Supervisors

When I first started out there, Supervisors used to maintain currency on the radar. For the most part, this was a really bad thing. They just didn't work it often enough to stay sharp, or remember any of the changes that had taken place since they last worked it.

Like MH. I was on his D-side at Litchfield. We used to own a shelf in the northern part of the sector, over Toledo approach from nine thousand and above. Several months prior Toledo approach had taken over that airspace up to ten thousand feet.

There's a Detroit Metro sattelite airport arrival fix in that airspace called CRUXX that we have the aircraft cross at nine thousand feet.

We didn't own that airspace any more, so we had to handoff those aircraft to Toledo Approach.

See where I'm heading? Yeah, you've got it. MH clears the first sattelite guy to cross CRUXX at nine thousand. I tell him we don't own the airspace any more, and jump on the line with Toledo Approach and point the guy out.

Next sattelite guy comes along, and damned if MH didn't clear him to cross CRUXX at nine thousand.

And the next.

I gave up trying to get him to understand that he couldn't do that, and just pointed out everone that was crossing CRUXX to Toledo.

Fortunately, supervisors aren't allowed to work the radar any more.

Unfortunately, it took a near mid-air to institute that policy.

Free At Last

The chief of my facility and the head of Human Resources had me come in today to sign the decision letter stating as of close of business tomorrow, I am no longer employed by the F.A.A.

With the direction the agency has gone, I'm not feeling sorry about that. But I did feel bad leaving the building for the last time. Leaving people I'd worked with for over nine years. Leaving friends I'd likely never see again. Leaving a job I loved more than anything else.

The bright side is; I never have to report for work again!

Sounds like it's time for a couple of beers. Or six packs, as the case may be.

EK

We had this one controller that had the people skills of a rabid dog. His initials were EK.

One day I was sitting on his D-side, and one of the nicest guys we had there came up and asked EK if he wanted a break.

EK snaps at TB. TB just grins and says "You might want to smile when you say that."

EK goes off the deep end. Nothing new there. Provides a little extra entertainment. Except today, it's providing me with a whole lot of extra entertainment.

EK starts ranting "I've been working this god damned job for 28 years and if I want to fucking smile I'll fucking smile. No piss ass newbie is going to fucking tell me what the fuck to do..."

You get the idea. Takes him several minutes to wind down.

Best part is; when he unplugs and turns around to find the channel 5 news camera filming him.

God I loved my job.

Oshkosh B'fuckme

The Oshkosh Air Show is the one time of the year everybody and their dog gets into whatever cheap piece of flying machine they've bought, or slapped together in their garage. Their equipment is barely functional, their radios suck, and their knowledge of ATC and ATC phraseology is minimal.

And there are thousands of them that take to the sky and head for Oshkosh.

Most of them fly at or below eight thousand feet. Which really sucks in our Flint Sector where we own to the ground, but can't see anyone below twelve thousand feet.

So we have to dust off our brains and try to remember all those manual separation rules we have to use when we can't see the planes.

I was working the D-side, and GM was working the radar. Here's where the trouble started:

"Center, November one-five would like direct to skdfmas."

GM looks at me, I shrug, I have no idea what the pilot said.

"November one-five, unable."

"Center General Motors two-thirty-four requesting direct destination."

"General Motors two-thirty-four, cleared direct to your destination."

Time passes and we're waiting for November one-five to report ten south of Bad Axe. And waiting. And waiting.

GM finally says: "November one-five, say position."

"Ah, we're five miles east of the Saginaw VOR."

That puts him fifty miles WEST of where he's supposed to be. It also puts him in the center of the Saginaw approach control. We'd done no coordination with Saginaw. This is a big "Oh Shit" moment for us.

I jump on the line with Saginaw. "Saginaw approach, Flint on the twelve."

"Saginaw."

"You see a four-three-one-seven beacon code about five east of your VOR?"

"Yeah. We've been watching him since he entered our airspace."

"He's one of ours that got away from us. It's November seven-zero-one-five. Don't know where he's going, but suspect it's direct to his destination."

Saginaw laughs at me, tells me "Point-out approved" and says they'll let me know when he's radar with Minnie.

See, here's what we figured happened. Because November one-fives radio sucked he missed some of the transmissions. He did snatch up the "direct to your destination" clearance, even though it was for a different aircraft. We never heard him because everyone else on the frequency had a better radio and walked right over his transmissions.

Just something for you general aviation pilots to think about...

He's not God

Though I'm sure he thinks of himself as the diety, the pres isn't.

This time of year especially, when it gets fairly warm during the day, and cold at night. That's the perfect combination for morning fog. And yes, fog delays air traffic. And the simple truth is, nobody can do a thing about the fog. Not that there's any of that this morning.

Guess I'm ranting because I've got HNN on and they're jumping on these paltry "2 minute delays". They have got to be making that up. 2 minutes? There's no such thing. Hell, we don't even record a delay unless it's 15 minutes or more.

And yes, this is the busiest flying day of the year.

Pushin' Tin

They'd had weather all night. No one had been able to get off the ground at Detroit and they had a bunch of loaded planes waiting to launch. Me, PK, and GR came on for the mid shift and relieved the last of the afternoon shift guys.

Detroit calls, and I happen to be working the only sector that's just opening up from the weather. Wants to know if we can't do something to get these guys airborne.

I take a look at the strips. There's easily eighty-ninety aircraft waiting to go. Enough for a normal push that usually involves four sectors and ten corridors.

I tell Detroit to put all the north departures over my north gate DUNKS, to put all the east and south departures over my south gate HARWL. Ten in trail, jet to jet, prop to prop. Ask them to wait until the revised flight plans showed up.

GR and PK start amending flight plans, getting them to the first fix in Chicago Center's airspace, then back to one of their original fixes, on course. I call Chicago and make sure this is going to work for them. We're set.

For the next two hours Detroit pumps aircraft at me. I'd honestly never seen that many departures before, at one time. I knew the watch supervisor had joined us at one point and was standing behind me, watching.

I was in the zone though, just pushin' the tin. A phrase, by the way, that we don't actually use. But that's what I was doing, and I was feeling high. Everything worked like clockwork, I caught every aircraft that was coming out over the south gate that made a freaky turn towards the north line of traffic, made every handoff, made every pointout.

It was sweet.

Then it was over. All the planes that had been stuck on the ground at Detroit were airborne and on their way.

I thought, but would never say aloud "Fuck that was a lot of planes." Instead I turned to PK and said "I'm going for a smoke."

I don't know what the watch supervisor thought, he just turned and walked away.

It is a Government Operation, After All

Not long after I made FPL (Full Performance Level) I was working the nooner at Toledo Sector. Yeah, that's when Detroit Metro unloads all it's traffic set to take off around twelve, twelve-thirty.

Now some days, we really push the limit and "pump and dump" (climb and descend) the aircraft because we know they'll never get within our separation limits, without really waiting for them to have a clear shot.

Fortunately, this wasn't one of the days I was doing that.

Anyway, I'm still busting my ass climbing and descending guys, taking handoffs, making point-outs, switching aircraft. I'm in the zone, and everything is working out just fine.

Sandusky Sector calls me and tells me to put this one guy on a heading for Fort Wayne HI. I confirm, hang up with SKY, and broadcast to "Northwest one-twenty-two, fly heading one-seven-zero, vectors traffic."

Nothing.

I repeat the clearance.

Nothing.

I call to another aircraft.

Nothing.

I switch to my standby frequencies.

Nothing.

I switch to my last resort frequencies.

Nothing.

I call SKY to let them know the aircraft never received the heading, then turn around to find the supervisor. Meanwhile my D-side is trying to call Indy Center to have them take a handoff they're not taking.

The supervisor comes over.

"Madge, I've lost my frequencies."

She looks at me, "Did you try your backups?"

I look at her. "I don't think you understand, I've lost all my frequencies."

She blinks at me, and I can see understanding wash over her face. My D-side turns to me just then and says "I think we've lost the land lines as well."

I look back at Madge, she cusses, and heads off for the desk.

Now there's nothing I can do with the planes. They'll just have to realize sooner or later that I never switched them and they'll go over to another frequency, eventually getting to the right one.

I can't call any other facilities for any thing.

So I start all my datablocks flashing at the next facility, kick back and watch. And yeah, I pray that nobody hits anybody else.

Turns out that all the frequencies, and just over half the landlines were taken out in our entire facility.

Five hours later they find out why. Down in the basement there's a switch, see, this plain looking switch with a note taped beneath it "Don't flip this switch".

Someone had flipped it.

WTF?

I saw the Pres. on TV saying he was going to "Open up Military airspace" to help with the congestion that occurs because Thanksgiving is the busiest flying time of the year.

To that I say "What the fuck?" Outside of Prohibited, and some Restricted airspace (the airspace over the White House is prohibited), the rest of the Military airspace is "owned" by us, the various ATC facilities.

And since we all know he's not going to "Open up" the airspace over the White House, you can bet he's not opening up any of the Prohibited airspace.

So what is the Pres. really going to be doing for the flying public?

Fuck if I know.

What Guy?

I was working the Peck sector, our high altitude sector that handles spacing to O'Hare, and Toronto, and various overflights. Anyway, I'm cutting a guy short on his route by giving him direct Pullman (cuts about two miles off, which doesn't sound like much, but it makes a world of difference when you're spacing). He's at flight level three-five-zero, and I'm descending the guy to his north to 310 because I'm making him number two, and the lower a plane is in the sky, the slower you can get him going.

Thicker air, and all that.

The next guy for O'Hare I start down, and asign him a speed because I've got my ten miles between him and the one in front, and I don't want to lose it.

"Center, who's the traffic at my twelve o'clock and ten miles, looks to be at the same altitude?"

What? I take a look and I don't see any target at that location. I select the "All Primary's" button which shows, more or less, a raw radar return on aircraft that don't have transponders (and ocassionally semi trucks, on the highway too).

Yup, there's an X (primary target symbol) in front of him, no other data.

"United three-twenty, I show a target at that location, I don't know who he is."

I glance at my D-side, and they jump on the line to see if either of the previous sectors lost an aircraft. I motion for the supervisor.

"Looks like a Speed Bird to us, and I think we're gaining on him."

"Roger. United three-twenty, descend and maintain flight level three-one-zero, speed is your discretion. Advise when you are clear of traffic."

"Descending to flight level three-one-zero, we'll advise."

My D-side leans over and says "Lukan says that's Speed Bird forty-five. I'm getting the flight plan into the computer. He's staying at thirty-five."

Good to know.

Now how did the aircraft make it into my airspace without a handoff? Simple, Lukan was extremely busy, dropped the ball on passing the flight plan, then missed the pass when the guy got near my airspace.

These things happen. Not often, but part of our job is to be prepared for anything, and I do mean anything to happen.

There's the Good ... and then there's EC

There's a reason that controllers are forced to retire before they reach their 56th birthday. It's because, as we age (as everybody ages) we slow down.

Some more so than others.

So EC is working the Lansing sector, and he's got the three o'clock push into Detroit going on. While he's descending and spacing the traffic over POLAR, the inbound fix, he gets this dog of a cargo prop off the Lansing airport.

Now we all know this guy climbs like a rock so we put him on a 110 heading which will keep him far enough away from POLAR so they can get the arrivals under him, and far enough north of the departures the go out the westside gate Dunks.

Not EC. No he knows better. Thinks he's a better controller than all of us combined. He puts the slow climber on a zero-three-zero heading which aims him right at the POLAR arrivals.

It takes him a while to notice that the guy is climbing poorly. In fact, the guy is coming together with a turboprop that's inbound to Detroit. (I'm not plugged in with him so I'm only picking up his side of the communications).

"Iron Air eighteen, expedite your climb through one-four thousand."

"Iron Air eighteen, turn left heading three-three-zero."

Well he figures he's solved the problem and goes back to switching guys to Detroit and all. A couple of minutes pass, and it finally sinks into his head that the Iron Air is coming together with the next prop for Detroit.

"Iron Air eighteen, right turn heading zero-seven-zero."

He watches for a few hits, then goes back to what he's doing. Next thing I know I hear him saying:

"Iron Air eighteen, fly heading one-two-zero."

I'm rolling my eyes because the Iron Air is being driven all over the sky for no reason.

"Iron Air eighteen, turn immediately to heading three-four-zero."

Okay, "Immediatley" is our last reserve word. You just don't use it unles someone is going to die.

"Iron Air eighteen, turn right immediately to zero-two-zero."

WFT? I flip on the receiver for his frequency at my sector, and "quick look" him.

He's got the Iron Air jammed between two props, within five miles of the guy on his left, and turing towards the guy on his right.

"Iron Air eighteen, are you in the turn?"

"Roger."

I watch as Iron Air flies within four miles of the other prop. Never in danger, but closer than our rules allow.

"Iron Air, you're not doing a very good job of it."

"Neither are you Center."

Okay, I started laughing my ass off at that one, cause the Iron Air had it right.

Oops

So I was working the Toledo sector again, and Detroit was launching their noon traffic. Unfortunately they were on runway three, which means that the aircraft depart to the northeast, then the CAVVS departures would circle right and head southwest towards that fix, while the ANNTS departures would circle left then head southeast towards that fix.

There was always a question with each pair of aircraft when they were coming towards each other on their southbound journey "How close will they get?"

They'd been doing a pretty good job of picking up the radial they were to fly to their outbound fix all day, so I was feeling confident. I climbed the next two that checked on, took a couple more handoffs, switched a few guys, climbed some others, then took a look at my departures and found the ANNTS guy had blown through his radial and was closing rapidly with the CAVVS guy.

"Execjet three-ten, amend the cleared altitude, maintain one-five thousand."

"One-five thousand, Execjet three-ten."

"American fifty-two, expedite your climb through one six thousand."

"Anerican fifty-two roger."

Damn. You think these guys could fly by the rules. Anyway, BK asks me if I want a break and I take him up on it. I run through the standard checklist then add "watch these bastards, the last two I had almost hit each other when one of them flew through the radial."

BK: "You're hot."

Shit. "Hot" means I'm keyed up and broadcasting over the frequency. "Hot" means that the "bastards" just heard me call them that.

Oh well, shit happens.

Go for the Green

One of the most valuable lessons I ever learned was to "go for the green". That meant, if you needed to climb, or descend an aircraft, or just get him out of the way of another aircraft, then aim him where there aren't any. Sounds simple, but when the "green" is behind the guy you're turning, it takes a while to accept that's the best place to take him.

So I'm working the Pandora sector one day and PK is working the Toledo sector, which is north, northeast of me. We've got really bad weather all over the place and everyone is deviating. I've got aircraft at pretty much all altitudes, and I'm busting my ass trying to get the Detroit arrivals down.

The Rosewood sector, owned by Indianapolis Center, and due south of me, starts flashing this guy at fourteen thousand. Well, I've got an aircraft at fourteen thousand, and he's deviating on a course that is going to put him, and the Indy fourteen at the same place in space in about twelve minutes.

I call Rosewood, but they don't answer. I DO NOT TAKE THE HANDOFF. See, there's rules, and one of them is that Indy can't run that aircraft into my airspace if I haven't taken the handoff.

Meanwhile I've got so many aircraft deviating into the southern part of the Toledo sector PK is "quick looking" me. (Computer command that brings all my traffic up on his scope)

I call Rosewood again. Still no answer. Not surprising when there's weather. We do priortize, and the safety of the aircraft comes before anything else. Even answering your lines.

I spend a few seconds watching PK turn a Willow Run departure due north to climb, then try Rosewood again. Still no answer, and now I'm growing concerned that they're going to go ahead and run that guy into my airspace, handoff or no.

Just then, one of the worst controllers in the Area sits down on my D-side. Without a briefing, he looks at the scope and takes the handoff on the guy at fourteen.

I go balistic "I didn't take that handoff for a fucking reason! Now see if you can get Rosewood on the line and have them take that guy to thirteen."

KB gives me a blank stare.

"He's going to hit this guy." I point to the traffic.

KB starts hollering for Rosewood. They, of course, don't answer.

I've got to do something, and I've got to do it right now. I can't climb or descend my guy cause I've got traffic at those altitudes. I'm pretty sure he's not going to want to turn because of the weather, but I don't have any other choice. I've got to "go for the green" which is a one hundred degree turn to the right for him.

"November five-three-two, fly heading zero-two-zero, traffic nine o'clock, one-five miles, deviating at one-four thousand."

If there's a thunderstorm cell in the direction I'm aiming him, he won't make the turn. Seconds tick by as the two aircraft come closer.

"Best I can do Center is a three-zero-zero heading right now."

Not great, but it'll change the point of confliction and give me another minute or two.

"November five-three-two roger, when able fly heading zero-two-zero."

"Roger."

The guy from Indy enters my airspace. The gap between the two aircraft narrows.

"November one-four-four are you able to fly a two-eight-zero heading?"

"Negative."

Shit. Plan B.

"November one-four-four can you maintain your present heading?"

"For another forty miles or so Center."

"Roger, November one-four-four, fly your present heading, advise when you need to turn."

"Present heading and we'll advise."

"Iron Air twenty twenty-one can you fly your present heading?"

"Affirmative Center."

"Iron Air twenty twenty-one fly your present heading, traffic."

"November one-four-four, descend and maintain one-three thousand."

"Descending to one-three thousand."

Now all I have to pray for is that neither he nor the Iron Air have to turn until they're safely past each other.

But that's just how it goes.

Fuckers

Today was my last day on the job. Thank God.

New policies that have been or are being instituted to fuck the controller even more:

Find something, anything to "gig" the controller for so that they don't earn their "bonus" money. (Used to be called cost of living increase).

Secondly, since a controller gets a step increase and a pay raise after certifying at three associate radar positions, they've decided to train developmentals at two associate radar positions and two radars. Once they have these, they're "useful" and will be put to work indefinitely, before training resumes and they earn that extra dough. The next time a controller gets a step increase or raise is when they get their fourth radar position, so they'll train at the rest of the associate radar positions, get the small increase, certify at another radar, then work for a period of time before entering their next phase of training.

So instead of the two-four years for a controller to become full performance, it will take up to twice that long.

Only problem is, they'll run out of FPL's before they get the next batch trained. But they don't care about what's going to happen a few years down the road, oh hell no, they're only concerned what the numbers look like on their next report.

Bastards.

Recent News - 9/11

A guy I work with is the NATCA (National Air Traffic Controllers Association) liason with the NTSB. Part of his job requires him to assist in investigations at crash sites. He was part of the investagive team that worked in Shanksville.

I don't know if he told me these things because I'm leaving the agency, or because the agency is crushing the air traffic controllers with hostile, and draconian work rules, and morale is at an all time low. Doesn't really matter I guess, but DG told me things that shake a faith I no longer knew I had in this government.

I know there are a lot of rumors and speculation out there, but these things I know beyond a shadow of a doubt.

First off, I know for a fact that a plane went down in Shanksville. I saw it happen. I received verification from another aircraft that it happened.But those aren't the only rumors flying around out there.

Some of them DG confirmed for me.

As you can imagine, men and women from several different agencies came and went as the NTSB gathered up pieces of the downed jet. These are some of the snippets of conversation he heard:

A man from a certain three letter agency watched as a burnt gob of supposed human flesh was retrieved and bagged. He muttered to himself, but DG was standing close enough to hear him. He kept repeating "It was for the good of the country."

A woman from the NTSB bagged and tagged a chunck of metal, looked at DG where he worked beside her and said "you do know that we were behind this?"

The female liason for the NSA came up to DG and flat out told him "You just go along with whatever the NTSB determines. Understand?"

DG passed two men in suits that he didn't know, and couldn't place. As he went by he heard the one man say to the other "I got the call last night. Thank God for that too, I was supposed to be on this flight."

Towards the end of the first day, everyone was tired and filthy from digging up bits of the plane. DG stripped out of his protective gear, and headed towards his car. He met up with a guy that was standing by his own vehicle. The guy turned to look at him and said "If I weren't so close to retirement I'd quit this job." DG just looked at the guy. The guy shook his head, then said "We did this. Can you believe it? We did this."

I've worked with DG for just over 9 years. He's someone I trust. So yeah, I believe.

I Don't Know

One of the things that every new trainee has to learn is to say those three words, "I don't know." You'd be surprised how hard it is for people to admit that, but in this job it's vital. And yeah, I mean peoples lives depend on our ability to say it.

Every now and then though, since it is a government operation, there comes a time when too many of us "don't know" what the hell is going on.

Let me try to explain this in a way you all will understand. You know I talk of sectors. Each sector is a clearly defined geographical and spatial area. Sort of like the different states of the country. Only we go upwards too. You have your "bottom layer" the low altitude sectors, then an upper, or middle layer, which are the high altitude sectors, and in some cases another layer on top which make up the Super high sectors. Of course, in most cases there's a lowest level that are made up of approach controls.

Any way, each sector is defined. Each sector has a name. On the midnight shift when traffic volume is at its lowest, all the sectors are combined at just two radar scopes. Then, when the day shifters roll in, all the sectors are pulled apart again at the various radar scopes. We send out messages called GI's (General Information messages) letting everyone around us know when we open and close a sector.

That said, I was up at Peck working the three o'clock O'Hare push. I'm flashing a handoff at Traverse City High, which is Minneapolis Center's High altitude sector on my north side. They're not taking the handoff.

I do a couple of things, and I see they still haven't taken the handoff. I look at my D-side, and he shrugs. I do some spacing, switch a couple of guys, then see that the aircraft is getting pretty close to Minnie's boundary and they still haven't taken the handoff.

"Traverse City High, Peck on the one."

"Traverse City."

"Handoff over Bad Axe, Air Canada one-twenty-four, flight level three-zero-zero."

"Cadillac's open."

Huh? Who the fuck is Cadillac? I didn't know. I turned to my D-side, and they didn't know. I asked the guy working next to me, and he didn't know.

"Who's Cadillac?"

"The new sector. It's been open for the last hour and a half!"

"What new sector?"

See, here's the thing, Minneapolis Center had gone through almost all the hoops to get this new sector up and running. They just missed one little step in the process. They neglected to tell ANYBODY ELSE they had a new sector.

What can I say, it's a government job.

We're only Human

Don't forget that I told you earlier what one of the supervisors told me; "You're not expected to be perfect, you're human. But you are expected to be fast enough to fix your mistakes before anyone dies."

So I was working the Toledo sector (Mainly Detroit Metro departures, Cleveland arrivals, and misc. other traffic), anyway, Detroit was unloading, and when they unload they really pump these guys out.

So I'm busy climbing guys, getting higher for them and getting them up and out of my airspace.

Meanwhile the sector to my south points a guy out to me, which is pretty much just like it sounds. He points at the aircraft and says "Point out, inbound to Adrian."

I figure with the location of that airport, I don't really have to worry about the guy so I say "Point out approved."

Time passes as I work more departures, take point-outs on the Cleveland guys, switch aircraft. Then I get a hand-off from Toledo approach on a guy outbound from Adrian. Don't think a thing of it, and climb him.

I go back to doing what I was doing. I can't tell you how long it took me to realize I'd just climbed the guy head on with the point out I'd taken inbound to Adrian. As soon as I realized what I'd done I keyed up "November two-five, expedite your climb through one-two thousand." Course, you'd never be able to tell by my voice that anythings wrong.

Course, I had no idea what kind of aircraft November two-five was cause I hadn't paid attention. I checked then, to make sure he was flying something that could actually climb well enough to get on top of the arrival.

Fortunately, he was a turboprop and didn't have a problem at all clearing his traffic, with room to spare.

One more saying that gets used a lot on the job "I'd rather be lucky than good."

And that is the God's honest truth.

Right After 9-11

Yeah, I'm kind of stuck on that day right now. I got to thinking about work right after 9-11. See, here's the thing. The month before 9-11 we hit record traffic levels. That's the number of "operations per day", the sheer number of aircraft we worked on a daily basis.

We'd gone from having breaks during the day when the traffic levels died down, to always being busy. It takes a lot of concentration when you're busy, and after about an hour you start to feel it. After a couple hours you're starting to feel a bit brain dead. Not good.

9-11 solved a lot of that for us. Sorry, but true.

The first day they weren't letting hardly anyone fly. Then slowly they started approving more flights to take to the air.

We had a whole bunch of new rules we had to follow too. Not fun, but we were used to the rules changing on us suddenly.

Anyway, about two weeks after 9-11 I was working a high altitude sector. Just to give you an idea how tense everyone is, both on the ground and in the air, one of the personal jets that was on my frequency said the following over the frequency:
"Roger Cleveland, direct to Marquette. If we make it that far."

"November three-forty-nine, say again?"

No response.

"American twenty-eight, did that sound ... strange to you?"

"It sounded strange to Execjet one-eleven."

"Yeah, it sounded strange to us too Cleveland."

"November three-forty-nine, anything you want to tell me?"

"Uh, negative Cleveland."

I reported the incident to my supervisor and we kept an eye on the aircraft until he landed in Marquette. Needless to say, nothing happened. But yeah, we were all quick to think the worst when he'd said that.

Who?

You never heard it here, but the midnight shift is very very slow around three o'clock in the morning.

So I'm working the mid one night, and the tech guys take our main computer system down to do whatever they do to it. So we're using the back-up system and one of the things it doesn't do is automatically hand-off aircraft if they get close to someone else's boundary and you haven't started him "flashing" yet.

Anyway, I'd been dragging ass for a couple of hours and I was starting to nod off. I had two aircraft, both heading for Chicago Centers airspace, about a hundred and tweny miles apart.

I hand off the first aircraft, switch him to Chicago's frequency, then fall asleep.

Next thing I know I'm jolted awake when a plane calls me. Yeah, it was the guy I hadn't handed off yet. Only I don't see him anywhere. So I give Chicago a yell and ask him if he knows where this guy is.

Sure thing. Chicago had been watching the plane fly through their airspace, into Minneapolis Center's airspace, back into Chicago Center's airspace, and now he was about to enter Minnie's airspace again.

Oops.

A1

Yeah, you've got it, the head of the free world. He flies too, though not quite like everybody else.

I was one-holing the Jackson sector, which means that I was working there by myself. The Detroit Metro departures were starting to launch and I had a Grand Rapids arrival at 14,000 feet that was deviating for weather. There was all kinds of weather over the eastern half of the sector.

Anyway, I've taken the handoffs on five Detroit departures, but I'm not talking to them yet. I am talking to the guy at 14, a Jetlink, that's picking his way through thunderstorm cells.

Detroit Approach yells for me over the "shout" line (an open line between facilities). I answer them just as Lansing Approach starts calling me. Detroit is telling me about the deviating going on with the depatures while Lansing keeps yelling.

Another controller walks up, and without even looking at what I was doing answers Lansing. Then he tells me "I released flight level two-three-zero to Airforce One," and walks away.

Next thing I know, Lansing Approach is flashing me the handoff on the pres. And his aircraft is aimed right into the flight path of all my departures and the guy I have at 14.

The first thing I do is to stop him at 13,000 feet. Then I make sure to stop any of the departures coming out at 12,000 feet. So far so good.

Airforce One calls up and asks for higher.

"Airforce One, unable higher, deviation left or right of course is approved, maintain one-three thousand."

"We're getting a bad ride here Center."

"Roger, I have traffic at your ten o'clock, two-zero miles, one-four thousand, clear of that traffic I'll have higher."

A couple of minutes go by and Airforce One is back complaining about the ride.

"We're getting moderate chop, requesting higher."

"Airforce One, traffic at twelve o'clock, one-five miles, one-four thousand, deviating. Clear of traffic I'll have higher."

Another minute goes by and I'll be damned if Airforce One doesn't ask for higher again. He's getting really demanding about it too. Hell, he's flying the president, right? I should jump to his command.

I even thought about giving him higher, but I didn't have anything against the Jetlink that was just about right over top of the pres at the moment. Besides, giving the pres a bad ride was kind of funny.

I figured giving him higher and letting him hit the Jetlink however, might be bad for my career.

9-11 Follow-up

Just a short one for today. I was talking last night to some fellow controllers about the youtube video. One of the guys there told me the following story, and I thought I would share it with you. It's not ATC, but it's interesting all the same.

Al says that the morning of September 11 his brother, Fred, was scheduled to fly on United 175.


"Fred was packed and ready to go. He made sure that everything was turned off in the house since his wife was spending some time at her sisters. He got behind the wheel of his six month old Toyota Celica, but the engine wouldn't turn over.

"Disgusted, he returned to the house and called Triple-A. He stressed the need for speed, since he had to catch a flight. Half an hour later he thought about calling for a cab. He can't say why he didn't, just that he decided to take a later flight.

"He flipped on the TV but wasn't really paying a whole lot of attention to it. Triple-A finally showed up and he went outside to deal with them. Funny thing was, he decided to try turning the key one more time. The car fired rigth up.

"He thanked the tow guy, went back inside to call his boss and let him know he'd missed the flight, when he caught sight of the smoke roiling out of the World Trade Center. He turned the volume up, and as he watched, he saw an aircraft fly into the picture, then a second explosion, this one in the other tower."


"He had, in fact, just watched the plane he was supposed to be on explode.

"Call it what you like, but whatever kept him from going to the airport that morning saved his life."

I can't stop thinking about that story. I mean, how lucky can you get?

9-11

September 11, 2001 was my first day back at work after my weekend.

It's a day I'll never be able to forget. I was working a low altitude sector when I heard a controller to my right make repeated calls to a United 93. It happens, planes are given the wrong frequency from the previous sector and it takes them a while to find what frequency they're really supposed to be on.

So I wasn't paying much attention, until I heard the word Bomb.

I had never heard anyone say that word over the frequency before. I took notice after that, and heard that United 93 was climbing and turning.

The following YouTube video are the radio transmissions from that sector to my right.

The woman's voice you hear at the very end, is mine.
United 93 had crashed in a field in Shanksville.
I got the confirmation on that.

A friend of mine provided me today with a copy of the 9-11 Commission report. I've just started reading it, but I'll get back to you after I'm done.