USAIR TALES #9 KCLT - MKJS The Wrong Stuff...

So I got the call to fly to Jamaica again... Needless to say I was pretty excited about it. Now this time I made ABSOLUTELY sure I had my passport, and whatever other necessary paperwork I needed. However, this time it was to be different... see I had just gotten my promotion to Senior Captain, and had mentioned in passing last time I was in KCLT that I had been studying up on the 757-200 and doing some sim time. Well some strings were pulled, and suddenly I found myself in here.



The right seat... can't tell you how long it's been since I have been in this seat. For this flight I was paired with Captain Keith Wiggand, who supposedly is one of the best 757 pilots in KCLT. Now I have to admit, he looked like a washed up wrestler, but if anyone would give me the opportunity to try my hand at this behemoth it would be him, so I got all my paperwork ready, and settled in for my newfound First Officer gig.

Knock on the door...

Tiffany. How did you get here?

"Hey Drew... I told you, where you go I go. I am not taking any chances. I brought my special tea too!"

Oh lawd... I'll pass today. Keith this is Tiffany, Tiff, Keith...




With a courteous smile, Tiff went back to the galley to assert her dominance over the other flight attendants... in her usual style, and I got ready for the checklist.

"So you ever fly the '57 before Bolton?"

Can't say I have... I figure this will be my intro to heavies.

"Yeah well I will take care of most of it and go through some stuff with you, so you get a better idea of how it SHOULD be done. You'll learn a lot from me. There's a reason why I'm the best!"

Hmmm... sounds like it.




Not long after we were pushed back, into midday traffic... looks like a takeoff on runway 5. This ought to be fun in this monster. Keith graciously allowed me to take care of taxi duties as he grabbed a nip of chewing tobacco... wait a minute, are we allowed to use chewing tobacco onboard?

And where the heck was he gonna spit it out???

My answer came soon enough as he produced a small silver vase from his flight bag...

I tried not to puke.




Today was as busy as any other in Charlotte... Steeler Airlines seemed to have a stranglehold on the takeoffs today. The fledgeling company was doing an awesome job lately at cornering the value added airline market. I even hear they serve hot meals still, at a time when most airlines stick to pretzels and drinks. Unheard of in this industry... but from what I hear the entrepreneur who runs the airline has the backing of the Steelers, so I expect money is no object... unless it's draft time. Good to see Pittsburgh has a foothold in the national airline industry. If I was not already entrenched in USAir I'd probably be flying with them.




I think Tom Petty said it best... the waiting is the hardest part. No I take that back... the watching my Captain spit brown gobs of smelly goop into a spitoon is the hardest part.

Dude... No offense man, but are you gonna do that the whole flight?

"My plane Bolton, I do what I want."

Well excuse me... To borrow a Star Wars phrase... I had a bad feeling about this one.

I wondered how long this dude has been flying, and how many first officers he has been through in his career... Well at least I had Tiffany with me. One familiar face will at least help keep me sane... something tells me I will need it.




15 minutes later... FINALLY it is our turn to depart. My excitement level rose like a little kid on his first roller coaster ride. Not only was I going back to my homeland, but on a 757 no less... Even though I thoroughly enjoy flying my "Steeler Air", if I enjoy this particular flight, I may well be moving on to the next logical step up in my flying career. Now if only I could pull some strings and get a steeler logo painted on the tail!

"Ready Bolton?"

Yup...




"Now that's what I call a takeoff!!!" Keith boomed with a maddened look in his eyes...

He has GOT to be kidding me... He used EVERY INCH of rwy 5 and we barely made it over the ILS lighting before he decided to skim the bushes and FINALLY pull up!!! OK This dude obviously has some kinda thrill issues going on...

I think we almost clipped a Nissan there on the highway!

Man how I wish I had Barney here at least... maybe two to one we could take him.




As I looked out the starboard cockpit window I stared longingly at Charlotte... so far this guy has not really impressed me, and I could not help but think maybe this was gonna be the last time I see Charlotte alive.

"So Bolton, you wanna fly this sucker for a lil, I really gotta take a whizz!"

Umm you realize we are in a 10 degree climb, not even past 10,000 feet.

"Yeah well just hold the yoke man. Be right back"

HE GOT UP!!! OMG HE GOT UP!!!

I'm in an unfamiliar plane, basically trying to keep us stable, and this idiot gets up to go to the restroom??? Ok, that does it... I am reporting him to his hub manager when we get back.

To make matters worse, he stuck that dang spitoon behind my seat!!!




7 minutes later... Hot Shot the pilot comes back.

"Damn, that Sbarro don't agree with me... whew. You might not wanna go in there just yet

hahahha"

Yeah... I think I can hold it for a few.

"Ok I'll take over now..."

Sure thing, by the way, you mind moving that thing from behind me please?

"Whatsamatter Bolton, can't handle the chaw? hahahaa."

I gave him a disapproving look... and with a roll of his eyes he took back his spitoon... and placed it ON THE PEDESTAL!!!!

Not much better. This was going to be a long flight...




Just south of Columbia,SC, I noticed some nasty looking thunderheads in our path. Now we were originally filed to go through that mess, but in my experience, always best to err on the side of caution and call for a way around. I reached for the ATL center frequency and prepared to announce...

"HEY! What you doing?"

What do you mean what am I doing? I'm calling the tower! Don't you see those cumulonimbus up ahead?

"It's just a little stormcloud man... If you gonna be a wuss this whole flight you can always sit in the jumpseat man. I told you MY PLANE, i do what I want!"

Now look buddy, that may be so but you had better not forget I am management. We do things by the book here in this airline. Unless you would rather walk back from Jamaica, I suggest you chill out and I'll call the center for a modification to our flight plan!

No response from Keith... I thumbed the frequency and got us a slight change of plans around the nastiest of the clouds.




Talk about a conflict of interests...

So here is what I cannot understand... I am a captain and a manager... how did this guy get to be a captain, and was he perhaps passed over for being a manager? Where is his attitude coming from?

I knew I could not answer these questions myself... but I knew one thing... He was not long for this airline with that attitude, and perhaps he knew it...




Several quiet minutes later we found ourselves over Orlando, with Cape Canaveral in sight.

Not a peep out of mister Hot Shot... I had to ask...

So Keith... how long have you been left seating the 757 anyway?

"7 years, what of it?"

And in that time... you ever feel like you are "going somewhere", or is this just like a job?

"What kinda dumbarse question is that?"

Well I am just curious... is this what you WANT to do, or is it just what you feel you HAVE to do?

He looked at me like I was a martian or something...

and paused...




......

......

Knock on the door... Tiffany.

"Hey guys... here's some drinks for ya. Don't worry Drew, it's all juice!"

Thanks Tiff. I was grateful for the break in the silence, as my "captain" stared off into the distance like a gargoyle.

"Oh look, it's Lake Okeechobee! I used to live round there." Tiffany added.

Yeah I bet you can count the gators from here...

Tiffany rolled her eyes and headed out, casting a strange "what's his problem" type of glance towards Keith, then looking back at me as she closed the cockpit door.




Almost there... light puffy clouds over Cuba... and for the most part all I have heard from Keith is the occasional mumble and the unmistakable sound of a spitful of tobacco in a silver spitoon. I decided to check my approach guides, and the maps of the area, even though I knew it somewhat well, and have been here under my own steam. It killed time... something to do.

"I'm leaving. Ain't nothing more here for me..."

Say what? That was the first time I heard Keith make a sound other than spitting in the last half hour.

"I'm tired man. I been passed up for promotion 4 times, this damn airline done shorted me pay on flights and the FAA been down my back lately about my eyesight."

Ok... well this was news to me.

I think he was being serious...




"When I am done with this flight, I might just stay in Jamaica. You can hand my papers in to CLT. I ain't about to go on doin' this crap man."

Are you serious?

"Yup."

I honestly did not know what to say...

For once I was actually speechless. Here is a guy who obviously has been somewhat beaten down by either the system or himself... and he was at the end of his rope. Now it was starting to make sense. I wondered how long it took before he got to this place... how many people he pushed away just to bring himself to this place... and what his future held.

I read his dossier... he had been an awesome pilot for the last decade at least, but mounting emotional issues seemed to plague his career. Now here he was... revealing to me that he was pretty much done.

It kinda made me feel sad for him.




Well if nothing else Keith, you owe it to yourself to finish it up. I can take care of whatever paperwork you need, but you gotta be sure this is what you wanna do man.

"It's like you said... is this what I wanna do, or what I have to do. I ain't gonna lie to ya Drew. I got me a wife in Jamaica... and a house done bought and paid for. When we land... that's it for me. I been plannin this a while now."

What could I say? There comes a point in a man's life when he knows he just has to move on. Nothing I could say at this point would change that. He was in his late 50s, and obviously burnt out.

I did the only thing I could do... I called Kingston Center in prep for our approach, and loaded up our procedures for landing.




The approach was cloudy to say the least... and I could feel how much different the 757 was to the Airbus, as I brought us down to our vectors to final.

Keith was strangely quiet, except for pointing out things to do that I almost overlooked as a newbie 757 pilot.

"Ok, kick back man, I am gonna take us in from here."

Here was a man on his last approach of his career... I let him have the yoke.

I took mental notes as he glided us down to final fix, localizer kicked in, and we began our descent... hmm.. a little lower than normal, but heck I am in a different airframe.




The haze was ridiculous... we could not even see the threshold... and I could not help but get that little nervousness that even the most seasoned pilot gets, wondering whether this several ton piece of metal and such would actually stay afloat long enough to pass over the painted number 7 that meant welcome to Montego Bay. As we cleared the haze, my suspicions about being too low were realized...

Ummm Keith... what is that at the end of the runway?




Almost looks like... a telephone pole?

Dude we are kinda low here!

"Naw... we will clear it."

Ok granted I have never left seated a 757 before, but I am pretty sure we are way too low here.

"Just chill out man, I got this. I GOT THIS."

Keith I am NOT kidding here... pull up.

PULL UP!!




I could have sworn i felt the wheels touch the top of the telephone pole as we hunched up then plopped down onto the runway almost halfway down!

It's a wonder we had any gear left to land ON! We spent the next 4 seconds engaging thrust reversers, speed brakes... autobrakes... everything that would stop this damn thing just before we ended up in the grass!




We stopped within 15 feet of the end of the runway.

It took me about 2 minutes before I realized yes, my heart WAS in fact still beating. I can only hope the passengers were oblivious to this... landing.

Keith, in a profound state of defeat, and with the obvious realization that he almost killed us all... quietly folded his arms, and nodded at me to take us in. He put his semi full spitoon back into his flight bag, and started reaching for his jacket.

I did not say a word...




No sooner I had us on taxiway alpha, I had to open the window... I had to get some clean, fresh tropical air... As I gazed at the palms across the runway, the sense of calm came back over me. I was back in Jamaica. This time for a week, some of which I would spend flying...

and most importantly, we are alive.

I pulled us up as graciously as my still shaky hands could do, and not once did I even glance at Keith. He knew what was up... He knew what lay ahead... and there was no point my belaboring the issue.

I am after all a manager. It is my job to evaluate people, groom them for a future in this airline, and correct them if needed.

Here was a man who needed no further guidance.




I pulled us up to the gate... turned off what I remembered to turn off... Gave Tiffany the word to prepare the cabin for debarkation.

As I went to turn off the seat belt sign, Keith clasped his bag... took off his company wings, and dropped them on the pedestal next to me.

Without a word, he was the first person out of the aircraft.




That was the last we ever saw... of Keith Wiggand.