Sorry that the truth in my previous post struck a nerve.
It didn't. You've clearly got nothing to contribute here, and given your very limited posting history on the site, you likely won't have anything to contribute in the near or distant future, either. It seems that your posting consists of exactly what you're doing here; mindlessly barging into a thread with nothing useful to add, flapping your gums, then moving on.
You've not got the wherewithal or capability to strike a nerve, mate. Don't flatter yourself.
I still hope they'll stop someday, but they never seem to.
Of course they won't stop.
I found the attitude of the general masses at Reno several years ago to be rather telling. During an open-floor discussion about Gary Nagel's loss, pilot after pilot stood to say he had been sure something would happen, but had been waiting for the next guy to call it off. Each man, to a man, very uncomfortable with the conditions over the fire, yet each unwilling to make the call. None had to, of course, because Gary died on the fire, and that put the brakes on the operation.
Will fatalities stop? No.
Are they preventable? Yes.
TCAS, EGPWS, and advanced training and more frequent recurrency won't stop the losses. Fresh blood won't stop the losses.
Only each person who holds a card, each person who flies a fire, each person who dispatches, flight follows, loads retardant, turns a wrench, or signs a paycheck has it in his or her power to change the statistics. We all know that it's never a matter of if, but when, and every time we lose someone we all know, there's a collective gasp for air as we stop holding our breath for the season and reality once again shows it's face. Nothing new under the sun.
I lost track of the pilots who put paychecks over safety, and survived it so many times they became living legends with a ticking clock on their back. Some make it long enough to retire, others don't. We all know the tried and true "
it's only trees and grass," and it was me that came up with and first presented "
it's not an emergency, it's out job:" the slogan you see on all the posters. It's a can-do industry with a can-do attitude, and it's that can-do attitude that gets people killed. I've met far too many who honestly believe that our mission is to find a way to make it happen, when the proper attitude is to look for ways to not allow it to happen, and then go if we can't find any. "
Safety of flight," is the magic buzzword, but too often it's trampled in favor of the bottom line.
We are an industry full of talented professionals in a very unique occupation; I've met very, very few with whom I wouldn't share a cockpit, and I've shared it with many. One thing I never did was Duane's laundry, of course, but then you probably knew that.
When Safecoms quit being weapons or meaningless must-do's for bureaucrats, when resource orders become requests and not orders, we can look to a time when we see less mishaps. We see them less today than we did, and there have been many positive advances in the industry. Everything we do, every policy we follow, every contract requirement and limitation, every regulation, every jot and tittle, is written in blood. It's the changes paid for in that blood that have written where we are today, and the writing is incomplete. Until it is, more lives will pay to slowly shape the changes that are required to move the industry toward that place when losing a friend is the exception, rather than the rule.
Until then, we have the rule none of us wants, but into which each of us may at any given time, contribute.
I knew Tom, I flew with Tom, I knew his character, and he was a good man. Those who say aught, know not whence they speak.
to contradict your exalted expertise on everything is at risk of the scorn of your ignore list! ooooohhhh! Not to mention, the ones that call you out on your borderline sociopathic conduct will be ignored too.
