Yesterday afternoon, Pamela, texted me to ask if I knew anything about the news headline. Apparently an Atlas 767 had crashed into a bay area near Houston. I was on the treadmill in the gym and I got that sick feeling that I’ve come to associate with fear and loss. I began trying to check in with all of my friends who fly for the cargo “Giant.”

Over the next hour I received texts back from those around the world that I had messaged. Friends in Australia, French Polynesia, Florida, California and elsewhere. People that I don’t talk to daily or even weekly but that have crossed paths with me in my life and made an impression on me. People I count among those humans in the world that matter to me more that the whole.

These are people that I have studied with, instructed with, and operated with. People that understand the highs and lows of this life we have chosen. People I have shared my time, food, and hopes with. People I have shared stories of my family while listening to their stories of their family and home. Aviation is a very interconnected group of people. We don’t see each other for months, sometimes years and then pick right back up at some random hotel along our ways. As the day progressed I was saddened to learn that the captain on this lost Atlas flight was indeed a friend that I had flown with several times at a previous post. A good man, a father, a recent grandfather, and a great aviator.

It’s been heavy on my mind and it’s difficult to express the frustration seeing an accident like this. When you’ve seen the inside of the industry and know the programs, procedures and emphasis we place on operating this equipment. I listened to the ATC recordings. I looked at the flight track from Miami. My mind is fixed on what might have transpired the last moments in that flight deck. I am certain that these professionals were working to solve the problem until the end.

I imagine many of my friends are sharing similar feelings today.  We’ve lost some of ours. My heart is with the friends and families and many other lives that these aviators touched during their stay here.

5Y 3591, Blue skies my friends.