job and that Thursday night was delighted
to be sitting with a captain who was jovial, friendly and outgoing. She had
accumulated 772 hours flying time on the Bombardier Dash 8. It was late evening;
the time 22:07 local.
The Buffalo Approach
controller cleared them to descend. Captain Renslow took the radio calls, while
Shaw pushed the PA button and made her public address to the passengers and
flight attendants.
“Folks, from the flight deck
your first officer speaking, uh, it looks like at this time we're about ten
maybe fifteen minutes outside of Buffalo. Weather in Buffalo is, uh, pretty
foggy. Snowing a little bit there it's not too terribly cold, uh, but, uh, at
this time I'd like to make sure everybody remains in their seats so the flight
attendants can prepare the cabin for arrival. Thank you.”
Shaw had slept little in the
last thirty-six hours, having commuted to work from the West Coast to the East
Coast, spending the night in the busy crew lounge where “one of the seats had
her name on it”.
Listening to her PA announcement
were forty-five passengers. They were under the care of two flight
attendants busy preparing the cabin for landing. Flight attendant Matilda
Quintero, a widow and breast cancer survivor, lived in Woodbridge New Jersey
with her ninety year-old mother and one of her two grown daughters.
Quintero usually worked short
flights to avoid long stays away from home and had swapped off a flight to
Europe so that she could be home that weekend. However, her preferred duty on
the Las Vegas sector which included an overnight was changed to the Buffalo
flight at the last minute.
The second flight attendant,
Donna Prisco, was a mother of four who'd started flying as a flight attendant a
year earlier and loved her new job. The two were an exceptional team and made a
distinct impression on all those who worked with or flew with them as
passengers.
They were taking care of,
among others, Alison Des Forges, a human rights activist and world-renowned
expert on Rwanda. She was on her way home from a public debate with a member of
the British Parliament.
Also on her way to Buffalo was
Beverly Eckert whose husband was killed in the 9/11 attacks. She had met with
President Obama the previous week and he called her “an inspiration.” Among
them was off-duty Captain Joseph Zuffoletto, travelling as a passenger.
It was now 10:09 p.m. and the
pilots were well into the approach. Captain Renslow bantered with Shaw. “How
are the ears?”
“Uh they're stuffy.”
“Are they poppin?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. That's a good thing.”
“Yeah. I wanta make ‘em pop.”
The two of them laughed. Shaw
had been feeling under the weather and had considered calling in sick for the
flight. “Is that ice on our windshields?” she asked.
“Got it on my side. You don't
have yours?”
“Oh yeah, oh, it's lots of
ice,” she replied.
The Bombardier Q400 has
sophisticated anti-icing devices on the leading edge of its wings as well as
parts of its tail and horizontal stabilizer. [53]
The propeller blades
themselves are fitted with an electrical de-icing system. The crew had
activated the anti-ice system eleven minutes after takeoff.
Automatic weather information
issued by the airport at Buffalo was reporting a blustery night in a visibility
of 3 miles in light snow and mist, with the temperature a chilly 1 degree. Not
threatening but less than ideal conditions demanding a higher workload of the
crew.
The aircraft leveled off at
four thousand feet and Shaw once again broached a subject they had explored
throughout the flight—how some of her co-pilot colleagues had complained about
a slow company progression to captain.
“No, but all these guys are
complaining. They're saying, you know, how we were supposed to upgrade by now
and they're complaining. I'm thinking you what? I really wouldn't mind going
through a winter in the northeast before I have to upgrade to captain.”
“No, no.” Captain
to be sitting with a captain who was jovial, friendly and outgoing. She had
accumulated 772 hours flying time on the Bombardier Dash 8. It was late evening;
the time 22:07 local.
The Buffalo Approach
controller cleared them to descend. Captain Renslow took the radio calls, while
Shaw pushed the PA button and made her public address to the passengers and
flight attendants.
“Folks, from the flight deck
your first officer speaking, uh, it looks like at this time we're about ten
maybe fifteen minutes outside of Buffalo. Weather in Buffalo is, uh, pretty
foggy. Snowing a little bit there it's not too terribly cold, uh, but, uh, at
this time I'd like to make sure everybody remains in their seats so the flight
attendants can prepare the cabin for arrival. Thank you.”
Shaw had slept little in the
last thirty-six hours, having commuted to work from the West Coast to the East
Coast, spending the night in the busy crew lounge where “one of the seats had
her name on it”.
Listening to her PA announcement
were forty-five passengers. They were under the care of two flight
attendants busy preparing the cabin for landing. Flight attendant Matilda
Quintero, a widow and breast cancer survivor, lived in Woodbridge New Jersey
with her ninety year-old mother and one of her two grown daughters.
Quintero usually worked short
flights to avoid long stays away from home and had swapped off a flight to
Europe so that she could be home that weekend. However, her preferred duty on
the Las Vegas sector which included an overnight was changed to the Buffalo
flight at the last minute.
The second flight attendant,
Donna Prisco, was a mother of four who'd started flying as a flight attendant a
year earlier and loved her new job. The two were an exceptional team and made a
distinct impression on all those who worked with or flew with them as
passengers.
They were taking care of,
among others, Alison Des Forges, a human rights activist and world-renowned
expert on Rwanda. She was on her way home from a public debate with a member of
the British Parliament.
Also on her way to Buffalo was
Beverly Eckert whose husband was killed in the 9/11 attacks. She had met with
President Obama the previous week and he called her “an inspiration.” Among
them was off-duty Captain Joseph Zuffoletto, travelling as a passenger.
It was now 10:09 p.m. and the
pilots were well into the approach. Captain Renslow bantered with Shaw. “How
are the ears?”
“Uh they're stuffy.”
“Are they poppin?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. That's a good thing.”
“Yeah. I wanta make ‘em pop.”
The two of them laughed. Shaw
had been feeling under the weather and had considered calling in sick for the
flight. “Is that ice on our windshields?” she asked.
“Got it on my side. You don't
have yours?”
“Oh yeah, oh, it's lots of
ice,” she replied.
The Bombardier Q400 has
sophisticated anti-icing devices on the leading edge of its wings as well as
parts of its tail and horizontal stabilizer. [53]
The propeller blades
themselves are fitted with an electrical de-icing system. The crew had
activated the anti-ice system eleven minutes after takeoff.
Automatic weather information
issued by the airport at Buffalo was reporting a blustery night in a visibility
of 3 miles in light snow and mist, with the temperature a chilly 1 degree. Not
threatening but less than ideal conditions demanding a higher workload of the
crew.
The aircraft leveled off at
four thousand feet and Shaw once again broached a subject they had explored
throughout the flight—how some of her co-pilot colleagues had complained about
a slow company progression to captain.
“No, but all these guys are
complaining. They're saying, you know, how we were supposed to upgrade by now
and they're complaining. I'm thinking you what? I really wouldn't mind going
through a winter in the northeast before I have to upgrade to captain.”
“No, no.” Captain
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