The LaGuardia airplane-fire truck crash

Friends have been asking how the LaGuardia airplane-fire truck crash could have happened.

Before reviewing any audio, my first guess was “Might be a controller error. Clear plane to land and someone else clears fire truck across runway.” That shouldn’t happen in general. Even if there are multiple Tower frequencies, there is typically one controller who is solely responsible for a given runway. Based on news reports thus far, it looks like my first guess was partially correct, but it was the same person who cleared a plane to land and a fire truck to cross. Here’s the airport diagram:

The crash apparently occurred at the intersection of Runway 4 and taxiway Delta (D), marked with a red oval below. The plane was moving in the direction of the red arrow.

Note that a jet doesn’t try to land right at the beginning of the runway, but rather 1000′ down the runway (out of 7002′ total here). Because of inertia due to weight and the slow-ish spool-up time of a big jet engine, it’s tough to adjust approach angle/position near the ground in the event the wind changes. If the airplane is going to come up a little short, therefore, the 1000′ marker target enables the short landing to still happen on the runway surface. The airplane would have been rolling/braking for perhaps only 1500-2000′ before the crash.

ABC has a timeline:

Based on an air traffic control recording, the truck had requested permission and had been cleared by the air traffic controller to cross Runway 4 at taxiway Delta. Shortly after, the air traffic controller tells the vehicle to stop several times right before the collision.

“Stop, Truck 1. Stop,” the transmission says. The controller can then be heard frantically diverting an incoming aircraft from landing.

Michael McCormick is the former vice president of the FAA and was once in charge of all of the airspace in the Tri-State.

He wants to know how many people were in the control tower, because initially it sounds like one person could have been doing the work of two people.

“What we’ve heard from that control tape, is it’s the same voice that is clearing the aircraft to land and clearing the vehicles across the runway and a normal tower scenario it would be ground control working the surface traffic and tower control just working arrivals and departures,” McCormick said.

Michael McCormick sounds much more qualified than I, but I think that he is incorrect regarding what’s conventional for Tower vs. Ground responsibility. In my experience, any vehicle or aircraft that wants to cross an active runway usually deals with Tower, i.e., the same person on the same frequency. This is substantially safer than two people issuing instructions on two frequencies because it gives pilots the chance to hear that a vehicle has been cleared across the runway that they were expecting to use and also concentrates control into one brain rather than requiring coordination among multiple brains.

It’s super sad to reflect on the deaths and injuries caused by what seems to be human error, especially since there was no need for the humans in the fire truck to be on their own. An AI in the fire truck could have been monitoring both Tower and Ground frequencies and also looking around at vehicles and aircraft on the field. The AI could easily have said “Don’t move! There’s a plane landing!” to the truck driver who’d been cleared across.

Has anything like this happened to me, you might ask? Yes. I won’t rat out the airport and controller, but I was holding short of a runway at a towered general aviation airport with a fair amount of flight school traffic. Tower cleared me for takeoff. I looked left and noticed a piston-powered airplane on short final and decided not to move into the runway. At a normal taxi speed, I think that the landing aircraft might have gone past by the time I was in the middle of the runway, but it was surely a controller mistake (at the point that I was cleared for takeoff nobody could have had any idea how long it would take for the landing airplane to clear the runway).

(For what it’s worth, our AI overlord (ChatGPT) says “Runway = Tower’s jurisdiction … No one—aircraft or vehicle—may enter or cross a runway without: … Explicit clearance from Tower” and that only rarely might a Ground controller relay a Tower controller’s clearance to cross a runway.)

Don’t take this post as a criticism of LaGuardia ATC. In my experience, New York controllers in all positions are some of the best in the U.S. I’ve talked to LaGuardia Tower while flying a helicopter around the East River and while flying a CRJ into and out of LGA. One really can’t get better humans and, therefore, improved safety will come only from improved systems, such as AI assistance in ground vehicles and, maybe, an AI assistant in the Tower.

One big question: why didn’t the fire truck personnel notice the CRJ’s insanely bright landing lights or get warned by the runway status lights that are supposed to prevent runway incursions even when a human makes a mistake? Pilots are trained to look both ways when entering a taxiway or runway so presumably the airport fire truck drivers are too. According to the FAA, there should have been a “stop” indication to the fire truck that the runway was in use (another easy thing for an AI to warn out: “STOP! Look at the red lights!”):

It will certainly be worth investigating whether this failsafe system was operating correctly at the time of the accident and also what kind of training fire truck drivers receive. For pilots in a two-pilot crew, the captain (left seat) is supposed to look and say “clear left” while the first officer (right seat) is supposed to look and say “clear right” before making a turn.

Related:

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An F/A-18 pilot comments on the F-15s shot down by Kuwaitis

A friend last seen in Top Gun slows down to 25 mph (across Florida by EV) and Overheard at Oshkosh (“I’ve met 120 of the 30 people who flew in the first Top Gun movie.”), regarding the three F-15s shot down by a Kuwaiti crew in an F/A-18. (Not in quote style for readability)

[in response to how could it have happened] A large percentage of our jet losses in that region have been friendly fire. In fact I think nearly all except during the gulf war.

Tons of reasons it happens from the shooter side. From the aircraft side often the defensive systems may be off, and you are focused on getting in to land/deconflict in the terminal area. You don’t assume your own team is going to light you up.

In the recent destroyer shooting down a U.S. jet. Another jet was targeted and was in mostly disbelief assuming the missile was going after something else. So even if your RWR went off you might just assume it is aimed at something else you don’t see. Since the ships are certainly interrogating air targets with their radars and might shoot SMs, hopefully with a clear lane, while there are friendly planes up still.

[in response to a discussion of why some of the F-15 pilots were injured] Momentum mostly

First the seat fires and in a two seat model the other person will say eject 3 times then pull. You hope in that brief moment you get into the proper ejection position (lower legs back, thighs on seat, back against seat, shoulders square, head neutral and back). If not, anything out of place is going to have a large amount of acceleration very quickly which causes injuries (eg broken femur from the seat accelerating first then hitting your leg that wasn’t on the seat).

Then all of those out of place
Items, arms included have major flail damage risk. If it’s a controlled ejection because of a mechanical issue you can minimize the speed and angle for ejection. In this case not so much most likely. So your arm that may have been hanging off to the side now has the momentum issue and maybe hit something on the way out, and then may be exposed to 300 knots or more wind suddenly.

People commonly get knocked out but wake up in the chute. The rest of the other injuries are mostly from the ejection, the flail injuries, or a bad parachute landing fall.

[in response to a question about how it was possible for the Kuwaits to misidentify three F-15s at fairly close range] Could happen but yea something seems off here.

May have felt panic that 3x mig-29 or whatever he thought it was, was also breathing down their neck. I assume this was also after missiles landed or maybe nearly landed so tensions were already high.

I think this falls in the category of don’t attribute to malice what can be contributed to incompetence. My guess is basic human error/training/skill.

But I also don’t know the details. I assume by now people know most of what needs to be known. Either way that pilot is riding the bench for a while.

Would be interesting to understand if they were declared hostile and if so by who[m!]. The hostile declaration and what the positive ID requirements were would be interesting to know. I assume details will come out.


Loosely related….

Very loosely related (aviation and war)…

The above related to CNN’s coverage of some anti-Islamophobia activists in Manhattan:

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The Army helicopter crash in DC revisited

As noted in Reagan National Airport Black Hawk-CRJ crash, the easiest way to have prevented the January 2025 crash would have been to implemented congestion pricing on the highways around DC so that officials didn’t need helicopter taxi service to avoid the traffic jams that have been caused by dramatic population growth induced by spectacular growth in government spending (plus open borders?).

“The Last Flight of PAT 25 Two Army helicopter pilots went on an ill-conceived training mission. Within two hours, 67 people were dead.” (New York Magazine):

Black Hawks are typically flown by two pilots. The pilot in command, or PIC, sits in the right-hand seat. Tonight, that role was filled by 39-year-old chief warrant officer Andrew Eaves. Warrant officers rank between enlisted personnel and commissioned officers; it’s the warrant officers who carry out the lion’s share of a unit’s operational flying. When not flying VIPs, Eaves served as a flight instructor and a check pilot, providing periodic evaluation of the skills of other pilots. A native of Mississippi, he had 968 hours of flight experience and was considered a solid pilot by others in the unit.

In terms of flying hours, Mr. Eaves was at the same stage as a civilian helicopter pilot beginning a second year working as an instruction in little Robinsons, mostly going in circles around a training airport.

His mission was to give a check ride to Captain Rebecca Lobach, the pilot sitting in the left-hand seat. Lobach was a staff officer, meaning that her main role in the battalion was managerial. Nevertheless, she was expected to maintain her pilot qualifications and, to do so, had to undergo a number of annual proficiency checks. Tonight’s three-hour flight was intended to get Lobach her annual sign-off for basic flying skills and for the use of night-vision goggles, or NVGs. To accommodate that, the flight was taking off an hour and 20 minutes after sunset. …

Night-vision goggles have a narrow field of view, just 40 degrees compared to the 200-degree range of normal vision, which makes it harder for pilots to maintain full situational awareness. They have to pay attention to obstacles and other aircraft outside the window, and they also have to keep track of what the gauges on the panel in front them are saying: how fast they’re going, for instance, and how high. There’s a lot to process, and time is of the essence when you’re zooming along at 120 mph while lower than the tops of nearby buildings. To help with situational awareness, Eaves and Lobach were accompanied by a crew chief, Staff Sergeant Ryan O’Hara, sitting in a seat just behind the cockpit, where he would be able to help keep an eye out for trouble.

Lobach, 28, had been a pilot for four years. She’d been an ROTC cadet at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, which she graduated from in 2019. Both her parents were doctors; she’d dreamed of a medical career but eventually realized that she couldn’t pursue one in the Army. According to her roommate, “She did not have a huge, massive passion” for aviation but chose it because it was the closest she could get to practicing medicine, under the circumstances. “She badly wanted to be a Black Hawk pilot because she wanted to be a medevac unit,” he told NTSB investigators. After she completed flight training at Fort Rucker, she was stationed at Fort Belvoir, where she joined the 12th Aviation Battalion and was put in charge of the oil-and-lubricants unit.

In addition to her official duties, Lobach served as a volunteer social liaison at the White House, where she regularly represented the Army at Medal of Honor ceremonies and state dinners. … She was planning to leave the service in 2027 and had already applied for medical school at Mount Sinai. Helicopter flying was not something she intended to pursue.

Though talented as a manager, she wasn’t much of a pilot. … One instructor described her skills as “well below average,” noting that she had “lots of difficulties in the aircraft.” Three years before, she’d failed the night-vision evaluation she was taking tonight. … It’s not uncommon for pilots to struggle during the early phase of their career. But Lobach’s development had been particularly slow. In her five years in the service, she had accumulated just 454 hours of flight time, and she wasn’t clocking more very quickly.

Captain Lobach had the same number of hours as a Big Tech engineer who flies recreationally for about three years and, based on the above, far less interest in becoming proficient. The small number of hours seems to be common within the Army:

Similar problems exist throughout Army aviation; the service has been having a hard time retaining its most experienced pilots and providing adequate flight time for those currently coming up through the ranks. Since 2011, the average number of hours flown per year by crewed Army aircraft has fallen from 302 to 198.

Here’s a confusing part. Maybe the issue was with the tail rotor rather than “a tail fin”?

As they passed over the Civil War battlefield of Thoroughfare Gap, an alarm called a master caution went off, indicating that a control system for a tail fin was malfunctioning. If the situation worsened and the surface became stuck, the helicopter could crash.

(This was unrelated to the crash as it happened an hour earlier and the system was “reset”.)

The conclusion of the article is bizarre. After writing about a person who wasn’t interested in aviation, the author concludes with a quote from the pilot-brother of one of the regional airline pilots who was killed by the Army crew’s incompetence:

He thinks that Lobach could have become a good pilot if they gave her another thousand hours of flying time. Instead, the Army withheld from her the training and flight time that she needed to fly safely and then required her to go fly anyway on a mission that was as ill-conceived as it was poorly executed.

The article is heartbreaking because there are thousands of superb civilian helicopter pilots who would have sacrificed almost anything to take Captain Lobach’s place behind the controls of a Blackhawk even without receiving her Army pay and benefits ($150,000/year if we include housing allowance and the actuarial value of the pension?). It’s understandable that the military is a bureaucracy, but after all of the selection hurdles how does it end up with pilots who don’t love to fly and live to fly?

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Challenger jet crash in Bangor, Maine

Friends have been asking me about the tragic Challenger N10KJ crash in Bangor, Maine on January 25 at 7:44 pm (NBC). I’m not type-rated for the Challenger 650, but I was trained on the Canadair Regional Jet, which is essentially a stretched version of the business jet.

The closest weather that I could find to the accident is the following:

METAR KBGR 260053Z 04009KT 3/4SM R15/6000VP6000FT -SN VV011 M17/M19 A3035 RMK AO2 PRESFR SLP286 P0002 T11671194

This is at 00:53Z on January 26th, but we subtract five hours for Eastern time so that puts us at 7:53 pm in Bangor.

The weather wasn’t terrible. Wind was from 040 true at 9 knots, which is roughly 56 degrees magnetic. Runway 33 has a magnetic heading of exactly 330 (airnav). So it was almost a perfect crosswind, which is unfavorable, but only 9 knots, which is easily handled even by a general aviation pilot in a slow piston airplane (where 9 knots is a larger fraction of the airspeed).

There was 3/4 miles of visibility or more than a mile down the runway (6000′). It was cold (minus 17C or 1F), which typically means that any snow will be dry and there wasn’t a lot of snow (“-SN” means “light snow”). There was roughly 1100′ of ceiling above the runway. To come back and land on the same runway 33 would require only 200′ of ceiling and 2400′ of visibility (the opposite direction runway required only 1800′; presumably due to superior lighting). (As a general rule, you don’t want to take off unless conditions will permit a return to the airport in the event of a problem, e.g., warning light (jet), or door pops open (old Cirrus). One can still do it with a “takeoff alternate”, i.e., a different reasonably nearby airport with either better weather or a better approach procedure, but that’s perhaps best left to the airlines.)

Part of the ILS 33 approach plate:

Decision altitude is at 363′ and the runway touchdown zone elevation is 163′ above sea level (that’s on a difference part of the chart; the “#363/24” at the bottom is what’s relevant (the # means “only when the lighting system is functional”)).

Jets work only if the aircraft is clean. The Challenger 650 is supposed to rotate at about 140 knots in icing conditions, but this plane was still on the ground at 152 knots:

At a distance of 1760 m past the threshold of runway 33, the aircraft veered right at a ground speed of 152 knots. The airplane flipped over and was partially consumed by a post crash fire.

What could have kept it from flying? Ice or snow on the wings that disrupts the smooth airflow necessary for generating design lift. How can one prevent the accumulation of dry snow? If starting from a cold hangar, the easiest way to be a hero is to do nothing. Dry snow won’t stick to a below-freezing surface so you taxi to the runway threshold, have your terrified junior co-pilot look out the side window to verify that the snow is blowing off during the takeoff roll, and abort the takeoff if the chicken in the right seat says “we don’t have a clean wing!” I actually did this once in a Piper Malibu out of KBED in Maskachusetts with my favorite gynecologist at the controls. We climbed through 20,000′ of clouds and dry snow and broke out on top of the clouds without ever having accumulated a speck of ice on the plane, just as my gynecologist had said we would. We landed about five hours later in Florida. A friend with a lot of round-the-world experience says that this is the preferred technique in Russia. ChatGPT says that you’d be an idiot to attempt it, but Grok says it is okay:

In extremely cold, dry snow conditions like those in the METAR (-17°C with light snow), the snow is typically non-adhering and powdery, meaning it won’t stick to a clean, cold-soaked aircraft surface. Many operators and pilots (including some Part 121 carriers) rely on this property, determining that light dry snow will blow off during the takeoff roll without needing de/anti-icing fluids. This is permissible under the clean aircraft concept (e.g., 14 CFR § 91.527, § 121.629, § 135.227), which prohibits takeoff only if frost, ice, or snow is adhering to critical surfaces—loose, blowing snow that doesn’t adhere does not violate it.

What if the snow isn’t dry, the airplane wing is warm from being in a heated hangar, the airplane wing is warm from above-freezing fuel being pumped in (truck recently filled from underground tanks), or the airplane wing has picked up ice in a descent from a previous leg? (the last two conditions might have applied to this plane because it had just come in from Houston and was making a refueling stop) In that case, the standard approach is to use Type I de-icing fluid to melt/wash the snow and ice off the plane and, if the snow is still falling, apply Type IV de-icing fluid to protect against any additional accumulation of precipitation. (What about Types II and III you may ask? The first rule of De-ice Club is not to ask about Types II and III.)

As the plane rolls down the runway, Type IV fluid magically shears off and leaves behind a perfect wing. This may happen at roughly 120-130 knots so it won’t work for a crummy piston airplane, but the airlines rely on it.

In order to facilitate fluid recycling, de-icing typically happens on a pad that isn’t right at the runway hold short line. How do the pilots know if the plane is still safe to use if they’ve spent some time taxiing from the de-icing location to the runway or, even worse, waiting for other aircraft to depart and land? They’ll have a holdover time table in the cockpit. Here’s an FAA example:

Notice that the holdover time for light snow is as little as 9 minutes in -17C temperatures and only 2 minutes if the snow is “moderate” rather than “light” (who can distinguish between these?). ChatGPT, no matter how hard it is pressed, always says “Type IV still makes sense despite its limitations [and] … is still immeasurably safer than guessing what will or won’t blow off”, but is able to explain how Type IV fluid can kill everyone:

The conclusion from our strict AI overlord:

But the problem with “Type IV within HOT” being “acceptable” is that the holdover time ranges are large and the pilots might get inaccurate information about whether there is “light” vs. “moderate” precipitation (or just guess wrong). Not only that, but the pilots sitting inside the plane can’t know, especially at night, how thorough the de-ice personnel are being with the Type I and Type IV fluids.

How many minutes elapsed between the Type IV fluid application and the takeoff?

The crew communicated with ground ops by radio requesting Type 1 & Type 4 de-ice & anti-ice fluid application. At 19:13 the aircraft taxied to the de-icing pad, where it remained from 19:17 to 19:36. It taxied to runway 33 and commenced the takeoff at 19:44.

The deicing seems to have taken about 20 minutes so we can perhaps guess that Type IV application was begun at 19:26 or 18 minutes prior to takeoff. That’s within the holdover time range from the above chart, 9-30 minutes, but longer than the “you might be in trouble shortest number” of 9 minutes. Bangor has an epic runway (11,440′) so things might have gone better during daylight hours. The pilot monitoring would have had a chance to see that the wing wasn’t clean at 130 knots, for example, and told the pilot flying to abort. They would have had plenty of runway available within which to stop. Perhaps the VIP passengers/owners, headed for France, insisted on lingering in Houston rather than getting out ahead of the storm. If they’d left Houston three hours earlier it wouldn’t have been snowing at all in Bangor:

METAR KBGR 252153Z 06005KT 10SM OVC050 M15/M26 A3045 RMK AO2 SLP319 PRESENT WX VCSH T11501256

I like to tell my advanced students “If you’re rich enough to own a jet then you’re rich enough to set your own schedule so that you’re never flying in airline-style weather.” (That said, one great way to become “unrich” is to own a jet…)

It’s too early to say whether icing/de-icing was the cause of the accident, of course. But as of right now it is tough to think of another way that a competent two-pilot crew could have wrecked the airplane. One sad thought is that the plane might have been flyable if the crew had rotated at a higher speed. If the investigation shows that the pilots rotated (pulled the jet off the runway) at the book speed and then, once out of ground effect, the plane wouldn’t fly, it will be sobering to reflect that the plane might have flown just fine if they’d waited for another 15 knots (the most critical surfaces on the plane, such as the leading edges of the wing, are de-iced with hot “bleed air” pulled from the engines’ compressors). With sufficient airspeed, even an inefficient wing will generate quite a bit of lift, which varies as a function of the airspeed squared.

From a friend who operates quite a few jets:

Everything I know about Challengers is that they are terrible in ice. It’s a supercritical wing and any trace contamination will be a huge problem. Unfortunately not all aircraft designs deal well with icing. Some aircraft are better than others and the Challenger 600 is probably the worst I can think of.

Unrelated to the physics and aerodynamics, but there seems to be a sad irony that the plane involved in this spectacular accident was owned by a personal injury law firm, i.e., folks who make their money from spectacular accidents. Arnold & Itkin:

Finally, the crash does show the merits of using big airports. The fire and rescue team reportedly reached the crash site within a minute or so. If you experience an in-flight issue and think that there is any chance of having an accident on landing, therefore, divert to the biggest air carrier airport that you can find and certainly reject any unattended nontowered airport.

Update: audio from various frequencies collected and subtitled. N10KJ crew didn’t hear the conversation between the two airline crews regarding the failure of the Type IV fluid and Allegiant’s decision to return to try de-icing again (about 10 minutes in). ATC moved their conversation to Tower and 10KJ was likely still on Ground. Get-there-itis is powerful, but perhaps hearing that Allegiant’s Type IV fluid had been overwhelmed by blowing snow would have resulted in a decision to abort or at least scrutinize the wings very carefully on the takeoff roll.

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Self-driving cars will make piston-powered aviation even more ridiculous?

It’s International Civil Aviation Day (an odd day to choose when you consider what else aviation accomplished on December 7…). Let’s look at whether self-driving cars will make piston-powered aviation even less defensible as a transportation tool.

Last month I embarked on a day trip to Orlando for Free Play Florida. It’s a 2:15 drive from our house, nearly all of which is on roads that GM Super Cruise or Ford BlueCruise could handle as well as, of course, any of Elon Musk’s creations.

Much to my surprise, I was able to do this 150-mile trip via Cirrus SR20 in only a little more time than it would have taken, door-to-door, by car. The Cirrus was more fun, I guess, and saved me from the monotony of staying in a lane on Florida’s Turnpike for two hours (the autopilot handled nearly all of the enroute flying). Let’s look at the cost. Driving:

  • 300 miles round-trip at IRS rate of 70 cents/mile = $210 (and that’s the marginal cost for someone who already owns a car; day trips aren’t for the working class anymore, thanks to the miracle of coronapanic shutdowns that made cars cost more than $50,000 and the open borders that keep their wages low)

Flying:

  • I drove 50 miles round trip to the airport so that’s $35 at IRS rates
  • Two hours of Hobbs time in the old Cirrus round-trip at flight school rates (which include fuel) is about $1,000.
  • Three $20 tips, one at each FBO encounter: $60 (not required, but I enjoy saying the no-longer-ironic “This will pay for half of your next Starbucks” and, also, I like to reward people who go to work every day in what has become a work-optional society)
  • Rental car in Kissimmee (KISM) plus gas = $130. (Would presumably have been cheaper at MCO, but the general aviation fees there are higher.)

Piston GA is thus slower and about 6X the cost ($1,225 total). It was more fun because I interacted with some nice people at both Stuart and Kissimmee (other pilots, line guys, front deskers, the Go Rentals gal). Tesla FSD users say that they find the fatigue level from monitoring the self-driving system is only about one third of what is when actually driving. So the trip could have been done via FSD at the same fatigue level as a 50-mile-each-way excursion. Also, most Americans love to consume alcohol. More or less everyone at the Columbia restaurant in Celebration (Disney’s New Urbanism community) was drinking sangria and I could have indulged in a glass if I hadn’t needed to fly back later that evening (Grok says that I could have three drinks before getting close to the legal limit, but I’m a lightweight so my practical limit is one drink).

(Maybe alcohol will ultimately be banned in Celebration, though? In a 15-minute walk around the lake I observed at least three burqa-clad Muslims and I don’t know why they’d want their kids to see women in halter tops drinking margaritas at outdoor tables. There are plenty of dry towns in Maskachusetts. It would be tougher to implement this in Florida according to Gemini because FL Section 562.45(2)(c) prevents a locality from stepping on the state’s regulatory toes.)

Separately, I want to give a small shout-out to Signature (formerly “The Evil Empire”) for mostly keeping piston GA alive by waiving nearly all fees with the purchase of a minimal amount of 100LL at nearly all of its locations (not KTEB!). It’s an unwelcome economic event, I’m sure, when a piston aircraft shows up but Signature does a good job of hiding its disappointment.

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Taxpayers must fund, but cannot enjoy, the Blue Angels

Today was when hundreds of thousands of taxpayers had expected to enjoy an air show.

“NAS Pensacola cancels annual Blue Angels air show because of government funding uncertainty” (Stars and Stripes):

Naval Air Station Pensacola canceled this year’s Blue Angels Homecoming Air Show due to uncertainty regarding government funding. Officials said the ongoing government shutdown, limited funding and the time needed to arrange for performers and necessary support contracts are key reasons for canceling the annual two-day event, according to a Facebook post by NAS Pensacola. The show was originally set for Nov. 14- 15 in Pensacola, Fla., and expected to draw hundreds of thousands of visitors.

Pensacola might be the best place to learn about the relationship between peasants and rulers in the U.S. See Two-year anniversary of National Naval Aviation Museum’s temporary coronapanic closure (2022) and “US government shutdown closes NAS Pensacola to the public, including aviation museum” (October 1, 2025) and “National Naval Aviation Museum to reopen to public” (AOPA, May 4, 2023):

Access to Naval Air Station Pensacola, home of the museum as well as the Pensacola Lighthouse and Maritime Museum, and Fort Barrancas, had been restricted to Department of Defense cardholders since December 6, 2019, when a terrorist opened fire at the military base, killing three and wounding eight.

Wokipedia:

On the morning of December 6, 2019, a terrorist attack occurred at Naval Air Station Pensacola in Pensacola, Florida. The assailant killed three men and injured eight others. The shooter was killed by Escambia County sheriff deputies after they arrived at the scene. He was identified as Mohammed Saeed Alshamrani, an Air Force aviation student from Saudi Arabia. … On January 13, 2020, the Department of Justice said they had officially classified the incident as an act of terrorism, motivated by “jihadist ideology.”

On February 2, 2020, al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula claimed responsibility for the shooting. In an audio recording, emir of the Yemen-based group Qasim al-Raymi said they directed Alshamrani to carry out the attack. On May 18, 2020, the FBI corroborated the claims.

In response to the domestic jihad, the government excluded taxpayers from the museum for about 3.5 years and then opened the border for any other jihadi who might want to settle permanently in the U.S., e.g., “Nasir Ahmad Tawhedi, an Afghan national who entered the US on September 9, 2021, via humanitarian parole (later applying for a Special Immigrant Visa). In October 2024, he was arrested in Oklahoma City for plotting an ISIS-inspired Election Day mass shooting attack targeting large gatherings. Tawhedi purchased AK-47 rifles and ammunition from undercover FBI agents, communicated with an ISIS facilitator, and planned to die as a martyr. He pleaded guilty in June 2025 to conspiring to provide material support to ISIS and attempting to acquire firearms for a terrorism offense” (Grok).

One of my photos of the Blue Angels from the Reno Air Races 2016 (the races themselves were shut down by “the Reno-Tahoe Airport Authority citing regional growth and safety concerns” (source)):

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Why won’t airlines give interest-free loans to air traffic controllers who are working without pay with pay

Due to the government shut down, air traffic controllers who are 100 percent guaranteed by law to be paid for 100 percent of hours worked are calling in sick so that they don’t have to “work without pay with (delayed) pay”. Now the FAA is cutting back on total volume so as to maintain safety with a reduced number of controllers who show up (CNBC):

Note the misleading statement about “gone unpaid since the shutdown began”. That would be like saying that a worker who has paid monthly has “gone unpaid since the start of the month”.

Cutting flights will cost the airlines a fortune due to the need to reschedule crews, passengers, aircraft, etc. Maybe a 6:00 am flight is only half full, but if it is cut the crew and plane won’t be where they need to be to operate a 9:00 am flight.

What if the airlines got together and offered interest-free loans to every controller, secured by the massive payday that all government workers, those who showed up and those who didn’t (the lucky “nonessential” ones and also the fake-sick ones), will receive as soon as Congress settles its differences? It could be done through the federal government, even. The airlines give the money to the Feds. The Feds issue paychecks as usual. The Feds then reimburse the airlines when the government reopens. Alternatively, the airlines could make the loans privately and directly to ATC employees.

Related:

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A visit to the United Flight 93 crash site

As part of the return trip from EAA AirVenture (“Oshkosh”) this year, we stopped at the Flight 93 National Memorial. It’s a 30-minute drive from the idiot-proof ridgetop airport that serves Johnstown, Pennsylvania (see Climate Change Reading List: Johnstown Flood).

The architecture is moving and designed around a walkway that follows the flight path of the airliner that jihadis had hoped to turn into a weapon against the U.S. Capitol. The path picks up after you go to a lower section of the memorial where the Boeing 757 actually crashed.

The building itself contains a lot of information about 9/11, not just the Flight 93 history. Visitors can listen to three phone messages to family members left by passengers on Flight 93.

Here are some of the outdoor signs:

A Harley is parked just outside the main building and includes Todd Beamer‘s final recorded words: “Let’s Roll”.

The walkway to the Wall of Names:

There’s a 93-foot-tall Tower of Voices of wind-driven chimes that look like aircraft parts (audio recording).

It’s a fitting memorial to a group of people who gave their lives in order to spare the lives of Americans on the ground.

Here’s the Hollywood version with the “Let’s Roll” line about 4 minutes in:

RIP especially to the crew: Lorraine Bay, Jason Dahl, Sandra Bradshaw, Wanda Green, LeRoy Homer Jr., CeeCee Lyles, and Deborah Welsh. Airline crews enable us to live richer lives by assuming a higher level of risk every day than those of us who earn our wages by flying desks.

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The revolution in oil-powered general aviation is at least three years away

Happy National Aviation Day to those who celebrate.

One thing that you’d expect the Experimental Aircraft Association, with revenue of more than $60 million per year, to do is fund the development of new powerplants. There has never been any significant progress in aviation without first an improvement in engines. A low-power high-efficiency turbine engine, for example, would enable the creation of all kinds of dramatically superior aircraft. But none of the kit companies or even the certified four-seat aircraft companies can readily afford to invest what is required.

Enter Turbotech, a startup in the Islamic Republic of France. They say that they have a 140 hp turboprop engine that burns fuel at approximately the same rate as a 140 hp Rotax (piston) engine:

How long before this can be dropped into a certified airframe? The founders said that if everything goes perfect and nothing at all has to be changed in their current design, the engine could be EASA/FAA-certified in three years.

An analysis with some numbers (I disagree with the price discussion):

I don’t think it is Turbotech, but the Canadians claim to have a “turboshaft engine” in their Janus-I Flying Suitcase:

The ultimate license plate for light aircraft enthusiasts (a car parked at Oshkosh and, presumably, that will seen at Sun ‘n Fun in Lakeland, Florida in April:

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Wright Brothers, 2SLGBTQQIA+, and Islam in Dayton, Ohio

We visited Dayton, Ohio on the way to Oshkosh this year, primarily to see the USAF Museum (see previous posts) but also to visit some of the Wright Brothers historical sites.

The place where the Wright Brothers did some of their earliest work in aeronautical engineering is preserved to some extent by the National Park Service, their final bicycle shop building having been purchased by Henry Ford and moved to Greenfield Village in the Islamic Republic of Dearborn, Michigan (represented in Congress by Rashida Tlaib). The sidewalk celebrates the Wright Brothers as well as the equally important Phyllis G. Bolds:

The museum celebrates the two Wright Brothers on equal footing with their friend Paul Dunbar (or maybe Paul Dunbar is 2X as important as either Orville or Wilbur individually since it is the “Wright-Dunbar Center” rather than the “Wright-Dunbar-Wright Center”?).

The Feds remind us not to forget Alice Dunbar Nelson, Paul Dunbar’s widow:

Here’s the neighborhood; note the $200,000+ G-Wagon in a city not famous for economic vibrance.

You can live in a brand-new (except for the shell?) 2BR, 3Ba condo in the neighborhood for about the same cost as the G-Wagon that was driving by.

Dayton is enriched by migrants according to an official city web page:

The city notes that “Between 2014 and 2019, the total population in the City of Dayton decreased by 0.2% while the immigrant population increased by +25.9% during the same time period.” In other words, the native-born population is shrinking while the migrant population is growing and, of course, it would be inaccurate to refer to this as a “replacement”.

After spending some time in a few of these Rust Belt cities I’ve come to the conclusion that the politicians who run them are passionate about immigrants because most of the native-born Americans who habitually work and pay taxes have moved to other parts of the country. The politicians hope that immigrants won’t be quick to figure out that the U.S. is a work-optional society and that these folks will pay taxes to replace the tax base lost to North Carolina, Tennessee, and Alabama. If the immigrants choose to refrain from work, on the other hand, the Rust Belt city can still thrive via the federal cash infusion of Medicaid, Section 8, and other programs (it would be inaccurate to refer to these as “welfare”, of course).

Dayton seems to have been significant enriched by Islamic migrants. We found Halal restaurants both in the city and suburbs. Google Maps shows a variety of mosques (masjids). The International Grocery Halal Market was near our hotel:

As part of Dayton’s commitment to welcoming these observant Muslim immigrants, much of the city was covered in sacred Rainbow Flags (July 13, shortly after Pride Month and Omnisexual Visibility Day and just before Non-Binary Awareness Week). Here is a sampling:

A restaurant flying the Biden-style trans-enhanced Rainbow Flag (note also the Black Lives Matter banner in front of the Black-free restaurant in a city where 38 percent of the residents told the Census Bureau that they identify as Black):

The field where the Wright Brothers did a lot of flight tests in 1904 and 1905 is preserved on the grounds on Wright-Patterson Air Force Base (no need to drive through the base gates to see the sights, though). The locals funded a monument at the crediting the Wright Brothers with the invention of ailerons, which was the basis of their patent infringement lawsuits:

Here’s what our Google AI Overlord has to say on the subject:

Ailerons, used for controlling an aircraft’s roll, were first conceived by Matthew Piers Watt Boulton in 1868, who patented a system of lateral control using movable wing surfaces. While Boulton’s design laid the groundwork, the Wright brothers are credited with pioneering the use of wing warping for roll control in their 1903 flights. However, the modern aileron, as a separate, hinged control surface, is generally attributed to Robert Esnault-Pelterie, who used them successfully in 1904. Legal battles over the invention and its patent rights ensued, but ailerons eventually became standard on aircraft, particularly after their widespread adoption during World War I.

The actual field is dotted with explanatory signs:

Although the city’s leaders value migrants, the prairie is preserved as special because it is “native”:

On our way out of town we found a world-class Mooney paint scheme:

Too bad that nearly all of today’s GA pilots are too fat to fit comfortable in this speedster!

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