Emergency Landing, Silent Night
Hearts Heavy
A Night on an American Airlines CRJ-700
Last night, I flew into DCA on an CRJ-700, traveling from Pittsburgh. The small commercial jet, configured with 2–2 seating, required us to leave our roller bags on the jet way since the overhead bins could barely fit a purse.
The flight was operated by a captain and a first officer, assisted by two flight attendants.
Everything seemed normal. As we began our descent toward DCA, we were instructed to stow our tray tables. The city lights below grew denser suggesting that we were approaching the airport though I wasn’t exactly sure of our location.
Then, an unexpected announcement came from the pilot: an “emergency on the runway” at DCA had occurred, and we would circle for 40 minutes before attempting to land. Just 5–10 minutes later, we were informed that the runway had been closed, and our flight was being diverted to IAD.
We landed at IAD, but American Airlines didn’t have gates or ground crew available to assist us. As a result, we were left sitting on the apron for 2.5 hours.
Everyone remained glued to their phones, searching for information. Initially, details were scarce, but a video from the Kennedy Center revealed the grim reality a tragic crash.
Passengers whispered across rows, sharing what little they knew. Flight attendants, visibly shaken, distributed crackers, pretzels, and water as they moved through the cabin.
Eventually, we were relocated. The plane’s exit led us onto the apron, from where we boarded one of those mobile lounges. As I passed a flight attendant, I gently asked, “How are you doing?” my tone filled with empathy.
Her eyes welled up, emotions barely contained. Around us other aircraft were parked, each accompanied by mobile lounges ferrying passengers back.
Our mobile lounge finally departed, taking us to Dulles’ main terminal.
Fortunately, plenty of Lyft cars were available. I shared a ride with a woman headed to the same destination, DCA. The car ride felt somber, filled with an unsettling quiet.
When we arrived at DCA, an overwhelming number of police lights greeted us more than I’d ever seen in my life.
Initially I planned to be dropped off at arrivals and cross the walking bridge to the garage. However, a policeman informed us that the area was reserved for families who had lost loved ones. We had to find another route which we did without question.
I finally reached home at 2:30 AM. Upon learning that the incident involved an Army training exercise my shock turned into anger.
Why would the U.S. Army conduct a training exercise near the nation’s busiest runway? It’s as absurd as training people to drive tanks near elementary schools or practicing mortar fire near crowded beaches.
It’s a haunting realization knowing you were close to a tragic fiery plane crash. I pray that those on the ill-fated aircraft from Kansas City didn’t suffer.
Even now I feel a dizzy surreal sense of “What just happened?” while questioning how such a dangerous exercise was ever considered near a major airport.
Thank You.
Thank you for reading till here.
