Thoughts and Writings from the furnace by Kent Weathersby

Where Are You?

I was recently reading an article about advancements in commercial aviation. Topics ranged from improved next-generation Wi-Fi featured on the new Boeing 737 MAX 9 to research and development of rocket propulsion for supersonic intercontinental travel. Science fiction continues to become reality.

Although no longer brandnew, one of the most important advancements in aviation is fly-by-wire flight controls. These systems employ an array of computers that assist the pilot by providing protections against over-controlling the aircraft. Kind of like when we were teaching our children to ride a bike: running along beside them like a side-kick with a nudge here and a catch there to keep them from crashing. As we often say – the pilot has a vote in how the aircraft is flown.

But what if pilots become lulled into a false sense of security by the ever-present, watchful protections and automations and they became unavailable? Would they have the necessary proficiency in flying the plane by hand without their side-kicks? That’s exactly what happened on the evening of May 31, 2009, when an Air France Airbus A-330, bound from Rio de Janeiro to Paris, plunged from 38,000 feet to the Atlantic Ocean in just over 4 minutes, taking the passengers and crew to a cold and watery grave. It would be five days before any sign of the aircraft would be found.

Two years after the crash, both the cockpit voice recorder and the flight data recorder were found on the ocean floor. The story they told is mystifying: how could such a catastrophic event happen to an aircraft without a single component failure?Books, websites, articles, and government reports abound with technical explanations for what happened.

Fully understanding the tragic event would require a great deal of technical knowledge and human factors insight. But one thing is for certain: so overwhelming were the cascading factors and downgrades of protections and automationthat the pilots became lost. Not lost in the navigational sense but lost in not knowing where they were with regard to flight control capabilities and flight regime.

With the loss of roll-rate protection, the pilot flying was riding a “bucking bronco.” In his determination to get the wings level, he unintentionally climbed 3,000 feet where he entered a full stall – a condition he did not recognize until it was too late. So confused by the myriad warnings and extreme indications that many times during the fall to the ocean, the crew was actually “fighting” against each other with opposing inputs with the side-stick controllers in attempts to reverse the descent. Not a dive – they were literally falling.

Sadly, had the crew known “where they were,” all that was needed to save the aircraft and all on-board was to rely on the attitude indicator to set the nose just above the horizon and to set the thrust to a normal cruise setting as had other flight crews who had found themselves in similar situations. Instead, the pilot flying, contrary to reason and in full panic, continuously pulled back on the stick to stop the descent. An action that deepened the stall and sealed their fate.

I believe that there are life lessons to be learned here. It’s easy to navigate life on the autopilot of good health, a strong family, and stable employment. All these protections cause us to nestle inside a false sense of security. The pilot flying Air France 447 had probably not kept his hand-flying skills as sharp as they should have been. He may not have had an understanding of what he had left when things quit working. And worse, he did not recognize the nature of the crisis that had befallen him. He was lost.

This happened to me many years ago. I was cruising along on the autopilot of life with a solid marriage to my eighth grade sweetheart, dream job, and an FAA First Class physical in my wallet. From out of nowhere, my life began gyrating – faintly at first and then increasingly uncontrollable. The more I fought it, the more disoriented I became. I was fighting myself with constant self-analysis and opposing neurotic defenses trying to hold everything together – much like the pilot flying Air France 447.

Finally, I began an emotional plunge into a very dark sea of despair. I couldn’t resist fighting, but everything I did made it worse. At times, I felt like I could see frontiers of unreality off in the distance. I lost my dream job, health, and my flight physical. I tried summoning my spiritual resources which amounted to giving my all to being a better Christian. My brokenness was not a spiritual problem – the stress I was putting on myself was making things worse. Like pulling back on the stick in a full stall. I simply didn’t know where I was. I was lost.My state of affairs landed me in a hospital for 5 weeks. Fortunately for me, my wife, family, and best friend stuck by my side praying continuously.

Finally, when I was virtually incapacitated, the Lord in his mercy and grace, miraculously reached in and set the pitch of my soul to just “above the horizon” and the thrust of my heart at “normal cruise.”I flew out of it. It wasn’t long before I was fully restored in every respect. Obviously, I could expand on this and someday I might if I believe it would help someone. For now, I will say this: “There is healing in His wings.”

In a crippled world, it is crucial that we establish the necessary skills to maintain continual fellowship with God and to know what it looks like to be outside of His protections. When things start falling apart, we don’t want to find that we are lost.

“Then the Lord called to the man, “Where are you?”

Kent Weathersby