Learning a Lot Without Going Flying

In November, I got to participate in Wings for All, an event with The Arc, an organization dedicated to promoting and protecting the human rights of people with developmental and intellectual disabilities. Together, we provided participants and their families the chance to experience a lot of the sensations of a flight, but with two major differences: We never left the ground, and we had a lot of sympathetic souls at the ready to answer questions. 

Captain Mark Hanna and I took up a position beyond the check-in counter where the event began for most participants—we handed out trading cards and pilot wings as we began a discussion with our new friends that would mill around the area for a few minutes before we began to work our way through the security checkpoint and headed toward the gate. I’d expected mainly young folks, whether it was told to me or an expectation of my own, and there were plenty of kids. But there were also participants with gray hair. And all ages between. 

I asked several participants about parts of the process they might fear, or what they didn’t understand. I told them that both at the event and on a real flight they should speak up and ask questions because things that concern them might go unnoticed elsewhere. Hanna had participated in a similar event earlier, and he said that several people had difficulties stepping from the jetway onto the plane because a gap of light was visible between the platform and fuselage, a situation remedied easily enough by some creative thinking. A sheet of cardboard or some blankets wedged into the gap to make it seem like the jet is attached to the walkway is all it took to remedy his situation.

On board, we had an extra flight attendant, several  station staff from Madison Dane County Regional Airport (KMSN) in Wisconsin, and volunteers in addition to the participants who helped fill in the seats to make a realistically loaded cabin. Everyone worked in concert to ensure a smooth boarding. We roamed the aisle to ensure that all questions were answered and that any fears were allayed before we began doing airplane things. 

Doing those, for an event like this, brings us into a realm of things well out of the ordinary. First of all, I called the tower on the phone that morning and explained what we were doing. A random airliner doesn’t often call up for push and taxi without an associated flight plan, and to do so with a desire to taxi around the airport for 10-15 minutes is even more unusual. 

I outlined the event we were participating in, what we were hoping to provide for those involved, and the possibility we might have to stop unexpectedly if someone stood up or reacted poorly to an unexpected stimulus. Our crew briefing covered similar considerations, and where the extra flight attendant should be—we chose to station the spare flight attendant in the emergency exit row, positioning them to prevent an unexpected evacuation or aid with a necessary evacuation.

As a flight crew, we had an additional threat—we had two captains and zero first officers. Since my upgrade was much more recent, I volunteered for the right seat because those flows and procedures are more recent in my mind. Our fleet standards captain, who oversees our check airmen, verified that we were legal for such a thing and gave me a list of items to brush up on ahead of the event to include the first officer’s duties in an evacuation,  associated flows, and engine start/shutdown procedures. 

As I fired up the APU, Hanna made an announcement explaining that I was starting an engine in the tail and told them the things they might expect to see, feel, and hear as we started engines on the airplane—the sound of spooling turbines, changes in air conditioning flow, and flicker of lights as we shifted power sources. 

We pushed back, started an engine and called ground for taxi, and we plotted out our route. As we taxied, we did our normal flows and checks before starting the second engine to simulate a normal flight as much as possible. As we reached the runway, we added a brief summary to “flight attendants, prepare the cabin” to make it clear that on a normal flight, the increased noise, acceleration, and vibration of a takeoff would come next. We then taxied across the departure runway and down the back side of the field, before recrossing the departure end of the departure runway, where we made another announcement that noises would accompany our after-landing procedures and the engine shutdown leading to parking at the gate. 

As our friends deplaned, many stayed behind for pictures on the flight deck. There were a couple of avgeeks in our midst. Over the course of the event, there were a lot of handshakes, a number of hugs, and a few high-fives. I expected to answer a lot of questions. I didn’t expect to be asking nearly as many as I answered. 

There are 35 times as many passenger seats in the jet I fly for a living than there are in my Mooney, so statistically speaking, I’ll probably never handle as many special-needs passengers in my airplane as I will at work. But there are some good takeaways for us in the GA world. 

In a light aircraft, though, “special needs” can take on a different meaning when you consider every passenger is within reach of the cockpit controls. I recently took two sisters we fostered years ago for their first airplane flight. As we threaded our way around and beneath the Atlanta Class B airspace, transited one Class D airspace before landing at another Class D airport, I was juggling radios, coping with crazy traffic at our destination (tower was denying touch-and-go requests due to volume, and I was No. 4 for the runway at one point), and still had to tend the two girls scream-laughing into the intercom. I found myself thankful for the intercom’s isolation functions.

When you’re taking someone new to flying—or new to our kind of flying—for a trip around the pattern, take a moment to view our world through the lens of their experience. In addition to whatever you’re using for a safety briefing, give them a heads-up of what they will experience. Banked turns are not something most folks really experience outside of flying. The up-and-down bobbles and bumps of maintaining altitude can be uncomfortable for a first-timer. Let them know ahead of time that there will be moments you must ignore their questions—such as when you’re being instructed to follow a Cherokee you haven’t seen yet that’s just a mile off the nose. 

When you take a moment to see things through their eyes, it serves as a revival of sorts for us as well. It’s a reminder that while there’s good science behind everything we do in airplanes, there is a little bit of magic and art sprinkled in for good measure.