Newsgroups: rec.aviation
Path: mythinc!moon!pixar!uupsi!psinntp!uunet!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!bronze!greg
From: greg@bronze.ucs.indiana.edu (Gregory R. TRAVIS)
Subject: 57E squawks hijack, Part 2
Message-ID: <1992Apr15.161304.24017@bronze.ucs.indiana.edu>
Keywords: I don't need no stinking keywords
Organization: Indiana University
Date: Wed, 15 Apr 92 16:13:04 GMT
Lines: 176

[At the end of the last episode, we are on our way to the Kankakee
police station]

I am still in a semi-dream state.  The whole thing has been totally
unreal.  It is now between 2AM and 3AM.  Earlier I had a fantasy that they
would take my passenger away immediately at the Kankakee airport, take
my phone number, and allow me to fly right back to Bloomington where I
could eat cold Pizza, drink warm beer, and GO TO SLEEP.

As I ride in the squad car, I still think that the police interrogation will
only involve a few cursory questions and that I'll then be able to leave.
I have the presence of mind, however, to realize that I am in no condition
to fly back.  We pass a Holiday Inn as we turn into the station.  I have
no money, but figure my credit cards will be good for a room there in
just a FEW MINUTES.

We arrive.  The staff on duty is VERY excited to see us.  My passenger and I
are almost immediately separated.  I still feel unbelievable amounts of
shame.  I am the betrayer.  I told him one thing and thought another.  I cannot
bear to look at him.

The police allow me to calm down a bit.  Give me some soda.  Ask me if I
need to call anyone.  YIKES!  You bet I do!  I forgot to close my IFR
flightplan!  I remember the controller at Chicago Center saying, on short
final:  "Report cancellation in the air or on the ground with Kankakee flight
service."

I did not need FAA hassles on top of what I already had.  I dial 1-800-WX-BRIEF
which is just about the only number I can think of.  Luckily, as I expected,
it connects me to Kankakee AFSS.

"Hello, this is Kankakee AFSS, go ahead."

"Ahh, this is N5457E, I just flew in there about 1/2 hour ago IFR and I forgot
to cancel my IFR.  Could you take care of that?"

"Ahh, yes sir, we already took care of that.  Chicago center called and
wanted to make sure you made it in alright and we told them what happened.
Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"No, thanks, I just didn't want to leave that open."

"No problem sir, we were watching you the whole time."

Then I got down to the nitty-gritty of calling people back in Bloomington to
let them know what had happened.  It's pretty hard to describe the
reaction of someone who's been woken from sleep, who's already mad that
you've disappeared, when you tell them you've been hijacked.

Then the police are all in a titter.  They don't know what to do, they
don't even have a FORM for this!  So I sit down with an officer and we proceed
to turn a "stolen auto" form into an "aircraft hijack" form.  57E
becomes a two-door sedan, license plate # N5457E (which turns out to be
too many letters, so we leave off the "N"), 160HP, White/Orange
Make "Cessna" Model "172".  I am not making this up.  We use the serial
number for the VIN.

All this time they are making phone calls to the FBI and the FAA (which they
call the "FFA" - I kid you not).  They escort me to the breathalyzer
room (which is the only room they have open) and tell me to sit tight and
please not to leave.  It is about 3-3:30AM now.

At one point, an officer comes in and says "Boy, you're lucky we got to
you before 'Shoney' [not his real name] did.  he's an ex-marine and was
pretty fired up about this thing."  Apparently the Kankakee police
had thought that a plane was being hijacked FROM the Kankakee airport
not TO it..  "'Shoney' [not his real name, which is ....] was all fired
up to shoot the tires out of any aircraft.  That was him racing up and
down the runway with his lights on."  I swear this is true.

All I could think was "Gee, it would have heightened the cockpit tension
level somewhat if we had our tires shot out on landing."

At one point I ask if I can lie down in a cell somewhere.  "No" they say
we need you here.  More time passes, I try and sleep on the table in the
breathalyzer room.  I am awakened and told not to do that.  I am extremely
tired.  They come in about every 40 minutes and ask me the same questions.

I fill out a written report.

Around 5AM they get a call back from the FBI, they're not going to take the
case because the guy was 17 at the time and within the jurisdiction of
the Monroe County Sheriff's department.  Can I go now?  "No" the FAA is
on its way.

At 7:30AM, Sunday, two gentlemen from the FAA O'Hare district office show
up.  They are FAA "Special Agents":  I didn't know they FAA had such
personnel.  They have been driving all morning down from Chicago.

They ask me the same types of questions, read my report, etc.

The fun stuff starts when they tell me what the reaction on the other
end of the line was.

First, I was picked up IMMEDIATELY when I climbed out of Bloomington and
I was tracked by Terre Haute.  However, because they had no secondary
verification they simply watched and waited at a low alert.  It was not
until I called Terre Haute AFSS on the radio and confirmed what was going
on that they really started things going.  Still, they were not quite sure
that they had a real situation because "I sounded so calm on the radio."

Well, *blush*, that was kind of the whole point.

When I confirmed the second time, while talking to Chicago center, the on-duty
controller for that sector had been relieved of his position and I was
talking to his supervisor.  I was also patched in, live-like, to the
Hostage/Hijack (I forget what they call it) crisis center in
Washington where officials were listening to my communications
with Chicago center.  Again, they were unsure of the exact nature of
what was going on because my voice was so calm.

The Chicago district FAA security detail was then woken up around 2/2:30AM.

One of the officers told me had got the call just as he and his wife were
arriving home from a show.

Apparently there were some more wires crossed and there was some
perception, I don't know how deep, in the FAA, that an AIRLINER
had been hijacked to Peoria.

We talked some more.  I found out that they had been trying to steer me
to Peoria because they had the necessary equipment (I don't know what
that means, exactly) there.  I am also still not sure if Moline was
really closed.

I asked why I was asked to verbally confirm my situation TWICE.  They
said they just didn't believe that I was really being hijacked
because I sounded so calm.  I still do not know why Terre Haute tower was
shining a red light at me ("Don't land here!  We don't want a hostage!"?).

I was asked not to divulge the "secret" code to the Newspapers because
it had "obviously helped me, so you can see that we need to protect
the next guy."  Well, I'm not terribly sure about that.

The security men mentioned that both Kankakee AFSS and Chicago Center
were "deeply touched" that I called back to cancel my IFR flightplan;
especially since it was totally unneccessary.

Finally, about 8AM I was allowed, given, a ride back to the Kankakee
airport where I slept on the sofa until about 10AM at which point the FAA
guys came back to wake me and ask me this question:  "If I was being hijacked,
how come my hangar was so neat and the door was closed?"  Apparently
the FAA was also all over BMG and had already searched my hangar.  I
replied that this was a condition that my passenger had stipulated.
He did not want there to be any appearance of wrongdoing at the airport.
They liked that and went away.

Soon I crawed out and got back in my airplane.  It was good VFR for the
midwest, 4 miles in haze, sky obscured.  I went back VFR because I
had had enough of rules, regulations, authority, etc.

In my plane I felt violated, like someone who's had their house broken
into.  It still smelled funny.  Stale tobacco (hint: I don't smoke) and
sickly sweet sweat.  I opened the windows for the flight
back.  When I called 10 miles out from BMG the tower told me
it was good to have me back.  Made me kind of embarassed, actually.

When I got back I had to wait another hour at the BMG airport for the state
police to arrive.  Officer Richardson was actually quite nice and human,
even though I had to wait 1.5 hours for him.  He took a taped statement,
went through my hangar with me, asked questions and told me it was time
for me to go home, that the media would be all over me and
perhaps I should just take the phone off the hook and have a few Budwisers.

I followed his advice to the letter.  But first I took a nap.  I finally
got home and into my own bed around 3PM Sunday afternoon, 18 hours after
it had begun.  At 8PM I awoke and went to some friends for dinner.  I
drank a lot of beer.

NEXT: AFTERMATH  - or - 
      Why do you think they're lawyers?

-- 
Gregory Reed Travis					D P S I
	
Data Parallel Systems Incorporated	greg@cica.indiana.edu