CRASHING IN TAOS

My husband, Jack, had more confidence than ability when we accepted an invitation in the mid-'70s to fly to Taos, NM, for the weekend. The female of the couple we were traveling with had a condo in Taos. This particular weekend was the annual meeting of their HOA. She was a newly licensed attorney who went to law school after being a teacher for some years and had worked as a law clerk in my husband's law firm before receiving her license. Her boyfriend was an executive for Philip Morris. I felt somewhat intimidated by this powerful couple. After all, I was still in my 20s and just getting started in my career and marriage.

Jack had been flying for about a year and only had a rating for pilots flying visually in single-engine airplanes when we took off from Addison Airport that morning. He represented a management company that provided service and rentals for small aircraft owners. Planes from that company could be rented by others. Still, insurance companies required a check-out ride with a pilot employed by the company. Jack was cleared to fly the airplane after being passed by the pilot doing the assessment.

We were waiting for them at the airport when they arrived in a refined style that fateful morning. Even after 40 years, I remember watching and shuddering as this couple approached the airplane. They were a beautifully well-dressed couple. She had told me to dress very casually for the weekend. I brought shorts, tee shirts, and hiking shoes. She dressed like a model.

As we made our way across the big, open Texas skies toward New Mexico, we refueled in Dalhart. It was estimated that we would be landing in Taos before dark. This was important, as we would be flying between mountains.

It was only a short time before we encountered a headwind that would use a lot of fuel, but we continued toward the Taos airport. The Taos Airport has one runway over 7,000 feet above sea level. Tall mountains surround the airport. Nighttime was upon us as we flew closer to the airport. Jack could not locate the panel lights, so I held a flashlight to illuminate the panel. Our lovely couple in the backseat had become silent as Jack attempted to contact the tower. To his surprise, the tower was closed. He reached the Albuquerque tower for landing instructions. We were running out of fuel.

There was a mighty crosswind as he attempted to land, which made it impossible to land. He made two more attempts at landing before it became evident that he had to land the airplane one way or the other with the fuel situation. I knew there was a real possibility that we wouldn't survive this landing. I told Jack that I loved him. I regretted that I wouldn't get to live my life past this point, but my love for Jack comforted me in what I thought were my last moments. The couple in the back were praying. Jack was concentrating on landing the plane.

As we came in for the landing, the plane shook fiercely from side to side. One tire touched the runway, only to bounce wildly to the side, which made one wing hit the ground with incredible velocity and break off. We continued jumping all over the runway at high speed. I could see the end of the runway approaching quickly. We finally came to a stop after the plane plunged off the end of the runway, burying the propeller into the earth. 

Jack's hands were frozen on the yoke. He was unable to speak. There was a strong fuel odor, even though we must have been almost empty. The woman started frantically looking for her purse in the darkened airplane. They talked about finding a lighter in her bag to see better. Even though I was this unsophisticated young woman from a little town in the Panhandle, I knew that fire and fuel didn't mix. An inner strength unbeknownst to me before that time took over. I thought the plane might catch fire, so I kicked it into high gear by peeling Jack's fingers from the yoke and screaming at the couple to put away the lighter, for God's sake. It wasn't easy to open the door since the plane was upended, but I somehow managed it. After I jumped out and hit the ground, I helped the couple. Jack appeared to be in shock, but I eventually coaxed him out of the plane. We were bruised and breathing. We were alive.

The plane was completely destroyed.

We managed to hitch a ride back to Dallas in an RV with another couple we met at the HOA meeting that weekend. The couple we came with rented a car and drove to the Albuquerque airport to catch a commercial flight to Dallas. We didn't see them again after that weekend.

The insurance company sued him for crashing and destroying the airplane. Jack and his lawyer felt that the pilot representing the insurance company had deemed him competent and the accident was due to weather conditions. Their position was that Jack needed to be more qualified to fly the plane. The case was litigated for several years and was eventually heard by the Texas State Supreme Court. Jack lost the case. He paid his lawyer thousands of dollars and paid the insurance company an even more significant sum for the cost of the plane. I told him that would be his first and last airplane.

He continued to fly and accumulate ratings. I never lost the fear of flying in a small airplane, but when I took the yoke, it helped alleviate the anxiety. 

A few years later, we were taking off from a small dirt runway in Oklahoma after a family reunion when it looked like we wouldn't be clearing the trees at the runway's end. Our three-year-old daughter was in the backseat. He started to panic while turning switches and searching the panel for clues as to why the plane wasn't gaining altitude when I noticed that the wheels were still down. When I told him to turn on the switch to retract the wheels, he did it just in time to clear the trees. In his defense, most of the aircraft we flew had fixed gear. 

We divorced about 10 years later. One good thing about the divorce was that I wouldn't fly with him in small planes. Shortly after our divorce, he took our daughter on 'his weekend' with his best friend and his friend's son to the Gulf Coast for the day. On their way back to Dallas, they lost oil and had to land in a farmer's field. I would never permit him to fly with our daughter after that incident. 

He never flew again.