Scapegoat: A Flight Crew's Journey from Heroes to Villains to Redemption

by Emilio Corsetti III

S ome pilots can work their entire career and never face anything more challenging than a blown landing light. Most pilots, however, will at some point encounter a problem that tests their skills and knowledge: a precautionary engine shutdown, a system failure, an electrical problem. Most of the time the malfunction is dealt with, and the flight lands without incident. Occasionally, a pilot will experience an emergency that is life threatening. A useful metaphor in demonstrating the random nature of emergencies involves a basket filled with marbles. Imagine that before every flight a pilot must reach into a basket and pull out a single marble. There are thousands of white marbles; there are a handful of red marbles; there is one black marble.

Flying any aircraft near the service ceiling is a delicate balance. Fly too slow and the aircraft can experience low-speed buffet. Fly too fast and there is the possibility of high-speed mach buffet. Both conditions occur when the air flowing over the wings begins to separate either because of excess speed or a high angle of attack. Increasing the g-loads on the aircraft has the same effect as increasing the angle of attack. Turbulence or a steep turn then can be enough to make the plane become unstable and even uncontrollable. Some pilots describe it as feeling as if the plane is balanced on the head of a needle. There’s even an aerodynamic term for this flight regime: It’s called the coffin corner.

The passengers looked to the flight attendants for guidance as to what to expect next. Hoot’s brief announcement did little to allay their fears. He hadn’t said anything about what had happened. He hadn’t said anything about where they might be diverting to or how long it might be before they landed. He hadn’t said anything about the condition of the plane or given any reassurances that they would land safely. In Hoot’s defense, he didn’t know what the condition of the plane was other than that it was difficult to control. As for Scott and Gary, they were occupied with running emergency checklists. Still, the lack of communication from the crew about what was happening would be cited later by passengers filing lawsuits as a contributing factor to their anxiety and emotional distress.

Those with a more optimistic outlook considered the near-death experience a wakeup call. They took chances they might not have taken otherwise. They felt as though they had been given a unique gift of life. Bob Reber, who was on the flight with his wife Gwen and who had been a bit of a penny pincher before TWA 841, now didn’t think twice about making a large purchase. “You just never know when all of a sudden, poof! And it’s all over,” Bob commented to Minneapolis writer Buzz Bissinger.

Such was the case of the ATR aircraft following an accident on Halloween night, October 31, 1994. The plane, an ATR 72, crashed in a farm field near Roselawn, Indiana, after encountering freezing rain and heavy icing. The investigation uncovered a design flaw with the aircraft

that allowed ice to form aft of the de-icing boots. The aircraft manufacturer made design changes to the de-icing boots, and airline operators made changes to their procedures and training, but public perception had turned against the aircraft. Airlines operating ATRs in northern states were forced to move them to warmer climates.

One feature of the yaw damping system was the lack of rudder pedal feedback whenever the yaw dampers commanded rudder movement. If a yaw damper sensed a yaw and commanded rudder movement to counter that yaw, there was no corresponding feedback to the pilot’s rudder pedals. The only indication a pilot would have that a yaw damper was controlling rudder movement would be an unexpected movement of the nose.

In what might be considered an aggressive flight certification schedule, the first aircraft were delivered to launch customers United Airlines and Eastern Airlines just a few months after the first test flight. N840TW, the plane used for TWA Flight 841, was delivered to TWA on July 13, 1965. It was the 160th Boeing 727 to roll off the assembly line.2

Pilots who flew the early 727 claimed that the aircraft was underpowered at high gross weights and seemed to wallow through the air, especially at high altitudes. The portly appearance and undesirable flight characteristics led to the 727 acquiring the ignominious nickname of “Miss Piggy,” or simply “The Pig.” Aircraft N840TW was nicknamed “Sky Pig.”

Statistics have shown that airline fatalities that occur during cruise account for only eight percent of all fatal accidents, with takeoffs and landings accounting for the highest percentage of fatalities. Only the descent phase has shown a lower percentage of fatal accidents, at four percent.3

118 simulator tests took place. None of the simulator trials were able to accurately duplicate the TWA 841 FDR traces. There were two simulator tests that led to a loss of control and also had some correlation to the 841 FDR traces. In one instance, the pilots had to delay taking corrective action for 16.5 seconds. Interestingly, if the delay was sixteen seconds, control was regained with only a 6,000-foot altitude loss. In the second test that produced a correlation to the 841 FDR traces, the pilots delayed action for twelve seconds and then disconnected the autopilot and rapidly applied left aileron and full left rudder until the plane had rolled 285 degrees to the left, which was about 45 degrees past inverted. This was followed by a loss of altitude and an uncontrollable roll back to the right. The plane continued to roll to the right, despite full left aileron and full left rudder, until the slat was retracted and the pilot regained control.