Flight 232: A Story of Disaster and Survival by Laurence Gonzales
Authors: Laurence Gonzales
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be a smoking hole in Iowa.”
Several minutes into the conversation with Dvorak, SAM was still asking him to confirm that he had lost all three hydraulic systems. Haynes was getting really angry, as Dvorak responded, “That is affirmative! We have lost all three hydraulic systems! We have no quantity and no pressure on any hydraulic system!”
CHAPTER THREE
J an Brown had begun to realize that the crisis was even worse than she had imagined. Because of a United Airlines promotion, more than fifty children had come on board. Some people were holding infants in their laps. They had no seats, no restraints. Sylvia Tsao, for example, was trying to hold squirming Evan. Now rather helplessly, Brown made the decision to tell mothers to place those lap children on the floor, because that was how she had been trained. And for the first time, the idiocy of this idea struck her with its full force. She understood at last: There is no provision for protecting babies on airliners. None at all. She watched with her heart sinking as her flight attendants went up and down the aisles, telling people to take off their eyeglasses and remove items such as pens and combs from their pockets. They passed seventy-six-year-old Linda Ellen Couleur. She had a titanium shoulder . They passed Walter Williams. He had perfect teeth. He had never needed a filling in all his twenty-eight years. He wore a mustache and a tie tack with a W on it.
As the flight attendants moved down the aisle, they heard mothers ask, “What should I do with my baby?” Brown was sickeningly aware that in all likelihood, in a few minutes, some of these children were going to die.
None of the flight attendants remembered who helped Sylvia Tsao change her seat. She should not have been in an exit row with a baby, and no one was sure how she came to be there. Nevertheless Jerry Schemmel recalls that a female flight attendant led Sylvia and Evan to another seat. Schemmel had been the last person to board the flight. He and his boss and best friend Jay Ramsdell had waited all morning as flight after flight took off without them. All the planes had been full. Ramsdell had been given a seat assignment on an earlier flight, but there had been no room for Schemmel. Since Ramsdell was the commissioner of the Continental Basketball Association, it seemed more important for him to get to Columbus first. And although Schemmel urged him to go, Ramsdell said, “ Hey, we’re in this thing together , we’ll fly together.” It seemed a trivial decision at the time. Allowed at last onto Flight 232, Schemmel and Ramsdell were greeted at the gate by Susan White. “How are you fellas doing today?” she asked cheerfully. Schemmel told her that they weren’t doing all that great. She took their tickets and joined them for the walk down the Jetway, as Schemmel and Ramsdell complained to Susan about how they’d been at the airport all morning trying to find a flight to Columbus, Ohio.
“Hey!” Susan said. “I’m from Ohio!” Schemmel and Ramsdell good-naturedly grumbled a bit more, and Susan advised them, “I hope you’re not planning on getting any sleep on this flight, because we have a lot of kids on board today.” Ramsdell sat seven rows behind Schemmel in the starboard window seat, craning his neck to see his friend.
Whoever reseated Sylvia spoke to Charles Kenneth Bosscher , thirty-seven, who willingly gave up his seat in the center section for the mother and child. He took the aisle seat by the 3-Left exit. He would arrive home in Grand Rapids, Michigan, many days later in a Batesville casket that had been delivered to Sioux City from Batesville, Indiana.
Jan Brown helped Sylvia place Evan on the floor at her feet and gave her pillows to pad him. As Sylvia tried to arrange Evan on the floor, the toddler squirmed and struggled into his mother’s lap. Then he stood and grinned at Schemmel from over the back of Sylvia’s seat.
“ I never would forget that face ,”
Several minutes into the conversation with Dvorak, SAM was still asking him to confirm that he had lost all three hydraulic systems. Haynes was getting really angry, as Dvorak responded, “That is affirmative! We have lost all three hydraulic systems! We have no quantity and no pressure on any hydraulic system!”
CHAPTER THREE
J an Brown had begun to realize that the crisis was even worse than she had imagined. Because of a United Airlines promotion, more than fifty children had come on board. Some people were holding infants in their laps. They had no seats, no restraints. Sylvia Tsao, for example, was trying to hold squirming Evan. Now rather helplessly, Brown made the decision to tell mothers to place those lap children on the floor, because that was how she had been trained. And for the first time, the idiocy of this idea struck her with its full force. She understood at last: There is no provision for protecting babies on airliners. None at all. She watched with her heart sinking as her flight attendants went up and down the aisles, telling people to take off their eyeglasses and remove items such as pens and combs from their pockets. They passed seventy-six-year-old Linda Ellen Couleur. She had a titanium shoulder . They passed Walter Williams. He had perfect teeth. He had never needed a filling in all his twenty-eight years. He wore a mustache and a tie tack with a W on it.
As the flight attendants moved down the aisle, they heard mothers ask, “What should I do with my baby?” Brown was sickeningly aware that in all likelihood, in a few minutes, some of these children were going to die.
None of the flight attendants remembered who helped Sylvia Tsao change her seat. She should not have been in an exit row with a baby, and no one was sure how she came to be there. Nevertheless Jerry Schemmel recalls that a female flight attendant led Sylvia and Evan to another seat. Schemmel had been the last person to board the flight. He and his boss and best friend Jay Ramsdell had waited all morning as flight after flight took off without them. All the planes had been full. Ramsdell had been given a seat assignment on an earlier flight, but there had been no room for Schemmel. Since Ramsdell was the commissioner of the Continental Basketball Association, it seemed more important for him to get to Columbus first. And although Schemmel urged him to go, Ramsdell said, “ Hey, we’re in this thing together , we’ll fly together.” It seemed a trivial decision at the time. Allowed at last onto Flight 232, Schemmel and Ramsdell were greeted at the gate by Susan White. “How are you fellas doing today?” she asked cheerfully. Schemmel told her that they weren’t doing all that great. She took their tickets and joined them for the walk down the Jetway, as Schemmel and Ramsdell complained to Susan about how they’d been at the airport all morning trying to find a flight to Columbus, Ohio.
“Hey!” Susan said. “I’m from Ohio!” Schemmel and Ramsdell good-naturedly grumbled a bit more, and Susan advised them, “I hope you’re not planning on getting any sleep on this flight, because we have a lot of kids on board today.” Ramsdell sat seven rows behind Schemmel in the starboard window seat, craning his neck to see his friend.
Whoever reseated Sylvia spoke to Charles Kenneth Bosscher , thirty-seven, who willingly gave up his seat in the center section for the mother and child. He took the aisle seat by the 3-Left exit. He would arrive home in Grand Rapids, Michigan, many days later in a Batesville casket that had been delivered to Sioux City from Batesville, Indiana.
Jan Brown helped Sylvia place Evan on the floor at her feet and gave her pillows to pad him. As Sylvia tried to arrange Evan on the floor, the toddler squirmed and struggled into his mother’s lap. Then he stood and grinned at Schemmel from over the back of Sylvia’s seat.
“ I never would forget that face ,”
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