thedrifter
02-02-09, 08:34 AM
Article published: Feb 2, 2009
Ramblin': Pilot gives props for emergency landing
MARION — Anyone who has flown an airplane with passengers aboard most certainly gives props to Capt. Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger III. He's the pilot who ditched a US Airways Airbus 320 in the Hudson River, keeping the aircraft intact and saving the lives of 155 people.
"Flying is hours of boredom punctuated by moments of stark terror," says Chuck Hall, 75, of Marion, a 24,000-hour veteran pilot who's had a few close calls.
"The amazing decision was that, 'we can't make that airport.' He made that instantly," Chuck adds.
While we haven't heard much from Sully, reports say he told investigators his first instinct "was to duck" as the plane hit a "wall of big, dark-brown birds." Both jet engines failed due to the bird strike shortly after takeoff.
In the seconds that followed, Sully took control from his co-pilot, decided he was flying "too low, too slow" to return to LaGuardia or make it to Teterboro airports, guided the plane expertly above densely populated New York City and put her down as gently as possible in the river.
When it was all over, and everyone was safe, word came that as people thanked Sully for his heroic actions, he simply said, "You're welcome."
"That's what we're trained to do," Chuck says. "We're paid to do it."
For 37 years, from 1965 until retirement in 2002, Chuck "Stocking Cap Charlie" flew airplanes for Collins Radio in Cedar Rapids. His stocking cap, worn October through June, is his "Linus security blanket" named after the Peanuts comic strip character.
Early in his career Chuck piloted a 48-passenger Convair 240, often between Cedar Rapids and Dallas. He flew Beechcrafts and Gulfstreams, Pipers and Swearingens.
In 1983 Chuck joined chief pilot Dave Selzer and mechanic Randy Weyer to become the first to fly across the Atlantic Ocean using the Global Positioning System. They flew a Sabreliner 65 from Milwaukee to Iceland to Paris, relying on five working GPS satellites orbiting Earth at the time.
Born in 1933 in Illinois, young Chuck often flew with his father who helped a barnstormer on the circuit. For his pay, Chuck's father was allowed to fly a Stinson airplane between appearances.
"That," Chuck says, "is what kind of threw the seeds."
With no money and the war in Korea, Chuck figured he'd go the military way to earn his wings. Disappointed when he failed the Navy's eyesight requirement — "I think that was the last time I had tears in my eyes. It broke my dreams" — he joined the Marines to work on aircraft and take advantage of the GI bill for a college education.
By accident, he found himself registered for a pilot's class and learned the sight requirement wasn't as strict — 20/50 vision was fine as long as it was correctable to 20/20.
Stocking Cap Charlie took off on a career that included stints in Wisconsin and Michigan before establishing his home base with Collins. For 25 years he was an FAA Aviation Safety Counselor and, despite retirement, remains an FAA Designated Pilot Examiner.
Chuck has heard the thump of birds into an engine and smelled burning feathers, but never had to put down for that. He's also seen electronic equipment smoke in the cabin and had a close call in Michigan when he reset the altimeter on a Beechcraft and dropped 150 feet just in time to avoid an overhead DC-3.
His closest call involved a helicopter with four others aboard. During a test flight at 400 feet, the tail rotor lost power. As the copter spun six times, Chuck pushed pedals and levers that did no good. He gave it power at the last second to drift into an open field west of Lindale Mall in Cedar Rapids. The main rotor hit a tree, tipping the helicopter on its side.
"Nobody got hurt," Chuck says. "I had one cut above my eye. It took one stitch."
Of everything that goes through a pilot's mind during an emergency, the safety of passengers tops the list.
"Most pilots," Stocking Cap Charlie says, "have the idea, if I'm getting there safe, they're getting there safe."
Ellie
Ramblin': Pilot gives props for emergency landing
MARION — Anyone who has flown an airplane with passengers aboard most certainly gives props to Capt. Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger III. He's the pilot who ditched a US Airways Airbus 320 in the Hudson River, keeping the aircraft intact and saving the lives of 155 people.
"Flying is hours of boredom punctuated by moments of stark terror," says Chuck Hall, 75, of Marion, a 24,000-hour veteran pilot who's had a few close calls.
"The amazing decision was that, 'we can't make that airport.' He made that instantly," Chuck adds.
While we haven't heard much from Sully, reports say he told investigators his first instinct "was to duck" as the plane hit a "wall of big, dark-brown birds." Both jet engines failed due to the bird strike shortly after takeoff.
In the seconds that followed, Sully took control from his co-pilot, decided he was flying "too low, too slow" to return to LaGuardia or make it to Teterboro airports, guided the plane expertly above densely populated New York City and put her down as gently as possible in the river.
When it was all over, and everyone was safe, word came that as people thanked Sully for his heroic actions, he simply said, "You're welcome."
"That's what we're trained to do," Chuck says. "We're paid to do it."
For 37 years, from 1965 until retirement in 2002, Chuck "Stocking Cap Charlie" flew airplanes for Collins Radio in Cedar Rapids. His stocking cap, worn October through June, is his "Linus security blanket" named after the Peanuts comic strip character.
Early in his career Chuck piloted a 48-passenger Convair 240, often between Cedar Rapids and Dallas. He flew Beechcrafts and Gulfstreams, Pipers and Swearingens.
In 1983 Chuck joined chief pilot Dave Selzer and mechanic Randy Weyer to become the first to fly across the Atlantic Ocean using the Global Positioning System. They flew a Sabreliner 65 from Milwaukee to Iceland to Paris, relying on five working GPS satellites orbiting Earth at the time.
Born in 1933 in Illinois, young Chuck often flew with his father who helped a barnstormer on the circuit. For his pay, Chuck's father was allowed to fly a Stinson airplane between appearances.
"That," Chuck says, "is what kind of threw the seeds."
With no money and the war in Korea, Chuck figured he'd go the military way to earn his wings. Disappointed when he failed the Navy's eyesight requirement — "I think that was the last time I had tears in my eyes. It broke my dreams" — he joined the Marines to work on aircraft and take advantage of the GI bill for a college education.
By accident, he found himself registered for a pilot's class and learned the sight requirement wasn't as strict — 20/50 vision was fine as long as it was correctable to 20/20.
Stocking Cap Charlie took off on a career that included stints in Wisconsin and Michigan before establishing his home base with Collins. For 25 years he was an FAA Aviation Safety Counselor and, despite retirement, remains an FAA Designated Pilot Examiner.
Chuck has heard the thump of birds into an engine and smelled burning feathers, but never had to put down for that. He's also seen electronic equipment smoke in the cabin and had a close call in Michigan when he reset the altimeter on a Beechcraft and dropped 150 feet just in time to avoid an overhead DC-3.
His closest call involved a helicopter with four others aboard. During a test flight at 400 feet, the tail rotor lost power. As the copter spun six times, Chuck pushed pedals and levers that did no good. He gave it power at the last second to drift into an open field west of Lindale Mall in Cedar Rapids. The main rotor hit a tree, tipping the helicopter on its side.
"Nobody got hurt," Chuck says. "I had one cut above my eye. It took one stitch."
Of everything that goes through a pilot's mind during an emergency, the safety of passengers tops the list.
"Most pilots," Stocking Cap Charlie says, "have the idea, if I'm getting there safe, they're getting there safe."
Ellie