Over the holiday I watched a TV show (on Discovery, I think) about airplane crashes. I figured it would be a good idea to watch this since I had flown out to Georgia and would be flying back home soon. The show described in detail the behavior of each plane covered as it crashed. By far, the most disturbing crash to me was that of TWA flight 800. After the center fuel tank exploded (I called that one as armchair FAA investigator back when it happened) at 13,000’, the front of the fuselage broke of and nosedived into the ocean. The rest of the plane, since it still had wings, continued to climb while simultaneously increasing its angle of attack until it stalled at about 16,000’ and “nosedived” (it didn’t actually have a nose at this point) into the ocean.
My question: Were the passengers and crew in each portion of the fuselage conscious and aware of what was going on? I imagine that the passengers in the immediate vicinity of the explosion were killed or knocked unconscious by it. However, there seemed to be enough fuselage left on each side (I know, what I watched was a computer simulation, but still), particularly aft of the explosion, where it appears that the passengers could’ve survived and maintained consciousness throughout the whole ordeal. Or, the concussion could’ve knocked out everyone, which I hope is the case. As someone who has hiked up to about 14,000’, I know the altitude wasn’t high enough to cause unconsciousness. But, what would be the effect of having a 500 mph wind blowing in your face? I might have been able to answer this on my own, however, Design for Crashworthiness was offered at the same time as the Fatigue and Fracture class I needed to take. My internet search just turns up a bunch of discussion about missile theories.
My thoroughly uneducated, WAG is that the passengers would have been knocked unconscious by the blast. Being that close to a blast that rips a plane in two (or is it three?), with that amount of fuel is almost guaranteed to have caused instant unconciousness. Some were probably killed by the force of the blast also.
I have to disagree. IMHO, the people towards the back (aft of the wing) were as aware as one can be of what was going on. The qualifier is that there was so much blast noise, wind noise, and other sensory overload, that they probably weren’t able to think about what was happening too much, but rather just experienced it as it happened. They probably felt disbelief and then fear, but I doubt there was much real intellectualizing going on. In other words, I don’t think they were saying to themselves “The front half has blown off, we’re climbing, such-and such is happening” etc.; rather, their thoughts were probably along the lines of “AAAAA? AAAAA!”
P.S. Anyone even slightly interested in Airline safety should read Mary Schiavo’s book. She’s the ex Inspector General of the Transportation Department who quit in disgust because (to sum it up) she feels the FAA and other government regulatory agencies are more interested in aiding the industry in promoting air travel than in making it truly safe for citizens.
I’ll bet I can tell you the first thing that the English speakers aboard said:
“Oh, sh*t!”
I suppose we’ve all heard the rumor that the above phrase is the most common last statement on recovered flight recorders. Having been in a good dozen violent automobile accidents, I can attest to the fact that I said it, or at least thought it, every single time.
Hey, BunnyGirl! Hope you had a great Christmas and New Year! I’ll have to email you later so I don’t hijack my own thread with personal stuff.
As much as I hate to imagine it, I’m most inclined to agree with JCHeckler (not to dis BunnyGirl, of course!) regarding what the passengers went through. After all, the Challenger astronauts were conscious after the explosion, only losing consciousness after depressurization. Thanks for the book recommendation, JC. It sounds interesting, but I think I’ll pass. I’m edgy enough as it is when I fly without reading something like that.
Sofa King, you’ve been in a dozen violent auto accidents?! Jesus Christ. Remind me to stay the hell away from you on the highway. I agree that there is generally profanity on aircraft voice recorders after a crash, if not “Oh shit!,” then some variant thereof. The pilots are human beings, after all. I have a story to go along with that. Back in college, I co-op’ed at the Northwest Airlines DC-9 maintenance facility in Atlanta. Prior to a couple of mergers, that had been the headquarters for Southern Airways. After years and years of being in the same area of the building, we relocated our offices to the other end. During the move, I found a sketch in the drawing room of the path that the Southern Airways DC-9 which crashed in early 1977 had taken during its final moments. The map also included a transcript from the aircraft voice recorder. There was a legend with the transcript indicating that “# = Unintelligible Word” and “* = Impertinent Word.” Reading the transcript, it became pretty evident what was meant by “Impertinent Word.” The transcript included statements like, “Oh *, the other * engine is out too!” and “Well *, I’m going to have to land it on the highway.”
Anyone remember that terrible JAL 747 carsh where a large section of the tailfins went AWOL after a gudgeon pin snapped.
It stayed in the air for quite some time but the pilots had virtually no control over direction, any attempt to turn it was met with even less stability and it flew into the side of a remote Japanese mountainside.
Several passengers had the time to compose last letters to their loved ones.
Post your question on the forum at http://www.airdisaster.com. It is sort of the Straight Dope of things airline related. Please note, they have a lot of airline employees who can get really upset at these types of questions but if you are tactful, you shouldn’t catch any static.
Woah! Thanks for calling me out on that, folks. That was supposed to read “a good **half-**dozen.” They were pretty good ones, though.
Three of those accidents were with me driving and totalling my own car, plus one other unfortunate driver’s car. In the other three, I was a passenger. Two more cars were write-offs in those. Five of those accidents were two-car collisions, one of them head on and another a T-bone, the others severe rear-enders or glancing blows. One was all me (that one was the most spectacular, IMO). I’ve rolled twice, but one doesn’t count as “violent” because we just pushed the car back over and drove away with almost no damage.
That of course doesn’t count at least another dozen fender-benders, fence assassinations, creek dives, spin-outs and near-misses. People sometimes laugh when I say I’ve led a charmed life, but get this: out of all those accidents, nobody was seriously injured. Not a drop of blood, not even a cracked rib.
I quit driving long ago, but recently had to get my licence back in order to use rental cars on business trips. My company picks up the insurance, and has yet to complain. And the rental companies give me cars!
I drive very carefully now. Frankly, I don’t like it.
Hmm, Strain, good point re: Challenger. Must be my Optomistic Spirit taking over. However, since I’m flying down to New Orleans in April, I’ll continue to Think Happy Thoughts About an Airplane.
Anyone know the general amount of pressure or force required to render a person unconscious? There’s got to be some kind of figure and I have no idea how to search on something like that.
I wonder though how much of that time before death isn’t actually spent in utter confusion, trying to figure out what the heck is going on. I mean, yeah, a loud noise and fire while you’re flying is a bad thing but I wonder how long it takes for a person to actually work through a chaotic thought process to the point where they realize, “uh oh- I’m a gonner.”
I’ve read that it was possible that the Challenger astronauts could have been concious until the cabin’s final impact with the water, which is a pretty horrifying thought.
I was actually supposed to be * on * TWA Flight 800, but fortunately I changed my mind and took an earlier flight. Since that incident, air travel has absolutely terrifed me, and I usually spend the entire flight weeping quietly, and jumping at every bump and jolt of turbulence. I even leave a final note to my friends and loved ones on the kitchen counter before I leave.
I wouldn’t mind, I guess, if the plane just exploded in mid-air killing me instantly . . . it’s just the idea of having a few minutes to THINK about my imminent demise that’s so horrifying.
I hope you are not pulling our collective legs, because this is one of the scariest things I have ever read here. For some reason, this makes me feel just like you say you do. Good Goddess! How could you ever go on a plane, knowing you were that close?
I had a similar experience as Lissa’s. I flew Pan Am from Frankfurt to New York, the same flight number as the Lockerbie Pan Am, but the day after.
I actually hadn’t heard about the disaster, since I had been in India, and when I made the connexion in Frankfurt I just realised that there was a lot of congestion, but didn’t know why.
It wasn’t until we were on the tarmac that the passenger next to me mentioned it. I opened my complimentary Int’l Hearld-Trib,* and there it was on the front page. Just then, we started rolling down the runway.
It was an unsettling flight; I told myself that it couldn’t happen again the very next day, because security would be so tight, and tried to sleep my way across the Atlantic, without much success.
JFK was a welcome sight, even though the delays had caused me to miss my connexion home - spent the night in Flushings, with a few other stranded travellers, courtesy Pan Am.
I try to avoid thinking about that whenever I’m on a plane - sometimes successfully, sometimes not.
manny , thanks for the link. But my reading of the forensics report is that, while the injuries sustained were “instantaneoulsy fatal”, the injuries could have been produced by the plane’s impact with the water.
