My reverie was interrupted when Brian advised that ATC had approved our request for Flight Level 180, the lowest we could fly without encountering uncontrolled traffic. The sun was low on this, the longest day of the year, and I wanted to use this last opportunity to share some of my favorite sights with our passengers.
We passed Shiprock (near Four Corners, the only place where four states come together at a common point). We then made S-turns over Monument Valley where giant monoliths cast shadows as long as our contrails. Finally we arrived over the Grand Canyon, the grandest sight of all. The floor of the canyon was already dark, but the west-facing walls were ablaze with shades of red, orange, and yellow as they basked in the last remnants of a spectacular sunset. It was my sunset, too, the last time that I would be allowed to fly a Canyon Tour in command of a TWA airplane.
We returned to FL350 for the short remainder of our journey to Los Angeles, which provided more time for reflection.
People always ask about emergencies. I have been fortunate and never had so much as an engine failure, although I did shut down a few engines for precautionary reasons (each time in VFR conditions and near a suitable airport). Messrs. Pratt, Whitney, Rolls, and Royce have been kind to me. I also have had a variety of mechanical difficulties, but none were threatening.
Most of my problems have been the same as those experienced by others who ply the airways for a living: weather. I have had my share of confrontations with blizzards, thunderstorms, wind shear, icy runways, and the like. My most effective weapon in combating such powerful adversaries was the encouragement provided by TWA for its pilots to exercise command authority and divert to an alternate when this appeared to be the wisest course of action. Every pilot-in-command—whether flying a Boeing or a Beech—has the same weapon of discretion in his arsenal, but some fail to use it.
I have been blessed with a remarkably fine career and have enough wonderful memories to fill a book. Many of these are from when I was in TWA’s International Division and flew around the world once a month: 10 days of adventure and excitement followed by 20 days at home. Such highlights included flying an on-pylon around the Sphinx while on base leg to Cairo, being cleared (via HF radio) for an approach to Bombay while more than a 1,000 miles away (because the tower would be closed upon our arrival), and making approaches to Hong Kong’s Kai Tak Airport. This required aiming for an illuminated checkerboard on a hill and getting as close to it as one dared before turning sharply onto short final. Nor will I ever forget my first Cat IIIb landing at Paris where the ceiling was zero and the visibility was less than the length of our fuselage. The best memories, however, involve the people of TWA, and I will miss them the most.
Airline life also has sour notes. For 34 years, my family never knew for which holidays I would be home and for which I would not; making plans more than a month ahead of time was always a gamble. When on reserve, I never knew whether that phone waking me in the middle of the night was a wrong number or Operations calling to tell me that TWA needed my presence more than my children did at a birthday party or graduation ceremony.
Nor will I ever forget the three days enveloping Christmas of 1971 during which I spent the holidays staring at the walls of a cold motel near O’Hare in Chicago. A winter storm had disrupted my schedule and intermittently knocked out electrical service. My Christmas meals were lonely and served by Denny’s, the only open restaurant within walking distance.
My final flight was highlighted by the comments of well-wishing controllers, faceless friends who helped to keep me out of harm’s way for more than 34 years. Eavesdropping pilots also added notes of levity and poignancy to the occasion.
The author’s son, Paul Schiff, worked for Jeppesen-Sanderson and arranged to have this custom approach chart prepared as a memento of his father’s retirement.
While approaching Los Angeles, I reminded myself that this flight probably would be judged by its landing. Such is the way passengers grade pilots.
Unfortunately, every pilot makes an occasional landing that registers on the Richter Scale, and I am no exception. I learned long ago, however, that one must maintain a sense of humor about such things. After a bad landing, I would apologize to my passengers for the abrupt arrival and add “that this was one of my better landings.” If that didn’t relieve anxiety in the cabin, than perhaps the comment of one flight attendant did: “Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Schiff has requested that you keep your seat belts fastened until the airplane—or what’s left of it—comes to a stop at the gate.”
There was an outbreak of applause following touchdown, not so much because of my landing. Our passengers probably were releasing nervous energy after realizing that they had survived a flight commanded by a 60-year-old captain.
While taxiing toward the gate, I found myself riding the brakes and moving progressively more slowly, as if wanting to prolong my career even if by only a minute. Brian looked in my direction; he knew what I was doing; he knew what I was thinking.
I could not help thinking about how it was of no consequence that I had never scratched a TWA airplane or passenger; it did not matter how much experience I had accrued during 26,000 hours in the air. I was being set aside only because I was about to celebrate a birthday that had been arbitrarily chosen by the FAA to be an airline pilot’s last. Someday, I hope, there will be a more equitable way to determine when an airline pilot’s career should end. The FAA’s age-60 rule is one of the few remaining bastions of legalized age discrimination.
Earlier that day, when departing Los Angeles for St. Louis, ground control had cleared us to Runway 25R, which is a considerable distance from our gate. Brian noted my dismay at having to taxi so far and tried to obtain a clearance for nearby Runway 24L, our usual departure runway. No luck; we were to taxi for miles to the distant runway or not taxi at all.
While grumbling and responding to the Taxi Checklist, I did not notice the fire trucks pulling alongside our wingtips. But I did notice the torrents of water arcing above and from each side of the airplane, a form of salute sometimes accorded retiring airline captains. I then understood why we had been told that “flow control” necessitated such circuitous taxi routing. I was grateful and honored. But I could only wonder what my passengers had thought as fire trucks began to spray the airplane. I quickly explained over the P.A. what had happened before anyone might think that our airplane was on fire.
That had been almost 12 hours earlier.
After coming to a stop at the gate, I set the parking brake, shut down the engines, and responded to the Secure-Cockpit Checklist for the last time.
A gate agent entered the cockpit with a wheelchair that had been requested for me by one of my “friends.” It was tempting.
Where, I wondered, had those 34 years gone?
About the Author
Barry Schiff was born on June 23, 1938 and began flying in 1952 at the age of 14. Since then he has developed a number of simultaneous aviation careers during which he has made numerous lasting and significant contributions to aviation safety.
As an aviation writer, Captain Schiff is known well by aviation readers for his more than 1,400 articles published in 98 aviation magazines, notably AOPA Pilot, for which he is a contributing editor and has been writing for 45 years. Many of his articles discuss personally developed concepts, procedures, and techniques that have received international acclaim. (Many of his articles have been translated into other languages and published by various foreign air forces, airlines, and governing aviation authorities.) He also has written 12 aviation books of which his award-winning, 3-volume series, The Proficient Pilot, is an ongoing bestseller (published by Aviation Supplies and Academics).
He was a technical advisor, writer, and on-camera performer for ABC’s Wide World of Flying, for which he received international accolades. From this, he evolved into an aviation safety consultant for the print and electronic media as well as the mo
tion picture industry.
Schiff began his career as an aviation writer at the age of 21 (1959) when he founded Aero Progress, Inc. This is when he conceived, developed, wrote, and published a series of unique and innovative aviation education products that were marketed commercially and received international acclaim. His product line was purchased by the Times-Mirror Corporation in 1963 on behalf of its subsidiary, Jeppesen Sanderson.
For his significant and lifetime contributions to aviation safety, Captain Schiff has received numerous awards and honors. These include an honorary doctorate by Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University, induction into the National Flight Instructors Hall of Fame, and induction into the Aviation Hall of Fame of New Jersey. He also was chosen as the General Aviation Journalist of the Year (2003) by the Aéro-Club de France, selected by the National Aeronautic Association as an Elder Statesman of Aviation, was presented with AOPA’s prestigious Lawrence F. Sharples Perpetual Award (1990). He also received the Alfred and Constance Wolfe Aviation Fund Award (1992) as well as a U.S. Congressional Commendation, to name only a few.
An aviation activist, Captain Schiff sought and received direct and personal approval from Jordan’s King Hussein and Israeli Prime Minister Itzhak Rabin in 1995 to organize a “fly-in” from Jerusalem to Amman, Jordan. He led a formation of 35 general aviation airplanes carrying 135 Americans, Israelis, and Jordanians on what was called “Operation Peace Flight.” Schiff’s historic flight was heralded by the international press as a “significant contribution to the Middle East peace process.” Schiff became the first pilot ever allowed to conduct any kind of flight—civil, airline, or military—between those previously warring nations. He also became the only pilot in the world to earn pilot certificates by the governments of both Israel and Jordan.
Several years ago, Schiff innovated and developed a charting concept that provided guidance for VFR pilots through complex, high-density airspace. These unique and creative charts were published by Jeppesen Sanderson, and a legislative bill, H.R. 3243 was written by then-Oklahoma representative, now Senator, James M. Inhofe, that mandated the adoption of Schiff’s concept by the Federal Aviation Administration.
Schiff has been active in numerous other general aviation causes. He was very influential, for example, in preventing the closure of Santa Monica Municipal Airport (a major reliever airport in the Los Angeles Basin). He also worked with the FAA to provide airspace access to general aviation aircraft subsequent to FAA’s emergency closure of the Los Angeles Terminal Control Area (Class B airspace) Corridor.
In addition, Schiff has conducted numerous flight-safety seminars all over the world and has served as chair and participant on numerous FAA-advisory committees.
As a pilot, Captain Schiff has accumulated more than 27,000 hours of logged flight time and is one of few who has flown more than 300 different types of aircraft (including the Lockheed U-2 and the Spirit of St. Louis replica). He obtained a waiver to become an Airline Transport Pilot at the age of 21 and has every category and class rating issued by the FAA (except for airship). He also has every flight instructor rating (with gold seal) and a fistful of type ratings ranging from the Ford Trimotor and the Douglas DC-3 to the Lockheed L-1011 and the Boeing 747. Captain Schiff retired from TWA in 1998 (because of FAA’s age-60 rule) after an unblemished 34-year career during which he flew in both domestic and international operations. He also was a check captain on the Boeing 757 and 767.
As a general aviation pilot he held several world aviation records including a 500-km, closed-circuit course speed record captured from the Soviet Union (Class C1-d, January 21, 1975), a 100-km, closed-circuit course speed record captured from France (Class C1-b, March 29, 1969), and a time-to-climb record to 6,000 meters (Class C1-d, August 2, 1978). He also holds a few airline records and was awarded the Louis Blériot Medal by the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale in 1969.
Schiff has a Ground Instructor Certificate, a lifetime teaching credential (in aerospace science) issued by the California State Department of Education, was an FAA-Designated Pilot Examiner from 1977 to 1990, and was the first of only a few to be awarded a lifetime designation as an Aviation Safety Counselor by the FAA.
Schiff has substantial experience in experimental flight testing and is the only American to be awarded the Gold Proficiency Award by the Federal Aero Club of Switzerland.
These wide-ranging aeronautical activities have been conducted concurrently. He continues to investigate and report to the aviation community various aspects of proficiency and safety, and remains a vigorous and outspoken advocate for general aviation both at home and abroad.
Schiff is a member of the Society of Experimental Test Pilots, the American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics, the International Society of Air Safety Investigators, and is a Fellow of the Royal Aeronautic Society (FRAeS).
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