Cockpit Confessions of an Airline Pilot

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I was working my ass off, trying to hold the rocking DC-10 steady as we approached Los Angeles International Airport. We’d lost an outboard engine, unsuccessfully tried to relight it, and completed our emergency check lists.

Notifying the LAX controllers of our emergency, we’ve been cleared for an immediate approach. Now on final, about fifteen miles out, we are tracking the localizer inbound. We haven’t reached “Roman” yet, the final approach fix at glide-slope intercept.

Everybody’s sweating. It’s pitch black outside, and we’ve endured two hours of abnormal and emergency situation struggling to land safely. Now down to only two engines, and no hydraulics in the number one system, we reach the outer marker. I begin a let down, following the glide-slope to runway two-five-right on the south side of the airport.

“Engine fire!” screams the Second Officer, as red warning lights and fire bells pour more noise and adrenalin into our already intense cockpit.

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