Length: 930 words/4 minutes

Like many kids, when growing up I was fascinated with the “old” black and white films. I say “old,” for this was the early 1970s and those days of movies without color were really not that far in the past—even if their otherworldly air bespoke a different era.

I particularly enjoyed those rare times (remember, these were those prehistoric days before cable or satellite television) when a British war film was being shown. The absolute sang-froid of some of those characters was, to an impressionable youth, nothing short of heroic—the coolness under fire of the pilots in the Dam Busters, or in later years (and in color!) the theatrical Squadron Leader Rex in the Piece of Cake series to name just two examples.

So it was no surprise that when I was learning to fly that one of my instructors, who probably had watched just as many of those movies as I had, told me that during an in-flight emergency the number one cardinal rule was never, and he meant never, sound distressed or panicked on the radio. The goal was to behave like one of those British pilots who acted as if he had pure ice in his veins.

Over the years of course, I learned that we Yanks have our own style. Although it is different from the crisp English tones of those war movie heroes, it is not half bad at all. I think of the famous United Airlines DC-10 accident in Sioux City, Iowa when the control tower cleared the fatally wounded jet to land on the runway of the Captain’s choosing and the co-pilot calmly retorted “Ah, it has to be on a runway does it?”

Recently, as I was hitching a ride from Birmingham to Baltimore on a competitor airline, one known for its great customer service and its perky staff, I was treated to a master class by one of the flight attendants in how to face down a tense situation with pluck and humor.

Before we started our descent into Baltimore we flew through, or very close to, the top of a thunderstorm. For a full minute, and maybe even more, it was a violent bucking bronco ride. I heard a scream from someone seated behind me and plenty of loud gasps for air.

The captain was immediately on the public address (PA) telling the flight attendants, who had been in the aisle taking the last trash from the passengers, to immediately be seated. In airline procedures, when we as pilots use this terminology it means that the attendants should sit anywhere they can—including taking to the aisle floor and just holding on.

Now I do not know a single pilot from anywhere in the world who has not made the mistake that follows—I know that I have embarrassed myself a number of times in this way.

But when the captain finished on the PA he forgot to move his radio selector back to talk to the air traffic controller… so when he next transmitted, thinking he was giving his report to the controller on how nasty the ride had been, he instead broadcast on the PA and back to the cabin! As his tense voice carried from the speakers I could see the blood drain from the faces of a number of already very anxious passengers.

In the next few minutes what had been a quiet flight suddenly filled with the hum of a hundred passengers burning off their adrenaline by doing what humans do in such circumstances—chat. We all know that tipping point, the short period of stress and its after-effects broke the ice and now people wanted to commiserate and trade their flying “war stories” about turbulence and rough rides.

Yet more was yet to come as again, without warning we were once again jolted through a series of unsettling ups and downs. A young businessman across the aisle blurted out an exasperated “Oh come on now!” and the calm that had finally returned to the cabin was suddenly cracked.

The landing was hard—there was no question about it and we arrived with a solid thump. Hey, sometimes you win and sometimes you lose but either way, the landing was a fitting, if rough, coda to the hour.

As we taxied toward the terminal you could have heard a pin drop…that is until the male flight attendant making the announcements dispensed with the usual “welcome to Baltimore where the local time is…” No, this evening he simply said, with a bit of wit that would have done those old British black and white movies proud: “Well ladies and gentlemen, there you have it then!”

With this, the cabin erupted in laughter as the world’s best medicine did its trick. When we arrived at the gate the captain was out of the cockpit in a flash to take his chops and face the crowd like a man, but that single announcement from the flight attendant single-handedly washed away any lingering worries.

As we all gathered in the baggage claim to wait for our suitcases the mood was almost festive as we chatted about the flight. The flight attendant had given us a great lesson in leadership. He knew, probably from both experience and intuition, that there are a lot of different kinds of tools in a toolbox, and he chose just the right one to get the passengers back on an even keel and happily on their way.

Chalk one up for the Yank way of doing things!

Stay average!