ladder and worked on the same engine another 30 minutes or so.
Third try we made it. it's a long way from Oklahoma to Panama and there was a plane load of nervous eyes watching that engine.
 
I gots an airplane story. The year was 1961. I was an Airman 3rd Class, in the USAF stationed at Tinker AFB. Midwest City, Oklahoma.
We were going on a joint mission to the Panama Canal Zone. We loaded a C124 with a 6x6, a jeep, a beacon, and a Diesel power unit. Then we got on and away we went. Well we didn't go far. About halfway down the runway we came to a screeching halt.
We taxied back to the apron and a couple of people brought out a ladder and started working on one of the engines. I guess it was about a half hour and we were ready to go again.
Here we go...oops, same thing again. They brought out the ladder and worked on the same engine another 30 minutes or so.
Third try we made it. it's a long way from Oklahoma to Panama and there was a plane load of nervous eyes watching that engine.
Sounds like something minor, if it was a quick fix. Maybe a clogged fuel filter of something similar. I saw those big C series airplanes. I used to drive by Dover Air Base. They almost look like they are sitting still in the sky.
 
We had arrived at LAX from Washington and everyone was off the plane, the flight crew in back was finishing up cleaning and putting things away and the F/O and I were finishing the paperwork. Finally, we were all able to leave the plane together. The plan was to head down to the flight crew’s lounge and pick up our schedule for the next day before heading to the hotel.

As we were walking through the airport, a young lady about my age had just walked out of the bathroom and almost bumped into me. She immediately excused herself and then she asked me if that was real. I was confused and asked her is what real? She pointed to my wings and again she asked is that real gold? I told her that they were gold plated, but not solid gold. She asked me if I would sit with her for awhile because she was with friends, but they had gone somewhere, but not sure where.

I kind of thought she looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. I asked her if she would like to grab a cup of coffee. She said sure, so I knew there was a donut shop just ahead and led her there to “The Donut Hole.” While we were talking, she asked me if I knew who she was. I told her no, but I think I may have seen here before. She told me that she was Estelle Bennett. I was still a bit confused and then she told me that she was one of the Ronettes. That’s when I started shaking my head and told her, “Yes, I remember now.” She was really a cool person.
 

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