Water Rescue on the Potomac

The plane crash hit close to home. I was a DC resident for the first 25 years of my life. The Air Florida plane wreck on the Potomac River in 1982 (78 fatalities, 5 survivors) was locked into local memory for a couple decades, I remember people still talking about it when I was a kid. In addition to geography, Home is also affinity. Airports are like seaports, in that it is an intricate transportation hub with different layers of personnel and job titles. There is big money involved, sometimes trickling down to employees as stock options and overtime pay. There are illegal drug shipments to be intercepted by law enforcement. With due respect to the frontline service workers, spending time behind the scenes, in the Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority admin office, personified the airport as a living being, in contrast to the impersonal Disneyland environment of the main corridors. Home is also the causes we think about. Until recently, my parents’ condo was under the northward flight path on the Potomac River. These are just a couple holes in the “Swiss cheese” failure analysis model, but show a system at its limits: Politicians used the force of law to maintain flight schedules and frequencies above sound aeronautical principles and guidelines. Economic considerations led American Airlines to use the airport as a transfer hub, instead of nearby Baltimore, a focus city for the airline, with a military-grade airport. Home is also a profession. When the aircraft hit the water, it became, in concept, several badly damaged boats with souls onboard. I refuse to comment on events leading to the in-air collision, but in the water, I do my best to understand and explain. It’s a rare miracle to revive someone who has drowned in ice-cold water. What presented itself to water rescuers the night of the plane crash was a lethal cocktail: Blunt Force, Drowning, Hypothermia. In contrast to New York or most maritime cities, DC does not have a large contingent of private vessels, relying instead on Police and Coast Guard assets. I of course fret the course of action taken within the first hour, the only hour that a rescue operation would plausible save lives, with the three mechanisms of death each claiming a stake in the “golden hour”. Maybe the right steps were taken, but I just don’t have the answers right now. The Coast Guard saying that “you have to go out, but you don’t have to come back” doesn’t apply anymore. A commanding officer is not supposed to put their subordinates at undue risk. (For that matter, going to a standard gun range, or donning a firefighting suit, are considered high risk activities). Were the junior officers and senior enlisted trained well enough, and familiar enough with their own capabilities, to take high risk independent action? To this point, our Military Sealift Command ships have civilian rescue swimmers. While the ships master has “overriding authority”, the rescue swimmer’s determination is given the greatest weight on whether or not to attempt a rescue. In conclusion, I hope that those involved in the water rescue can rest well at night, knowing that they did the most good.