Incident on the Tarmac

 

 

The key was hanging from the ignition and no one else was around.  All I had to do was climb into the cockpit, start the engine and taxi down the runway.  If I did everything right, I would be up in the air long before anyone would notice me.

Getting myself into the cockpit was much harder than I thought it was going to be.  It’s one thing to jump high enough to see the keys dangling there, but quite another to pull myself up and climb in.

Once I was in the seat, I couldn’t help but to just stare at all the switches, buttons, and gauges.  What a nightmare.  Who came up with all this anyway?  I turned the key and the engine tried to turn over.  The propeller made a couple revolutions but then stopped.  Trying to start it was much louder than I had thought it would be.  There was a light on back at the hanger, but I didn’t see anyone come running out.  I doubt anybody was here at this hour.  I tried it again and it fired right up.

I looked for a gas gauge but didn’t see it right away.  I saw the horizon line going across one gauge.  I could see the oil pressure and voltage meter, so where was the gas gauge?  I finally noticed it and could see the gas level was just above half.  I instantly felt better knowing it wasn’t empty.  I had no idea where to fill the tank, had it been empty or even where a gas pump would be.  I knew enough to know you don’t just pull into a gas station.

Suddenly someone was talking to me.  I jumped a mile.  I looked back at the hanger and still there wasn’t anyone coming.  Then came a squawk from the radio, followed by that same voice.

“Mayday – mayday, this is Cessna 8525, heading in on runway 2-5.  I am out of fuel and altitude is dropping.  Is anyone there?  Need assistance.  Mayday – Mayday.”

I had no idea what to do.  If I pick up the microphone to answer, what do I say?  “I hear you, but no one is here right now.  Maybe you could call back later this morning.”

Again, came his mayday distress call, and again all I could do was listen.  The panic in his voice was very real and it made me feel sick.  I wasn’t even supposed to be here.  Why does this stuff happen to me?

I had no idea how much time before this guy came crashing down, but my sense of urgency was growing fast.  This whole landing strip didn’t look right.  Where were the runway lights?  Why were there no people around?  I don’t know why I did it, but I picked up the mic and said, “I can hear you.  I am in a small plane here on the tarmac.  If I can figure out how to turn this around at least I can light up the runway with my headlight.”  I waited but there was no response.

“Where is everyone?  Why aren’t the runway lights on?”

Again, I clicked on the mic and answered.  I don’t know.  I’m here alone.

“Who are you?”

I didn’t answer his question, I just repeated that I would try to point this plane down the runway so I could light it up with my headlight.

He obviously could tell I wasn’t a pilot and he started throwing a bunch of questions at me.

“Have you removed the blocks from in front of the wheels?  Is the plane running?  Which way are you facing now?”

What an idiot I was.  I never thought to look for the blocks keeping the plane from rolling.  I clicked the mic and said hold on, I’m going to try something.  I turned the ignition key and shut the plane off.  Then I carefully climbed out of the cockpit and dropped to the ground.  I could now see the wheels were blocked.  I pull chalks away from the wheels and then went to the tail of the plane and tried to spin it around to face the runway.  It was heavy but I could move it.  The front tires squeaked as they swiveled on the asphalt.

As I was doing this, I kept listening for my airborne friend to get back with me on the radio.  Then it hit me.  The moment I turned the key off, the radio was no longer going to work. 

He had probably been calling for me this whole time and I just couldn’t hear him.  I had to quickly get back into the cockpit and turn the radio back on, not to mention the headlight now that the plane was facing the right way.

As I tried to scramble back up, I could suddenly hear the engine of his plane overhead.  Ready or not, he was coming in.

I flung myself over the edge of the cockpit, reached in and turned the key back on.  Then I quickly pulled the knob to light the headlight.  The beam of light shot along the edge of the runway.  The distressed pilot made a quick correction and landed safely, right down the center.

That, as best as I remember, was my first assignment as a guardian angel.  The moment the pilot landed safely I was called back here.  I think things got a little too close for comfort, but I managed to pull it off.

Back on Earth, they are still talking about how odd it was that the plane’s front light just came on all be itself.  Personally though, I need to get faster at figuring things out.