Headwinds

Some 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. On April 4, 1979, Captain Harvey "Hoot" Gibson reached into the basket and pulled out a black marble.

Hoot's day began in Columbus, Ohio. It was day two of a three-day trip. After a routine flight from Columbus to Philadelphia, Hoot, along with his two fellow crew members, First Officer Scott Kennedy and Flight Engineer Gary Banks, departed for New York's John F. Kennedy International Airport (JFK). The weather was overcast with light winds out of the northeast and temperatures in the upper forties. A light rain fell as the wheels touched down at JFK.

After a few hours on the ground, Hoot, Scott, and Gary, along with four flight attendants, boarded aircraft N840TW. The "TW" in the plane's N number designated the plane as a Trans World Airlines (TWA) aircraft. The Boeing 727-100 was a few months shy of fourteen years old. It was one of the first 727s purchased by TWA. The new car smell, however, had long since been replaced by a malodorous mixture of sweat-soaked seatbacks, spilled drinks, vomit, cleaning chemicals, and cigarette smoke. The worn-out interior was matched on the outside with an assortment of nicks, scrapes, dents, oil stains, and two faded red stripes that ran the length of the short fuselage. Of course, nowhere did the aircraft show its age more than in the cockpit, where countless crews had left signs of their presence from the worn seats, to the fingerprints on the instruments and flight controls, to the dust and food crumbs wedged into every crevice.

Some pilots refuse to fly in such an unhealthy environment and will spend an inordinate amount of time "sanitizing" the cockpit before a flight. That wasn't the case with the previous crew on this day. The three crew members entered to find a filthy aircraft. Newspapers and empty water bottles littered the floor. Gary Banks, a detail-oriented former fighter pilot, was especially irked at the mess. He gathered up the papers and bottles while Hoot and Scott took their seats and began their preflight checks.

In the cabin, lead flight attendant Mark Moscicki prepared the aircraft for boarding. There were eighty-two passengers, two of whom were lap children, meaning age two or younger and without a ticket or assigned seat. Many of the passengers were connecting from international flights. They had already spent ten-plus hours flying to the U.S. from Portugal, Spain, Italy, Israel, and other international departure points. For these travelers, TWA 841 to Minneapolis, Minnesota, would be the last leg of a very long journey.

Of the twelve first-class seats, only six were occupied, unless one was to count the guitar case that one coach passenger secured against seat 1F. The owner of the guitar, a young, male passenger, had taken the instrument with him to his seat but soon realized that there was no space for it in coach. Since there were open seats in first class, Mark let the gentleman secure the case to a first-class seat with a seatbelt.

The flight was scheduled to depart for Minneapolis at 6:55 p.m. That time came and went as the flight was held for connecting passengers and a minor maintenance write-up. TWA 841 didn't push back from the gate until 7:49 p.m. The delay put the flight right in the middle of the evening push. Hoot taxied his Boeing 727 into position behind a long line of aircraft. Traffic congestion at JFK at this time in the evening was as common as the traffic jams on the New York freeways during rush hour. All Hoot could do was inch his plane forward and wait his turn for takeoff.

Despite the delays, it was a relaxed cockpit. Hoot made sure of that on day one. His first briefing to his fellow crew members included his disclosure that this was his first trip back as a 727 captain. He had just returned from a three-month medical leave after suffering from a broken ankle. Prior to that he had spent fourteen months on the Boeing 747 as a first officer. Hoot had flown as a 727 captain before, but he wanted his crew to treat him like a new captain. He told them to watch over him to ensure he didn't make any mistakes. The statement did two things: It let the other crew members know important facts about his currency on the aircraft, but it also put the first officer and flight engineer at ease. Hoot wasn't going to be a hard-nosed captain, the kind with whom no one likes to fly. Finally, at 8:25 PM, TWA 841 departed JFK for Minneapolis, Minnesota.

The climb to the planned cruising altitude of 35,000 feet, or flight level (FL) 350, was smooth and uneventful. After leveling off and engaging the autopilot, Hoot reached up to the overhead panel and turned off the seatbelt and no-smoking signs. He made a brief announcement over the PA and then removed his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his uniform shirt. When in the public eye, Hoot was the model of professionalism: a crisp white shirt, dark blue tie, neatly pressed pants, and polished black shoes. That professional crispness extended to his physical appearance. Hoot's dark hair and mustache were always...