Past tragedies have helped us avoid new ones
- Mike Cintron
- Aug 2, 2018
- 4 min read

I remember that flight distinctly. It was one of those moments that stops you in your tracks. One time, a friend and I were flying from Florida back to New Jersey on our airline passes and we struck up the kind of conversation that would get you kicked off of a flight today – air crashes.
We weren't trying to satisfy some macabre desire to shock nearby passengers nor were we trying to invoke our youthful right to be rebellious by engaging a subject many would have considered inappropriate inside the confines of an aircraft cabin. We were actually curious about the survivability of air crashes. Today, August 2, marks the 33rd anniversary of one of those tragedies, and it was that specific event that we were discussing on that flight.
As we talked about the wind shear that took down Delta Air Lines flight 191 in Dallas in 1985, we wondered what it would have been like to be one of the survivors. Was there guilt? Was there a lifetime's worth of flying fears? It was at that moment that a passenger across the aisle from us gently leaned our way and whispered to us: "I was on that flight." Full stop. No response. I was floored.
The journalist in me wanted to jump into that person's row and start interviewing. However, I held back. I had nothing to say, other than "wow, sorry" in so many words. I don't really recall much more of my reaction other than the fact that it silenced our conversation completely. I don't even know if that person wanted to talk about it more or simply wanted to shut down our not-so-comforting chat about airline crashes. It was awkward. The conversation was over.
2017 was the safest year in commercial aviation with zero fatalities – an astounding achievement. Though the law of averages dictates that such a perfect record is unsustainable, the fact is that safety records have improved over the last several decades thanks to better technology and a clearer understanding of weather phenomena like wind shear and microbursts. But aviation safety has mostly improved because of the hard lessons learned from previous accidents. We have better ground and airport proximity weather detection because of Delta 191 (and Eastern flight 66 before that). We have better wire shielding and fire suppression systems because of Swissair 111 and TWA 800. Many other regulations and practices have come about because of previous air disasters, from how long pilots should rest to what is permitted in the cargo hold.


Thankfully, we are hearing more stories of accident survivors instead of fatalities. The professionalism of the flight crew (think US Airways 1549, the Miracle on the Hudson) and the fire resistance of materials inside the aircraft cabin have improved the odds for survival in most air crashes. In 2013, Asiana Flight 214 crash landed and caught fire in San Francisco after a botched landing attempt. There were 3 fatalities (2 passengers were not wearing seat belts before being ejected from the aircraft) but 301 passengers and crew survived. That's just simply amazing. And just a couple of days ago, we learned that 101 passengers and crew walked away from the crash of an Aeroméxico commuter flight departing Durango, México.
The biggest danger to passengers can often be themselves. We've seen videos of plane evacuations that not only involved people trying to document the event selfie style and slowing down others trying to evacuate, but which have also featured the shocking scenes of passengers fleeing an aircraft after having gathered their carry-on baggage first.
Sometimes the videos are instructive. You probably recall a recent flight emergency where one passenger kept turning his phone camera on himself to record his reaction but he also revealed that he and many other passengers had been using the oxygen masks incorrectly. What part of "put the mask over your nose and mouth" means putting it over your mouth only like a feedbag? Apparently, he wasn't the only one who didn't quite listen.
We're quick to judge others for doing what they do during an in-flight emergency, but how do we know how we'd react under the same circumstances? The safety instructions we tend to ignore before takeoff really do matter. Do you count the rows to the next exit, even behind you? Do you consider wearing the right shoes to prevent being cut or burned? Hint: flip-flops aren't it. Are you really prepared to leave your belongings to get you and your loved ones out as quickly as possible? It's hard to be truly honest with ourselves until we're faced with these decisions in real time.
Planes are incredibly strong and resilient. Think about that the next time you encounter some heavy turbulence and fear that the plane's going to break apart. It won't. Aircraft interiors are made to resist or slow down in-cabin fires and that buys us time in an emergency. But passengers have to do their part too. That comfortable exit row seat is more than just an in-flight commodity. You can shout "absolutely!" from the comfort of that seat when asked about your willingness to operate the exit, but are you really prepared to do so? Are you willing to help others? If the answer is "yes, but only after I gather my personal belongings," then you really should be in a different seat.
From the color of the life jackets to the shape of aircraft windows, many of the safety features we benefit from today were paid for with real loss and tragedy. Survivability in an accident has never been greater, yet I can't help but feel awkward to be thinking of tragedies as a way to say "thank you." It reminds me of how that air crash conversation quickly turned uncomfortable. But there's a reason for it all. We're supposed to learn from the past and be better because of it. That might mean broaching some difficult topics, but the biggest honor we can pay those who paid the ultimate price in getting us to where we are is to continue to pay it forward. That means paying attention to your surroundings and paying attention to the announcements. Safe flying, everyone.
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