When a Pilot Flies West

Losing a friend to an aircraft accident is always hard

When a pilot dies, we say they "Flew West". Sobering fact: If you are a pilot long enough, eventually you will know a pilot who flies West in an aircraft accident.

My very first pilot job, flight instructing at a tiny airport in the Great Plains of Nebraska, led to a ride in a jaunty red-and-white Pitts Special. I absolutely loved aerobatics! Seeing my enthusiasm, the pilot-owner pulled out the International Aerobatic Club membership directory, and slowly paged through it, pointing out the names he had marked with an X . . . page after page . . . X after X.

Those were the dead ones.

“Aerobatics is incredibly fun, but it can be unforgiving,” he told me. “These are my friends and competitors who died, doing aerobatics.”

I was undeterred.

My second job was flying for a Part 135 charter operator in the high mountains of New Mexico. Soon I discovered that flying light freight single-pilot in small general aviation aircraft is also how some pilots die.

The swaggering braggadocio of the pilot cadre certainly doesn’t help. In their radio chatter (on a frequency they did not know I was listening to), they pushed each other to push the envelope, and boasted about how fast they could make a run between two cities, how low they could descend on approach before extending the landing gear.

The first accident from that time was random, however. Two pilots from a competing charter operator were flying an airplane that was a close model to the one I flew. An engine developed a pinhole leak and the extreme heat weakened the wing spar, which gave way on their flight.

Then came the accident that still haunts me.

Mountain weather can be tricky. A pressure front across a mountain range brings clear skies but very strong winds that cause a Venturi effect in mountain canyons. On his first day on the job, the novice pilot delayed his departure, waiting for conditions to improve. But apparently the pressure to complete the mission was too great — pressure by his boss? pressure by his pilot peers? pressure to prove himself to everyone? or a combination of all these? — I don’t know. He launched, taking off into the headwind. Then he did a 180 degree turn toward his destination, and the strong tailwind hurtled him towards the mountains, and only grew stronger as he maneuvered into a canyon. His plane could not climb fast enough to make it over the rising terrain.

I did not know that young pilot, yet his death still affects me today. Whenever I hear pilots bragging and egging each other on – applying peer pressure to take unnecessary risks – I remember him. And I advise newly minted commercial pilots: The time-building job of flying light freight requires growing a backbone while you grow as a pilot. Or, you can die.

Around the same time, I met Toni through The Ninety-Nines. Married with two teenagers, she got interested in aviation when her husband learned to fly and bought a plane, and then she was ALL IN. She bought a most beautiful red bird she dubbed the Red Baroness, and had an absolute blast flying it. She also kept training and became a flight instructor.

Then Toni had to grapple with the death of one of her students. This man rented a plane and pointed it straight towards a tall mountain. He did not respond to ATC’s urgent low altitude alerts, he just kept going. It looked deliberate. She really suffered, not understanding why someone would do that, and from knowing that she had been the one to teach him to fly.

About a year later, my mechanic friend Steve J called and asked if I had heard the news about Toni. My stomach dropped. She and her husband were flying home from a business conference in his airplane . . . there were scattered thunderstorms, not unusual for that season . . . their plane went down. There are no answers to our questions.

In spite of all the Xs the Pitts owner showed me, my enthusiasm for aerobatics never wavered. Over time, however, I had Xs among my own friends who Flew West.

In Tennessee, I was lucky enough to take lessons from the legendary airshow performer Marion Cole, and in Wisconsin, from the renowned instructor Jim Batterman. It was a complete shock to hear some years later that Jim had died while teaching aerobatics. Apparently a wing folded, and he and his student were not able to escape from the cabin to utilize their parachutes.

When he and I flew together at our airline, Captain Steve Andelin was also a U.S. National Aerobatic Champion and Red Bull airshow performer. He perished in an accident while practicing for an airshow.

Well-known for her achievements as a flight engineer on the SR-71 Blackbird and an aerobatic competitor in the Unlimited category,  Marta Bohn-Meyer was down-to-earth and a pleasure to know. While practicing for an upcoming competition, the canopy separated from her aircraft, possibly rendering her unconscious and unable to deploy her parachute.

More painful losses from pilot friends who Flew West: Mark (aerobatics), and Peter (engine failure), and Steve B (deliberate crash / suicide), and Rem (cause unknown), and Asti (cause unknown).

The pain of any loss hurts. It hurts more when it is in an aircraft accident, and yet more when our friend is young and represented so much potential. To those who say “they died doing something they loved” – please stop! In most cases, they were fighting to maintain control of a malfunctioning aircraft and to save themselves, right up to the final moment.

Immediately after an accident, when people jump in to comment and jump to conclusions, especially on social media, I caution them to wait for the investigation and results. Pilots are blamed, but typically, many factors are present – a series of decisions and actions by the pilot, an issue that is completely beyond their control, or a combination of both. We may know the complete story from the NTSB or FAA, later. We might even learn something new and important about aviation safety.

But not always. For some accidents, we will never get the answers we seek. It is not easy for people of our nature to live with uncertainty and unanswerable questions – especially when someone we care about has died, especially when a pilot Flies West – but this is exactly what we are asked to do.

© 2021 Jenny Beatty. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Ellie Burgin