The Andreini family gave their first interview since Eddie's death to KTVU's John Sasaki. John asks us about the lawsuit we filed today against the United States Air Force.
Following up on my recent posts on the incident, I had the opportunity to discuss the crash of AirAsia QZ8501 with Colin O'Keefe of LXBN. In the interview, I share my thoughts on the potential cause of the incident and what that might mean as far as compensation for families.
Eddie Andreini Accident: Air Force Documents Reveal Travis Officials Confused by Air Force Regulations
Airport fire trucks must get to a burning plane within three minutes if they are going to save any lives. That's the maximum response time allowed by the National Fire Protection Association, the organization that sets the standard for airport firefighters, including those working at U.S. Air Force bases.
The survivable atmosphere inside an aircraft fuselage involved in an exterior fuel fire is limited to approximately 3 minutes if the integrity of the airframe is maintained during impact. This time could be substantially reduced if the fuselage is fractured. . . rapid fire control is critical. . .
Aircraft flown in air shows are usually smaller and less fire resistant than transport category aircraft. At air shows fire trucks need to get to crash sites even quicker – within 60 seconds or less.
The key to getting fire trucks to a crash quickly is to station the trucks near to where an accident is most likely to occur. Normally, that might be the end of the active runway. But most air show crashes occur at “show center” rather than the end of the runway. As one Travis Air Force witness put it, show center is where ‘the majority of dangerous events focus.” At air shows, that's where fire trucks should be waiting.
On May 4, Eddie Andreini was flying a routine at the Travis Air Force Base open house. He was attempting a stunt known as an inverted ribbon cut. Something went wrong. Eddie's Stearman slid upside down along the runway, coming to a stop at smack dab show center. Eddie was uninjured but was trapped inside. A fire started almost immediately. Air Force personnel say that they saw Eddie struggling to get out as he waited for the fire trucks to save him. One minute passed, then two, then three. But the crash trucks didn't come. When they finally did, it was too late.
The Air Force refused to explain why it took so long for its fire trucks to reach Eddie. So we sued it under the Freedom of Information Act. We now have internal Air Force documents showing that the brass didn’t understand the Air Force’s own regulations. They mistakenly believed regulations prohibited them from stationing fire trucks near show center. So instead, the Air Force positioned the fire trucks more than a mile and a half away.
The Travis speed limit for fire trucks is 45 mph. So it took the first fire truck (a “Rapid Intervention Vehicle”) more than four minutes to get to Eddie. Had the Air Force positioned even one truck at show center--as it was supposed to--firemen would have gotten to Eddie within a minute and Eddie would have been saved.
Regulations can be confusing. Was the Air Force’s mistake understandable? Not really. The manual that Travis show organizers had in hand--and agreed to follow--makes clear that fire trucks belong at show center. According to that manual, the personnel who were permitted in the “aerobatic box” (the area in which performers fly) included “demonstration teams and fire/rescue.” (Page 28.) The manual goes on to direct that fire trucks should be located “with immediate access to the show line” (page 34) – not a mile and a half away.
To the extent the Air Force brass was confused, the FAA cleared things up for them when, a week before the air show, it told Travis that crash trucks did indeed belong “in the box” near show center.
Our team, specifically the air ops staff, was led to believe that we could not put an emergency vehicle (or anything else) inside the Show Box at Show Center, because it was sterile and protected. We learned that this was not correct about a week before the show after [name redacted] discussed it with [name redacted] of the FAA. We learned that we could place airshow official vehicles or people in the aerobatic box."
Travis had time
The Air Force's own documents prove that Travis officials had a week before the show was to begin to correct their mistake and arrange for the trucks to be stationed at show center. But the Travis officials had already decided that the fire trucks were going to be positioned where they couldn't be of any use to a performer. Having made a plan, they weren't going to change, even if it put lives at risk unnecessarily.
"I'll say it again, I need the trucks on the runway! I need the trucks on the runway now!"
The Travis Command Post recording is difficult to listen to. After hearing it, it's hard to believe that Travis still tells the public that its fire department responded to the crash in an "exemplary" fashion.
(Notes: At 2:14, one of Eddie’s crew tried to fight fire with a hand-held extinguisher. The extinguisher was too small and was expended in seconds. By that time, the Rapid Intervention Vehicle had not yet even left its station. The Air Force documents do not explain why it took so long for the truck to roll. It finally arrives on scene after the 4 minute mark. The time stamps were placed on the photos by Air Force.)
Asiana now says the autopilot confused the crew of Asiana Flight 214, and blames Boeing for the crash of Flight 214. ABC Channel 7 asked me to comment.
When the engine quits just after takeoff, the pilot has few options. One is to attempt to turn around and try to land at the airport. It's such a difficult maneuver that it's often referred to as "the impossible turn." I've written about the "impossible turn" before. AvWeb's Paul Bertorelli takes another look at the turn in the video below. Bertorelli suggests that the turn is an option that a pilot should not write off. But it does require practice.
My advice is to practice with plenty of altitude. I've had two cases involving fatalities resulting from turning back after simulated engine failures during flight training. One is here.
This animation compares what Asiana 214's approach should have looked like to what it did look like. From the data we have, the animation appears to be fairly accurate, except the audio is not properly synchronized. (The initial transmissions are from when the aircraft was 7 miles from the runway, not several hundred feet.)
If the audio were fixed, would this animation be admissible in court?
Not in it's current state. It relies too much on guesswork. But once the data from the black boxes is available and the animation modified accordingly, it's exactly the type of thing the lawyers would want to show to a jury.
Stephen Stock, an investigative reporter for NBC, talks about the hazards posed by night vision goggles improperly installed in much of the nation's EMS helicopter fleet. I was happy to offer Stock my thoughts. The FAA refused to comment on camera.
Imagine how difficult it must be for Rand Foster to go to work each day.
There was no fire. That allowed both occupants to survive.
No, not a miracle. Just a properly designed fuel system.
And everyone walked away.
The video is proof that if it has a properly designed fuel system, a helicopter need not catch fire after an otherwise survivable accident.
Hope the folks at the Robinson Helicopter factory take note.
Three Mooneys have crashed in two weeks. Each aircraft crashed on takeoff. Sadly, seven people were killed. Two of the accidents may have involved the "impossible turn."
First Crash: On July 5, a 1974 Mooney M20F (N7759M) crashed shortly after taking off from Watsonville, California. All four aboard were killed.
At first glance, the Watsonville crash and the Winslow crash seem eerily similar. The same model aircraft was involved in each. Each crashed just moments after takeoff.
But the two accidents are entirely different. The Watsonville crash is consistent with the pilot climbing too steeply to avoid a fog bank. There doesn't appear to be any evidence of an engine problem, at least at this point. Rather, as the pilot pitched the nose up, his airspeed bled off, and the wings (not the engine) stalled. According to one witness:
He was heading toward the coast and tried to climb . . .From the time he took off, he was going too steep, too slow. ... He spun to the left and you can see where the impact was.
In contrast, the pilot in the Winslow crash appears to have attempted to turn around and glide back to the runway after his Lycoming engine quit.
A Mooney departed then called with engine problems [saying he was] returning to the airport [from the] opposite direction. My friend circled giving the Mooney the right of way. . Later he asked the Mooney for a position, no response to a couple of calls. He circled for a while longer then landed. Rolling out he saw the Mooney off the departure end of the runway on its back. He said it looked like the typical return to the airport stall spin accident.
The attempt to return to the airport after an engine failure is often called "the impossible turn," because it so frequently ends in the aircraft stalling during the turn and spinning in, with fatal results.
Plots are trained never to turn back to the runway after an engine failure unless they have adequate altitude. Instead, land straight ahead, or slightly to the right or to the left. Better to land in the trees, but under control, then lose control of the aircraft and spin in. While a crash landing in rough terrain may result in serious injury or even death, spinning into the ground is almost always fatal. Losing control of the aircraft after engine failure must be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately, the temptation to try the "impossible turn" and make it to the runway can be irresistible.
This video shows a Mooney pilot attempting the impossible turn after engine failure near Sacramento, California in 2009. Both he and his passenger were killed when the aircraft spun in.
Third Mooney Crash: Finally, on July 18, a 1979 Mooney 20K (N777CV) crashed at Augusta Regional Airport while taking off, killing the pilot and sole occupant, a Mooreville doctor. That aircraft also came to rest within the airport boundaries. It appears this pilot also experienced engine failure, and also may have attempted to turn back to the airport, stalled, and spun in. Too early to tell.
I wrote here that the door on N146CK, the Cirrus SR22 that crashed August 4 at Deer Valley, opened in-flight. Yesterday, Fox News in Phoenix aired video from a security camera that captured the impact. Here are frame grabs from the video showing the open door.
Usually, when a door pops open in flight, aerodynamic forces keep the door from opening more than an couple of inches, as depicted here. The door on N146CK was open much more than just a couple of inches. Of course, the aerodynamic forces operating on this aircraft were far from normal.
Full video here. (Note: the video is disturbing.)
I often write about the NTSB's "party system." That's the NTSB's practice of asking airlines and manufacturers for help in determining an accident's cause. If you ask me, it's a bit like asking the fox for help in figuring out what happened to the chickens. The party system allows industry participants to bias NTSB probable cause findings in their favor.
The NTSB allows party participants to handle evidence and perform certain engineering tests. But one thing the NTSB insists on doing all by itself is downloading the data from an aircraft's black boxes. The NTSB's labs in Washington DC are well equipped for that job, and it doesn't require any "help" from the airlines.
The Safety Board learned that the recorders were flown to Tulsa, Okla., where American Airlines technicians downloaded information from the DFDR. . .
Because maintaining and enforcing strict investigative protocols and procedures is vital to the integrity of our investigative processes, we have revoked the party status of American Airlines and excused them from further participation in this incident investigation.
Many airports in the western United States are located at altitude. In the thin air, a departing aircraft's propeller and wings are less aerodynamically efficient. And without a turbocharger, the aircraft's engine won't be able to produce full power. All of that hurts the aircraft's ability to climb. Unless the aircraft is handled properly, after lifting off the runway it may travel for a distanceContinue Reading...
Updated February 12:
A Cirrus SR-20 single engine aircraft collided with a Pawnee tow plane that was pulling a glider. The Cirrus reportedly ran into the Pawnee's tow line. The Pawnee crashed and the pilot was killed. The occupants of the Cirrus were also killed. The glider pilot, however, recognized the impending collision, released his aircraft from the tow line, and landed without injury to himself or his twoContinue Reading...
Icing or pilot error?
Last April, the NTSB released the data from Flight 3407's FDR. I blogged about that here. Despite wide spread speculation that icing brought down the aircraft, it looked to me like pilot error -- not weather -- was to blame.
Then, in May, the NTSB released an animation derived from the aircraft's flight data recorder, its cockpit voice recorder, and ATC transcripts. I blogged about that here. The animation, like the raw data from the FDR, made a strong case for pilot error. From the animation, it appeared to me that an inattentive pilot allowed the aircraft to get slower and slower, until it became dangerously close to the speed at which the aircraft would stop flying altogether and simply fall from the sky. Then, when the critical moment came, the pilot pulled back on the control yoke instead of pushing it forward, thereby inducing an aerodynamic stall.
The NTSB made public its official probable cause finding at a hearing yesterday. No surprises to anyone who has studied the data. According to an article in today's Buffalo News, the NTSB summed it up as follows:
The plane got so slow that the "stick shaker" — a device that helps to prevent stalls — activated. But Renslow [the pilot] mistakenly pulled back on the plane's controls at that point, which is exactly the opposite of what he should have done.
In total, Renslow pulled back on the controls three times in response to the stick shaker and "stick pusher," forcing the nose upward. That caused and then exacerbated the stall.
It's almost unimaginable that a professional pilot would make the series of mistakes that the pilot did in this case. Even a new student pilot would know better. But that's what he did.
The NTSB played its animation for those who attended the hearing. The animation shows the pilot's errors mount. The activation of the "stick shaker" is depicted 2 minutes and 8 seconds into the animation. The shaking control yoke was a final warning to the pilot that he must immediately push the yoke forward. But instead of pushing forward, the pilot pulled back. Three times. After the third time, the aircraft stalled and crashed.
There were countless points at which this aircraft could have been saved but, inexplicably, the pilot failed to take appropriate action.
Burdett v. Teledyne Continental Motors involved the forced landing of a Beech Bonanza after the Teledyne Continental IO-550 engine installed in the aircraft came apart in cruise flight. The passenger was severely injured.
The National Transportation Safety Board blamed the engine failure on the mechanic who last worked on the engine, and cleared the engine manufacturer, Teledyne Continental, from any liability.
We suspected that the NTSB's determination had been influenced by Teledyne's engineers, who the NTSB had allowed to assist in the investigation, despite the obvious conflict of interest that presented. We thus conducted our own, independant investigation. We concluded that, contrary to the NTSB's findings, Teledyne Continental was to blame. After a six-week trial, the jury agreed.
At its annual convention in San Francisco, the California Trial Lawyers Association, known as the Consumer Attorneys of California, honored aviation accident attorney Mike Danko as a Trial Lawyer of the Year finalist for 2009 in recognition of our work in the Burdett case. The Trial Lawyers Association showed this video presentation during the ceremony.
I blogged about Scene Systems' animation of Flight 1549's landing in the Hudson here back in March. Great effort, but I noted that it would take hundreds more hours of work before it could be used in court. That's because it did not appear that the animation accounted for and synchronized all the available data for the flight. For example, the flight path depicted in the animation could not have been true to the information from the flight data recorder, because the flight data recorder had not yet been downloaded and made available by the NTSB. As a result, Scene System's finished product involved too much guesswork to ever be shown to a jury.
Just for fun, Kas Osterbuhr of Exosphere3d in Denver has been working on perfecting an animation ever since. He emailed me the link late last night. Kas, whose firm creates animations for use in court, explained to me that his animation is pretty much technically perfect.
Among the datasets utilized are: audio transcripts and recordings, digital flight data recorder, raw radar data, NEXRAD weather, witness statements, satellite imagery, elevation maps and several of the NTSB reports published in the docket. . .All aspects of this animation are based on actual data, whether from the NTSB docket or otherwise. The entire 3D reconstruction is built into a single environment where every piece of information can be aligned in position and on a timeline.
Tons of work went into this animation and it shows. Aviation accident animations don't get any better than this.
One question, Kas. The animation depicts flames coming from the aircraft's engines at certain times. On what data is this based and what would happen if the judge ultimately determined that that evidence for this aspect of the animation is insufficient to allow it to be shown to a jury?
November 9 Update: Kas' response is in the comments.
NTSB Chairman Deborah Hersman's recent testimony before congress concerning the mid-air collision over the Hudson raises more questions than it answers. She stated that the Teterboro controller instructed the Piper pilot to switch to frequency 127.85 to contact the Newark controller. But before leaving the Teterboro frequency, according to Hersman, the pilot read back to the controller "127.87," which was wrong. Thereafter, the pilot was in contact with neither Teterboro nor Newark, and so neither facility could warn him of the impending collision. Hersman's remarks are here.
Hersman's implication is that the Teterboro controller failed to correct the pilot, and so the controller contributed to the pilot's getting "lost in the hertz" (out of radio contact) at a crucial moment. However, the animation that the NTSB released on the same day that Hersman testified does not appear to back Hersman up. It just doesn't sound as though the pilot read back "127.87" as Hersman states. You can listen to the audio yourself beginning at minute 2:25.
Two months ago, Scene Systems -- a litigation support firm -- released its animation of Flight 1549's crash into the Hudson. I posted here that, in all likelihood, the animation would not be admissible in court. The legal objection would be that the animation "lacked foundation." For example, without information from the Airbus' black boxes, Scene Systems couldn't confirm the aircraft's flight path or guarantee that the Air Traffic Control audio was properly synchronized to the aircraft's path of travel. Therefore, the animation involved too much guesswork to be shown to a jury.
The National Transportation Safety Board has now released its own animation. Having retrieved the black bloxes, the NTSB was able to plot accurately the Airbus' position, speed, and altitude at each point along the aircraft's short flight. The NTSB then properly synchronized the Air Traffic Control audio to the aircraft's flight path.
The only audio on the NTSB's animation is the radio transmissions between the crew and Air Traffic Control. As is typical, the NTSB did not make public the audio of the cockpit conversation between the captain and the first officer. The NTSB did, however, prepare a written transcript of that conversation. The NTSB superimposed the transcript on the animation. (HOT-1 is the pilot, HOT-2 is the first officer.)
Would this animation be admissible in court? While Scene System's animation would not pass legal muster, the NTSB's work probably would.
I blogged here on whether it was icing that caused the crash of Flight 3407, or whether the pilot simply pulled back on the yoke when he should have pushed forward. The NTSB's animation, using data gathered from the aircraft's black boxes, makes a strong case for the latter.
The video is 2 minutes 39 seconds long. Watch the airspeed drop dangerously low by 2:04 and the stick shaker activate at 2:07. The pilot should have immediately pushed the yoke forward, which would have pointed the nose down and allowed the aircraft to regain airspeed. Instead, he pulls the yoke back.
Scene System's animation of the crash of US Airways Flight 1549 is a viral hit. The litigation support firm combined available ATC audio tapes, flight track information, and an on-scene photograph into a great recreation. This is the exactly the type of animation used in court to help juries understand the details of an aviation accident.
But would this particular animation be admissible in a lawsuit? Probably not. It incorporates too much guesswork. For example, Scene System overlays the animation with audio from Air Traffic Control tapes. Are the movements and positions of the aircraft properly synchronized with the audio? To do that right, you'd most likely need information from the Flight Data Recorder , which isn't yet available. Without that data, the animation is objectionable as "lacking foundation." It's safe to say that, before it could be shown in court, the animation would require hundreds more hours of work and refinement.
Of course, Scene Systems wasn't out to produce a recreation that was admissible in court. It was just trying to show the type of product it is capable of. And it did that very nicely.