A Thousand Miles From The Place I Was Born

It is SO like me to write a post about an event that happened three days ago. It sometimes takes me a little while to process information and make sense of it, I guess. In any event, everyone has by now heard the story about US Airways Flight 1549 crashing into the Hudson River on Thursday. It’s a story that’s been beaten to death on every channel, and covered from every angle to the point of ridiculousness. That’s how the media rolls, people.

But last night as I was making dinner, I was half-listening to the evening news (I often use my TV as background noise when I’m cooking) and heard the transcript of the communication between the aircraft and the tower. I stopped what I was doing and just listened. And then, I was overcome with emotion. Lauren saw me and became concerned, “What’s wrong, Mom?” It took me a minute to understand why I was so moved by this story. I mean, I don’t normally become overwhelmed when I listen to the evening news, even when it’s tragic. I’m not callous by any means, but it’s become rather common-place to hear about plane crashes and other such events. So why did this affect me so much?

I have one of those jobs where sometimes, miracles happen in the course of a normal day. When I first became a nurse, every time I walked on the floor, I would worry that that day would be “The Day” when something would go wrong, and would I be ready to handle it? I was stressed and fearful all the time. But after a few dozen of “Those Days”, I realized that when something bad happened, I would be ready to handle it. When an emergency presents itself, I experience the strangest dichotomy of emotions. I am clear and present and calm, while at the very same time, my heart is pounding like a drum and my nerves are on edge. It’s the adrenaline effect, I realize. But even in the midst of what would normally feel like a panic attack, my mind is sharp and I know what to do. And I am calm enough to be able to do it.

But when one of those situations happens and I get the job done, I am so often met with praise at the end. People have called me a hero, and I always feel uncomfortable with that. I always say, “I’m not a hero. I was just doing my job.” And indeed I was. But I suppose there is something to be said for keeping a cool head in the midst of chaos. For knowing what needs to be done and doing it. For saving lives.

When I read the transcript of the communication between Flight 1549 and the tower, I hear that calm. I hear that voice that says, “I know what to do and I’m going to do it.” I hear heroism.

The Captain, Chesley B. Sullenberger III, and the First Officer, Jeffrey B. Skiles, saw the birds in their windscreen. Captain Sullenberger’s first reaction, even, was to duck. In that split second, I am certain that they knew. And when they heard the thud and the engines became silent, they knew.

And then they acted.

Captain Sullenberger declared, “My aircraft,” and Mr. Skiles gave his acknowledgment, “Your aircraft.” In our hospital during a Code Blue, the highest-ranking physician in the room makes this sort of declaration, too: “My code.” I’m in charge. This one is MY responsibility. And Captain Sullenberger declared it without a moment’s hesitation. That is heroism.

They tried to restart the engines but they hadn’t reached an altitude that allowed them enough time to complete the checklist. They were “too low, too slow,” and they knew they were running out of time. Could they make it across the Hudson to Teterboro Airport? They determined that without enough altitude and engine thrust, they were running the risk of crashing into a populated area, which would have been disastrous.

In the last communication from the plane, someone, probably Skiles, told the tower: “We can’t do it. We’re gonna end up in the Hudson.” And with that, Captain Sullenberger and Mr. Skiles put that giant aircraft, full of fuel, down into the Hudson River as gently as humanly possible. Watch this video and see for yourself:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZpUPvoPmDw&eurl=http://punditkitchen.com/2009/01/17/us-airways-1549-crash-video/&feature=player_embedded]

But Captain Sullenberger and Mr. Skiles were not the only heroes that day. There were three seasoned flight attendants on board: Sheila Dail, Doreen Welsh, and Donna Dent. Each of them had over 25 years of experience with US Airways. And these remarkable women, within 30 seconds of impact, started evacuating the passengers out onto the wings of the plane. Despite their own quite serious injuries, they acted. That is heroism.

There were the commuter ferries and private vessels who responded within 5 minutes to the crash site and began to pluck passengers out of the frigid waters. The captains, crews and commuter passengers on those vessels did not hesitate to rush to the scene and do what they could to help. That is heroism.

The emotion that I felt when I listened to the news was partly because I can understand – to some small degree – how the people involved must have felt. That moment where, regardless of your own situation, you just step into action and do what you’ve been trained to do. Are they heroes? Oh absolutely, they are. But I’m sure each and every one of them would deny it. That is heroism.