Thank you Rich, and thank you to NATCA and the FAA air traffic controller and Region X families for having me here—I’m honored.
We’ve come a long way in the three years since the last Communicating for Safety, and we’ve come a long way together as an agency. Our former Administrator, Steve Dickson, in the midst of the darkest days of COVID, had said we might one day look back on that time as our “finest hour.”
In the spring of 2020, ATC played a major role in repatriation flights and the rapid movement of life-saving vaccines around the globe. We had to keep aviation moving, because we knew aviation would be an essential part of the economic recovery of the world.
And to keep aviation moving, we needed your help to come up with new ways to minimize COVID risks….and we did. You stayed on the job to keep the aviation system operational and safe, and that helped America and the world weather the pandemic.
I think Steve Dickson was right…
And I can’t mention our finest hour without mentioning the heroic job that our controllers did 21 years ago, to secure our skies in the aftermath to 9/11, and get the air transportation system moving again when it was safe to do so.
That’s what we do as FAA employees. No matter our differences, we always work together to solve the big problems ... Whether it’s keeping the aviation system operating and coworkers safe during a national tragedy, or shepherding 10,000 airplanes safely into an otherwise sleepy airport in Wisconsin every July.
We work together to get the job done. No matter what the hour is, we make it our finest.
This is at the core of our operational excellence. Though our airspace is the most complex in the world, our collaborative efforts ensure the highest safety standards anywhere.
Speaking of Oshkosh, I can’t tell you how proud I was of our controllers during my visit this year. In fact, when I was having breakfast there with Sean Elliott, EAA’s vice president of advocacy and safety, his colleagues sent him the air traffic wrap-up from the day before.
Thanks in large part to FAA controllers, the airport had logged 3,378 takeoffs and landings—that’s about 1,200 more operations than any of our busiest U.S. commercial service airports handled that day…
AirVenture is extremely busy, but it’s also extremely professional, and that one-week event is a perfect of example of what we can accomplish when the FAA, our labor partners and the aviation community work together.
And I thank the air traffic controllers for making us all look so good.
You do more than make us look good—you also save lives.
Later this week, Rich and others will be presenting this year’s Archie League Medal of Safety Awards and Region X Commitment to Safety awards to some very deserving ATO employees.
I want to highlight two of the saves, because as someone who spent a career in the flight deck, I can identify with what those pilots were going through, and I personally know how much it meant that ATC was on their side.
November 17, 2021, was a day like any other day in Kansas City Center, until a radio call came in from a Mitsubishi MU-2 twin-engine turboprop en route to Colorado, at Flight Level 240.
Controller Brian Magnuson was working his usual sector in ZKC’s Prairie Area. The pilot was requesting a lower altitude because he was having a pressurization issue.
Few problems make the hair stand up on a pilot’s arms more than the thought of losing pressurization—and oxygen—in the flight levels. At 24,000 feet, your time of useful consciousness with no supplemental oxygen is less than five minutes.
Knowing the seriousness of the issue, Brian took decisive action—he cleared November Two Romeo Alpha down to 18,000 feet, initially, and he declared an emergency for the pilot.
When it comes to oxygen issues, reaching safety means getting the aircraft down to about 10,000 feet, and Brian coordinated with Vance Air Force Base to make it so.
Except… the pilot levelled off at 18,000 feet, and it was clear from their radio conversation that hypoxia was kicking in.
Brian repeatedly transmitted the word “Oxygen!” to the pilot as other controllers rallied behind him to help the pilot and make sure any adjoining airspace was clear.
Brian reissued the instruction to descend to 10,000 feet while repeating his plea: “Oxygen! Oxygen! Oxygen!”
Controllers were cautiously optimistic when Two Romeo Alpha began descending, but shortly thereafter they feared for the worst as the aircraft fell into a steep left spiral, typical behavior for an aircraft where the pilot is unconscious and the autopilot is disengaged.
To try and snap the pilot out of his haze, Brian issued a heading command—270 degrees—to help stabilize the aircraft’s descent. It worked—the pilot soon after began to regain control and correct his heading.
But controllers had to get him to descend….Brian continued to calmly instruct the pilot to descend and use oxygen. Another pilot on frequency tried to help too, pleading, “Descend man, descend!”
After what seemed an eternity, Two Romeo Alpha did begin descending, and as the aircraft passed through 16,000 feet, it was clear the pilot was coming around.
He fully recovered and continued on to his destination at a lower altitude.
The pilot called ZKC soon after landing, telling them that Brian’s calm, professional manner and continued insistence to descend kept him from passing out….and very likely saved his life.
Brian, thank you for your service. This was indeed a fine hour for you and your colleagues.
Here’s another scenario that gives pilots nightmares—you’re on an IFR flight, your destination and alternates are socked in, and your fuel is getting low….
That’s exactly what played out when Kerri Fingerson was working a low sector at Fort Worth Center on the afternoon of April 23, 2021.
A Cessna 172 had just executed a missed approach at the Clinton Regional Airport in Oklahoma. The pilot immediately requested a second LPV approach to the same runway, and Kerri made it happen.
She also gave him the latest weather at Clinton—overcast ceiling at 400 feet and 1.5 miles visibility. The approach in theory gets pilots down to 250 feet with less than a mile of visibility, but margins are slim and it’s easy for pilots to get disoriented. Kerri checked on nearby airports, and all reported being socked in.
When November 7108 Quebec executed a second missed approach….and made a sharp left turn instead of flying the charted missed approach procedure…Kerri’s “Spidey” sense kicked into action.
She knew the pilot might need a helping hand, even though he hadn’t asked for it yet.
Kerri immediately informed the pilot that minimum IFR altitude was 4,000 feet and instructed him to climb and fly the published missed approach. No response.
She gave the instructions again, and he finally responded. He reported his fuel state—about 50 minutes left. This ratcheted up the pressure to find an airport with better conditions—pronto.
The pilot however wanted to make one more try at Clinton, a request that Kerri knew was probably a bad idea because if he went missed again, there would not be enough fuel to reach an airport she identified as having better weather.
That alternate was 90 miles away….Thankfully, her logic prevailed and the pilot headed toward the alternate, Wichita Falls.
Controllers can sense when other controllers need help, and that’s what led ZFW controller Megan Baird to sit down and plug in next to Kerri.
They worked together to find closer airports that might have acceptable weather. They found one that was 15 miles closer, and that became the Cessna 172’s new destination.
Meanwhile the two controllers worked the phones to allow the Cessna to traverse some restricted airspace that was along the shortest flight path to the airport.
They also kept an eye on one other option, Lawton Airport, which was even closer to the Cessna. The pilot of a regional jet shortly thereafter reported what was relatively good weather at Lawton—and they had another new destination.
In the end, the Cessna landed safely at Lawton…with 14 minutes of fuel remaining in the tanks.
I think we can all agree that Kerri and Megan made for one fine hour that day. Thank you!
I mention these two stories, but they are not unique. Big victories AND little victories play out every day in our complex aerospace system.
No matter the challenge or the odds, we—as FAA employees—work together to solve the problems and keep the air traffic system safe and efficient. That’s what we do.
And that’s why we need your help with the big challenges to come….Just think about what’s happening in aerospace….
…Air traffic is hitting levels not seen since before the pandemic, and they’ll only continue to grow.
We have a drone industry that’s growing exponentially; air taxis arriving in just a few short years; automation technologies that could radically change how we fly commercial and general aviation aircraft, and a commercial space industry that’s growing by leaps and bounds.
And it’s a pretty good bet there’s something new on the horizon that we haven’t even contemplated yet...
A big part of the FAA’s job is to effectively manage the return to full operational tempo while integrating all of this innovation into our air traffic control system.
And we have to do all of this with a laser focus on safety, efficiency, and the environment.
Air traffic controllers have a unique view of how our aviation system operates, and how to improve it, safely. Your viewpoint is vital to our future, especially now.
Let’s keep working together… to find solutions.
I’m confident that years from now, we’ll look back with pride on the finest aerospace system in the world—one that we built, together.
Thank you for inviting me.
