9/11/2001: The Longest Flight of My Life

Short Bio: I am a former United States Naval Aviator and Captain for an large international airline. With 9/11/2011 approaching I felt it appropriate to write about what became the longest, most harrowing flight of my career. It is a career that spans nearly 37 years in aviation. Let me begin with a little history.
I entered the United States Navy in August of 1974 after graduating from a small Jesuit university in the northwestern part of the United States. I commissioned into the Navy to be an officer and aviator with no experience in flying, a liberal arts education and just enough math backround to buy a burger, pay with a twenty and know I received the correct change in return. Upon the start of flight training I worked my way through primary and advanced flight training followed closely by carrier qualifications. Stationed in Sicily I flew the C-2A Greyhound, landing on eight different aircraft carriers in the years between flight training and the time I departed Sicily. The next tour of duty was to fly the EC-130, then on to the Naval Reserves to fly DC-9's.
I became an airline pilot in September, 1983 and rapidly moved through the ranks until, after approximately 14 years, I became Captain on the Boeing 747-200. It is at this time in my career that this story takes place.


Prelude:

“Bojinka”. Not a word that would normally enter my thoughts. On 9/11/2001 I could hardly stop thinking of that peculiar word "Bojinka" as events unfolded on our flight across the Pacific Ocean. I was the Captain on a Northwest Airlines 747 flying from Tokyo to San Francisco when we learned of the attacks on the World Trade Center. My first thoughts were of "Bojinka". Bojinka or “Big Bang” was the the 1995 plot conceived and nearly carried out by the terrorist Ramzi Yousef. It's designed end? To blow up a large number of American airliners, all crossing the Pacific Ocean on the same night. As an aircrewman, I recall being briefed in detail as information about this plot became available. Although I knew “Bojinka” was eventually stopped it was only after hearing a small portion of the details of the 9/11/2001 hijackings that the word ”Bojinka” kept working it’s way into my thoughts, forcing me to wonder if, perhaps, this time they had succeeded.

The Longest Flight of My Life

We were late. A typhoon had struck the Tokyo area and flights were pushed back to accommodate delayed incoming flights. We eventually became airborne at 1802 local (6:02pm), approximately two and a half hours after scheduled departure. It was a normal flight in all respects until approximately three hours had passed on our transPacific flight. It was then that we heard the first terrifying words crackling across VHF frequency 123.45. All international airliners monitor this common radio frequency so that they may communicate with one another in flight. The first words came from an American Airlines flight. "Are any of you getting what I am getting over company frequency?” “Ya, I am getting it”, another American flight responded. “Seems a light airplane hit the North Tower of the World Trade center”. A United Airlines flight entered the conversation. “I am getting that info as well but they are telling us it is an airliner”. American: “Now we are being told that
another plane hit the South Tower of the World Trade center and we are getting reports that they were hijacked airliners”. An unidentified aircraft spoke up “Jeezus, what is happening back there?”
American: “We are getting reports now that it is four hijacked airliners and one of them just hit the Pentagon. United, did you see names of the companies they came from?” United responded quietly, almost in a whisper, exposing his disbelief, “Two American, two United.” Another unidentified voice: “God help them.”
At this point I turned to the First Officer and told him I wanted him to pull the power back and conserve fuel. I had no complete details of what had happened but I knew that pulling the power back gave me two things: more time and more fuel. I would need both before the night was over.

C.A., my First Officer and Zack My Second Officer, or Flight Engineer, awaited instructions as I sat in the left seat of my 747-200 thinking that I had never seen or heard of anything like this. First, I assigned the primary tasks of flying and navigation to Chuck. He is a skilled, experienced aviator and it was critical at this point that someone was watching everything related to the the aircraft staying straight and level and on course. I would check in with him frequently as the night progressed. Next, I spoke with Zeek to ensure that all systems were operating normally and that the fuel was being used up at an acceptable rate.
When I was satisfied that the aircraft was safely flying I turned my attention to the Flight Attendants. We had a veteran crew on board but to this point none of them knew of the events as they were unfolding on the east coast. I called for the Purser (Lead Flight Attendant) to come up to the cockpit. As I was preparing to talk with the Purser, wondering just what I was going to say and how I was going to say it, frequency 123.45 continued to carry the news of 9/11. This time the information was of a flight that had apparently struck the ground in Pennsylvania. Whatever it was that was going on it appeared that we were heading right for it as we continued eastbound over the Pacific.

"Hi Tim. What can i do for you?". Pam, our Purser, had just arrived in the flight deck. I asked her to sit down in the jump seat just behind me as I started to explain what I knew of the events as they were occurring in the U.S. Stunned is the only word that can describe the look on her face as she lowered her head to try to adsorb all that I had told her. We took the next few minutes to decide on a plan as to how to inform the rest of the crew and to communicate the need to watch carefully for potential threats. What I said to the Flight Attendants would be extremely important so I wanted to get it right on the first try. An "All Call" was the most effective way to communicate to all of the flight attendants at one time so Pam went back into the cabin of the aircraft to prepare the flight attendants for what I was about to say.

"1 left, 3 left, 4 right, 2 left" the flight attendants checked in, each at their assigned station, ready to listen. I started talking. "People, there is a disaster unfolding on the east coast of the United States. We have very little information but this is what we know". I could hear faint gasps as I went through the information knowing this must be scaring the hell out of them. I continued "I want each of you to stay calm, walk about the cabin as you normally would, look for unusual behavior. There is to be no gathering in the galleys unless you are working and, while you are in your jump seats, please review your manual sections regarding hijacking procedures. This is a sad day for all of us but it is extremely important that you remain focused and remember at all times that the people on this aircraft are depending on us to get them to their destination safely. That is our job and that is what we shall do." As they signed off I could not help to consider how lucky I was to have this group of flight attendants on board.

I had little time to consider my next step when a message came across our inter- company communications radio. "GO TO HIGH ALERT!” it seemed to scream at us. That was the sum total of the message. There were three former military aviators on the flight deck and, although we all knew what "HIGH ALERT" meant, we also knew that the term “High Alert” was almost exclusively used in a military context. What did this message mean? Communications with our company was extremely limited at this time so trying to contact operations was out of the question. As we studied our manuals to find the definition of "HIGH ALERT" it come to me that we, Flight #28, Tokyo to San Francisco, were essentially on our own to decide how this flight was to be conducted. The company's attentions were focused entirely on emptying the airways and getting all company aircraft on the ground as soon as possible. We continued across the Pacific, not at all clear where we would land or whether we would even be able to land in our own country. The situation had become even more complicated.

"Tim, this is Pam". Pam spoke to me over the inter phone. " I think we may have trouble. There is a gentleman who appears to be very confused and he is sweating profusely while holding on tight to his briefcase. Repeated attempts to converse with him have been met with quiet, almost whispering responses. What would you like us to do?"
I could see our situation getting a lot worse before it got any better."Pam, keep a close eye on this guy and check around him to see if there are any others that may be communicating with him through gestures, eye contact or notes. Let me know immediately if you see anything that furthers your suspicion". Less than two hours from the San Francisco airport. I figured if there was going to be a move by any hijackers it would be coming soon.

It was time to talk with my First and Second Officer about how to protect the flight deck from attack. We looked at all available weapons and decided that the two crash axes on the flight deck would indeed be the most effective. We talked a little about what we would do if an intruder tried to come through the door. It was here that I realized none of us had a clue as to how we were going to do this. I said what I thought had to be said. “Zack, you are the first line of defense. If someone succeeds in opening the door you are to swing with all your might and you are not to stop until that person is dead. C.A., you have the second axe so you are next. If they get this far you are to use the crash axe and swing hard. If they get to me I will do all I can to prevent them from getting control of our aircraft”. I said “Killing someone, even someone who is threatening you with bodily harm will not be an easy thing, especially with an axe. If you have to defend this cockpit, do not think of it as defending yourself. Think of it as protecting the lives of the people that we have on board. That may make the job less complicated”. I was done talking. We were as ready as we would ever be.


It was time to contact Oakland Center, the first Air Traffic Control agency that airliners headed for the Bay area speak with after a trans-Pacific flight.
"Oakland Center this is NWA 28, flight level 390". "Flight 28, squawk XXXX. You are cleared direct to the San Francisco VOR".
Just as I was about to read back the directions provided by ATC they followed with a statement that, to this day, brings cold shivers down my spine. "Northwest 28 are you declaring an emergency?”

The fact that they asked this very unusual question spoke volumes to me about how serious they were taking our arrival. We were a large aircraft coming into the US with a full compliment of passengers and crew and a fair amount of fuel on board. This last fact was due to the fuel conservation measures I had put in place hours before. I glanced at the other two aviators with a look that said "What in the hell does that mean? We don't have an emergency." C.A. looked over at me from the flight controls, said nothing then returned to the job of flying the aircraft. I knew he was thinking exactly what I was thinking. What next?

Zack spoke up, "Tim, is there a chance we have been intercepted by US military fighters? Given the situation, I would expect there to be at least two of them trailing us right now." That's when it dawned on me that our situation had just become considerably more dangerous and the wrong word or an errant turn of the aircraft could seriously enhance the possibility that we would be shot down. These guys are in the mood, I thought and I can’t blame them.

As I considered what I was going to tell air traffic control, Pam called to the cockpit. "Tim, this guy is still acting very nervous but we are watching him closely. Everyone is awake and we are preparing for descent. The lights are up in the cabin and all flight attendants are focused and prepared for anything that may occur. Unless you have further instructions I will to continue my walk through the cabin in preparation for landing. I will call you immediately if there is anything further to report". I responded to her comments with "Thank you, Pam". As I did this I took a moment to thank God that I had this competent, focused Purser on this flight. I had little time for reflection as ATC, again, asked if we had an emergency. They were becoming more insistent. I said "No sir, we do not have an emergency". It took only seconds for them to reply. "You will not be permitted to land on American soil if you do not declare an emergency". Things just got worse.

I was now between a rock and a hard place and the lives of everyone on board were riding on my next response to ATC. I worked to collect my thoughts and consider the possibilities. First and foremost, we did not have an emergency. We had fuel and there was no significant adverse activity in the passenger compartment of the aircraft. But ATC did not know that nor did they trust that we were telling them the truth. I am certain that they were considering the prospect that a hijacker had already taken control of the aircraft and was speaking to them in perfect English.

Another question kept coming to the forefront as I considered what I would say to Oakland Center. Had we been intercepted by US military jet fighters and how would the pilots of those aircraft interpret the situation if I declare an emergency? First, I knew we had been intercepted. There were fighters on our tail. I was certain of that. I also knew that I did not have an emergency. So, if I were to declare an emergency how would the fighters read that statement? Would it get me one step closer to oblivion by stating that I had an emergency and having someone interpret that as a hijacking? I simply did not know. What I did know was that if I got this wrong, perhaps having it misinterpreted by someone hell bent on preventing a West Coast” 9/11, then I just signed a death warrant for all those aboard my aircraft. I was being forced to up the ante and I had no illusions about the mood of the leaders of our country at that moment. They were angry. And, in their minds, Northwest 28 was in the perfect position to be the next hijacked plane to head for a populated target. They would never let that happen. Jeezus!
I quietly said a prayer, picked up the microphone and said "Northwest 28 is declaring an emergency". All I could think at that instant, “God help us”.

"Roger, Flight #28, you are cleared to descend and maintain flight level 210". I repeated back the instructions. With that response from ATC I felt that we were in no immediate danger of being shot down so I turned my attention to the aircraft. It was time to go down. C.A. slowly pulled the 4 power levers back, lowered the nose of the huge aircraft and started our descent. I knew that if anything was going to happen it would happen in the next 45 minutes. I suddenly felt very tired. I had been awake for almost 36 hours . I sat up in the seat, took a last sip of a cold cup of coffee and focused all of my attention on getting this 747 on the ground. I turned to C.A., who was doing a magnificent job of flying the aircraft, and said "If you are ever going to be exactly on altitude and heading, today is the day. The slightest deviation could set these fighter guys off!" He nodded and returned his attention to the aircraft instruments. He knew precisely what I meant

The possibility of an attempted hijacking still loomed large as I concentrated on the clearances given to me by ATC. "Northwest 28, heading 090 degrees, descend and maintain 6,000 feet" was their next command. The altitude made sense but the heading seemed strange. We should be headed in the direction of the airport, not away from it. I could not tell if I was justified in my concern or if I was becoming overly sensitive to the nuances of each ATC clearance. All I could do at this point was trust that ATC wanted us on the ground as much as we wanted to be there and follow their instructions to the letter.

As I looked down at the airport it occurred to me that we were landing at a place where time stood still. Not a plane was moving through the air or on the ground. Not a word spoken over any of the usually busy radio frequencies for approach, tower or ground. Surreal is the only word that can describe the scene as we descended for landing at San Francisco International Airport.

With the flight attendants watching closely in the passenger compartment and my First Officer ably handling the 650,000 lb. aircraft, I had a moment to consider whether or not I had made all the right moves, done all that I could to fulfill my obligation to the passengers and crew on this flight. I was shaken from my thoughts by C.A.'s no nonsense request. "Gear down, flaps 20". Chuck barked out the command to prepare the ship for its final descent and landing. It was a clear day, maximum visibility with little or no wind. On any other occasion I would have been looking forward to a wonderful layover in the "City by the Bay". Today, though, I felt as though I had just spent over 9 hours shadowboxing with the Devil, swinging with all my might and never knowing if I had hit or missed.
And I was not finished.

I took a deep breath, said another small prayer and glanced over at C.A. and Zack. "OK, gentleman, here we go". Chuck called for “Flaps 25, landing checklist”. I repeated C.A.s' command and went through all the needed moves to accomplish the required tasks. The plane rumbled as the gear and flaps slid noisily into place. The landing checklist was done. All that was left was to land the plane. I could not help thinking about whether or not a hijacker may strike or a missile may down us even at this late stage in the game.

With a slight rotation of the nose the main wheels of the 747 touched down smoothly as C.A. pulled all four reverse levers to the full back position, using the engines’ reverse thrust to assist the brakes in stopping the aircraft. "80 knots, OK, C.A., I've got the aircraft" I said as we slowed to a safe taxi speed. Over 6 hours had gone by since the disaster we now know as “9/11” occurred.

As I taxied to the gate I looked around the airport noticing that not a single plane, truck or car was moving. "Unbelievable" was my only thought. Pulling into the gate, setting the brakes and shutting down the engines, C.A., Zack and I finished with our post flight checklists. We watched the passengers disembark into a world that would be much different from the one they new upon leaving Tokyo. A world where fear would rule , wars would begin and perceived personal safety would become more important than just about anything else. In the last 12 hours our world had, indeed, changed. Perhaps, forever.
I thanked C.A. and Zack for their superb work and got out of the seat to talk with the flight attendants. The plane was empty of passengers by now. I thanked the Purser for her extraordinary efforts. Without her there is no telling how this would have all turned out. I told all of the flight attendants, many of whom were crying, that they had truly made a difference on this night and to drive safely as they left to go home to their families.

As I left the aircraft and walked through an empty terminal my thoughts drifted to all that was and all that might have been. From the first words uttered over the common frequency almost seven hours before to the nervous passenger hanging on to his briefcase to the interception by jet fighters and the possibility of being shot down, this had been a long, long night. I was exhausted. When I arrived at the hotel I went to my room and immediately turned on the TV to see for the first time the devastation caused by the hijackers. I could not believe my eyes. I recall wishing that I was home with my children. As I sat on my bed watching the countless, repeated showings of the WTC collapse, fatigue took hold. I put my head in my hands and cried. I cried for the airmen, firemen, policemen and people that were in the Twin Towers and Pentagon that had perished that day. I cried for the lost air crewman. It occurred to me that I was merely tired. They were gone forever.