March 11, 2025
How long do we have to tolerate complacency when it comes to aviation safety? How many near misses do we condone? Today, the nation learned of the NTSB’s preliminary findings of the deadly midair collision that occurred in late January between American Airlines flight 5342 and a US Army Black Hawk helicopter over the Potomac River in Washington DC. Director Jennifer Homendy, standing at a podium, revealed that in a 36-month period between 2021 and 2024, Ronald Reagan National Airport had experienced 85 midair near misses on approach to landing. Eighty-five near misses!
In fact, referring to a graphic that depicted the downward trajectory of arriving aircraft and the location of helicopters flying at an authorized altitude of 200 feet along an FAA approved corridor, Homendy explained there was only a 75-foot vertical separation between jumbo jets and helicopters. This shocking revelation made me do a double take. The distance equivalent to less than five car lengths would be the only thing separating two moving aircraft from a deadly collision. The visual was effective and absolutely terrifying.
The traveling public was just learning of an FAA-approved flight pattern that had been in effect for years. Chills ran up my spine as I pondered the many flights I myself had boarded to DCA, home to the busiest runway in the nation, naively trusting that someone in the aviation industry was looking out for my safety. How many times have I landed at that facility? Is it possible that one of my flights was among the 85 near misses quoted at the NTSB press conference? Had I unknowingly survived a midair close call?
Director Homendy referred to this 75-foot separation between two moving aircraft as an “intolerable risk.” Yet, this intolerable risk was unknowingly tolerated by thousands of passengers for years. An unattended risk that was swept under the rug by people in positions of power who relinquished their responsibility to protect those that trusted in a system we believed to be safe. I was having trouble wrapping my head around this information. How could thousands of passengers be placed in a potential collision course every single day for many years by the FAA, a regulatory agency we have grown to trust with our lives? How could the traveling public be betrayed in such a blatant fashion?
I am very familiar with this type of betrayal, a cover up of sorts, fed by corporate greed and vested interests. In 2008, I lost my brother, an airline captain, to a tragic airplane crash in Honduras at one of the most dangerous airports in the world. This tragic loss set me off on a quest for answers as to the true cause of the TACA 390 crash. My investigation would reveal the cause of the crash was due to a faulty runway that had resulted in hundreds of deaths over 30 years. Like in the DC crash, everyone knew of this unsafe condition, yet no one had done anything about it.
For decades, the industry norm has been to blame the pilot —70 percent of plane crashes are deemed pilot error. An overly simplistic conclusion to deflect attention away from other more alarming systemic issues. In recent years, however, we have exposed egregious safety gaps in the aviation system—Boeing’s cover up of aircraft design flaws, the FAA’s relinquishment of its core mission as safety enforcer, the airlines’ repeat deferment of maintenance services resulting in falling airplane parts from the skies, and a critical understaffing of air traffic control towers nationwide. These were not actions based on human error, but conscious decisions made by people in positions of power that ultimately eroded aviation safety and perhaps public trust. So, we must ask ourselves who is minding the skies?
As if all these safety gaps were not enough, there were other alarms that blared loudly when the New York Times exposed a series of close calls in major US major airports, 46 just in July 2023. All of this screamed of an aviation system under strain, but no one did anything to address it. Despite these shocking exposed risks that played out as breaking news, the industry continued to tout that flying was the safest mode of travel. The families of the 67 innocent souls we watched die on live television would beg to differ. This “safest mode of travel” is only true for those of us fortunate enough to survive a flight. Are we all survivors in a crash avoidance existence that plays out with every takeoff and every landing?
Fresh off the heels of laying off hundreds of FAA workers, weakening the agency even further, the Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy declared he was taking swift action in implementing the NTSB’s urgent recommendations to remove the helicopter route that created the unsafe condition. I was heartened to hear the outrage in his voice when asked if he was angry that the existing protocol had resulted in a deadly outcome. Frankly, we should all be angry. I sincerely hope Secretary Duffy continues to keep his eye on creating a culture of safety within the FAA even after people’s memories fade. But I was surprised that the press conference received very little attention from the media. Where were the demands for answers as to how something like this could happen? What other airports are subject to “intolerable risks” that place our lives in danger with every single flight? How can we, as consumers continue to trust that what we are told is the truth? How many more people must die?
The US Department of Transportation reassures us that only 1 person in 2 million will die in a plane crash. These are pretty good odds. Unless of course you are the statistical one. We must demand better of the aviation industry as a whole. If we as the traveling public can’t be moved to outrage when our personal safety is intentionally compromised, then we must expect history to repeat itself. If we continue to gamble with the status quo, next time, we may be the unfortunate ones to hold a ticket with a deadly outcome as its destination.