Author Archives: dwightj

Week 2 – I’m in a Spin – Inverted!

Category:Other Tags : devotional flying

The Flight:

An aircraft in a spin is terribly disorienting and occasionally a little scary.  The plane is out of control and falling like a rock at nearly 3 miles a minute. Picture a model airplane with a pencil stuck vertically through one of the wing tips, spinning around the pencil and headed down fast, making a complete rotation about once a second.  Somehow this day my aircraft also ended up inverted (upside down) while it was falling.  Let me tell you about it.

Teaching students how to enter and safely recover from a spin in a T-37 jet trainer is actually a rather simple procedure – as long as there is enough altitude.  For that reason, the instructor pilot makes sure he is at least 18,000 feet (over 3 miles) above the ground to teach spin recovery procedures.  To enter a spin you reduce the power and raise the nose of the aircraft about 60º.  This creates a stall condition where there is no longer have enough airspeed to create adequate lift to keep flying.  When the control stick is all the way back and the aircraft begins to stall the pilot extends his leg to put in full rudder (the control surface on the tail that moves the nose left or right) and when the nose of the aircraft drops the aircraft also begins to spin.

A normal spin recovery is initiated by fully depressing the opposite rudder control to stop the spinning.  Then the pilot puts the control stick full forward to put the aircraft into a dive.  The airspeed increases and breaks the stall condition so that you can then recover from the dive.  At least that is the way it is supposed to work.

This particular day I was flying with a student who was a former NCAA heavyweight wrestler.  He was so big the aircraft always seemed to lean to the left when I flew with Larry.  After practicing other aerobatic maneuvers I asked him to set up for a spin entry and recovery.  Everything initially went very well.  We entered the spin at about 20,000 feet.  When the aircraft stalled Larry put in full left rudder and the nose fell below the horizon and began to rotate.  It takes a while to get used to the fact that half of what you can see through the canopy is the earth quickly coming up at you in a wildly spinning manner. Part of the value of spin training is the confidence it creates for the student to handle the aircraft without fear in any situation.  However, my fear factor was about to go up!

With the spin established I told Larry to initiate the recovery.  He slammed in the right rudder to break the rotation and one full rotation later put the control stick full forward.  The nose dropped into a dive.  As the airspeed approached 250 mph I told him to pull out of the dive.  No response.  When we were almost headed straight down I told him that I was taking control of the aircraft, again no response.  He was frozen with fear and had a powerful death grip on the control stick.   With both hands, I could not wrestle it from him.

The airplane passed through a vertical dive and became inverted.  Because he was also locked in on full right rudder we reentered a stall and began to spin the opposite direction, now completely upside down.  There was no way to eject from the aircraft in this position.  I was quickly running out of options.  I could not overpower him and in such a panicked state he no longer heard me.  What would you do?

I reached over, grabbed his oxygen hose and gripped it as tightly as I could with my left hand.  With no more oxygen reaching him, his instinctive response was to grab at his mask with both hands.  I reverse the controls and the aircraft went into a steep dive as it regained enough airspeed to begin flying again.  We were well below the 10,000-foot ejection altitude suggested for a jet aircraft that was out of control, but at least I could bring us back to level flight.  I decided that we had done enough spinning for the day and told the student to head back to base and practice some landings – safe ones.

For a pilot operating at higher altitudes, oxygen is his lifeline.  Without it there is a slow and subtle loss of ability to think and perform well.  We check our oxygen supply and equipment before we take off and regularly while in flight.  This day, my ability to momentarily cut off my student’s oxygen became a lifesaver. Are you ready to do a little oxygen check yourself?

The Debriefing:

Oxygen.  While reading this story you probably didn’t even stop to think about your need for oxygen.  The natural process of inhaling and exhaling automatically provided all that you required. Our souls need “spiritual oxygen” just as much as our lungs need the air we breathe.

What is spiritual oxygen for the Christian?  What provides life for our souls?

Have you ever been at a place where you felt something was keeping you from getting what your soul needed to survive in a healthy way?

In the same way that I cut off my student’s oxygen to save our lives, what can the enemy of our souls do to cut off our spiritual oxygen and weaken our walk with God?

Dad, was there a time that you were low on spiritual oxygen?  What did you do to get control of the situation and recover from your spin?

Take a minute to read these verses and pray about any steps that you can both take to keep flying higher.

Lessons For Flying Higher:

Psalm 1:2,3 “His delight is in the Law of the Lord and in His Law he meditates day and night.  He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither and in whatever he does, he prospers.”

Luke 18:1 “Now He was telling them a parable to show that at all times they ought to pray and not to lose heart.”

Heb. 3:13 “Therefore encourage one another day after day while it is still called today lest any one of you be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.”

Week 1 – I’m Iced Over!

Category:Other Tags : devotional flying

The Flight

When my T-37 Air Force jet trainer took off on a crisp January morning I had no idea how my skills as a pilot would be challenged when I returned to the base an hour later.

I was flying a routine training mission with Lt. Tahulerah Shakerifar, a student pilot from Iran.  We had practiced a variety of maneuvers 50 miles north of the base over a deck of broken clouds.  Our fuel gauge indicated that it was time to head south, the mission almost complete. I knew that there was a more intense layer of clouds obscuring the home field and that we would require a radar approach to make our landing.  Such an instrument landing is called a GCA – Ground Controlled Approach.  Using a GCA we could make a safe landing when the clouds were as low as 100 feet and the visibility was down to ½ mile.

When flying a GCA, the radar controllers on the ground assume responsibility for guiding the aircraft through the zero visibility conditions down to where your airplane breaks out of the clouds.  At that point, the pilot hopefully sees the runway and can make the landing.  We were already receiving instructions from the radar controller as we descended through 10,000 feet.  As part of the descent checklist, I activated the canopy defroster.  When descending in high moisture and low-temperature situations there is always the potential of the canopy icing over.  Normally the canopy defroster draws very hot air off of the engine and rapidly clears any icing condition.  As a thick layer of ice formed on our canopy, our vision was totally obscured and it was obvious that the defroster on our T-37 aircraft was not working.  We were flying blind.

We did not have enough fuel to go to another base so our only option was to declare an emergency and request special assistance. At this time “Far,” my Iranian student, was beginning to grasp the seriousness of our situation and was no longer talking to himself in English, but in Farsi, his native tongue.  Under normal conditions, the pilot receives corrections on heading, altitude and rate of descent all the way down to 100 feet above the ground.  At that point, it is his responsibility to take over visually and land the aircraft. The young controller on the ground was pretty flustered when I asked him to give me heading and descent information all the way until the wheels of my plane touched the runway since we were iced over.

I soon decided that our situation required a more experienced controller and requested a change.  The voice of a seasoned master sergeant came on the radio and began to give us heading and altitude instructions, just like he handled this kind of emergency every day before breakfast.  This veteran had taken over none too soon, because Far was still speaking Farsi and every 5^thword was, “Allah, Allah!”  I slowed to 150 knots and lowered the landing gear.

Now we were on final approach, still in the dense clouds at 2000 feet.  The ground controller worked to line us up with the runway that we could not see. “Falcon 46, turn right heading 345^o, begin your descent.  On course, on glide slope (the proper angle of descent to intersect the runway). Turn right heading 348^o, left of course on glide slope.  Correcting back to course, on glide slope.  On course, turn left heading 346^o, above glide slope, adjust rate of descent. On-course on glide slope.”  A glance at my altimeter revealed that we had another 500 feet to go.  The ice covered all but the extreme sides of the canopy.  I was going to have to make this landing looking out the side.

“Falcon 46, on course, on glide slope.  On course, on glide slope.  Decision height.”  At this point still 100 feet in the air I would normally take over and make the landing visually.  I could see with my peripheral vision that we were now below the clouds, but there was no way to see the runway so the commands kept coming just as I had requested.

“Maintain heading 346^oon glide slope.” Now the runway became visible out the side of the canopy and the first runway marker went rushing by.  I eased back on the power and began to raise the nose for a safe landing.  The wheels touched and I began to firmly brake the aircraft to a stop.  When we finally stopped rolling, the base fire trucks that had been standing by in case things had not gone well pulled alongside. They were an unneeded comfort because the directions that we got put us right in the center of the runway.

“Thank you, Sergeant Johnson, for a job well done. We couldn’t have done it without your radar instructions.”

 “You are welcome, Falcon 46.  All in a day’s work.”

The Debriefing:

We were flying blind and Sergeant Johnson, with his radar and his experience, was the only one who could see where we were and where we needed to go. He had the skill and the understanding to instruct us perfectly on how to get our aircraft safely on the runway.

What did you like about this story?

What could have happened to Far and me without Sergeant Johnson’s directions?

What if I had chosen not to listen to him or take his instructions?

Dad, was there a time in your life, as a boy or more recently, when you felt like you didn’t know where to go or how to get there?  Talk about that for a minute.

Son, is there anything in your life right now that you wish you had answers to or directions for? What can Dad be praying for you?

Lessons For Flying Higher:

Psalm 32:8  The Lord says, “I will guide you along the best pathway for your life.  I will advise you and watch over you.”

Psalm 119:105  “Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light for my path.”

Sometimes the best directions in life come from Someone that you can’t see.  You can still talk to Him and listen to what He says in His word.