As we were getting ready to go to press on Jan. 15, a breaking news event occurred. Over the skies of New York City, a US Airways Airbus 320 aircraft that had just taken off from LaGuardia Airport enroute to Charlotte, NC, apparently hit a flock of birds and lost power. The pilot determined that he could not make it to the next-closest airport, Teterboro in New Jersey, so he prepared the passengers and crew to land the plane in the middle of the Hudson River separating New York and New Jersey. The river is a mile wide and 54 feet deep where he landed and the water temperature on the coldest day in three years was 42 degrees.
The jet glided to a water landing off West 48th Street in Manhattan. The pilot and crew worked to get the passengers into life rafts and some stood on the wings of the jet awaiting rescue. Within minutes, ferries and water taxis, sightseeing vessels, and FDNY, NYPD and Coast Guard boats of all sizes converged on the emergency site.
I immediately turned on my Manhattan fire radio and listened to dispatchers and numerous responding units attempting to stage themselves in the best locations because the jet was drifting south in a strong current. FDNY, EMS and police took up positions on land at 42nd Street, at a ferry terminal at 38th Street and the West Side heliport at West 30th Street. Some passengers were transported to New Jersey. On both sides of the river, passengers were triaged and treated. Hospitals geared up for a dreaded influx of dead and injured, but all 155 people on board the jet made it to shore alive. There were only a few minor injuries. Some were calling the incident a "miracle on the Hudson." Compared to what could have happened, it is truly amazing.
The firefighters, police and EMS, especially units based in Manhattan, are no strangers to situations like this (our own Paul Hashagen, when he was with FDNY Rescue 1, rescued the pilot of a news helicopter that crashed several years ago in the Hudson River near the site of last month's incident). Besides the attacks on the World Trade Center, units had to respond to many 10-60s (major emergencies), two high-rise crane collapses and a major steampipe explosion created havoc. These events pique our interest. With advances in technology, cell phones, text messaging, TV news helicopters and breaking-news pager networks, the fire-rescue service nationwide knows about an event of this magnitude almost instantly. Years ago, we would read about it the next day in a newspaper or the following month in a magazine.
In another important topic covered in this issue, Mark Emery asks when the fire service will adapt strategically and tactically. This review of strategy and tactics from many years earlier is compared to today when firefighters advance farther into fire buildings, fires are burning hotter, buildings collapse faster and crews need larger fire streams. Operating today means that command of an incident has taken on a new look. While many have operated in a specific command mode for years, the rest of us have been slow to come onboard and now are using all the knowledge provided by many skilled tacticians. Read what Chief Emery has to say on page 64.
On a sad note, the funeral for Lieutenant Kevin M. Kelley of Ladder 26 of the Boston Fire Department, who died in an apparatus crash, was held a few days before this was written. I rode with Ladder 26 in the early 1980s. The company was always quite busy, answering "smells & bells" in their response area, which consisted of many universities and hospitals. A trolley ran right in the middle of Huntington Avenue, where the firehouse is located. A shoulder patch made at the time showed the tiller of the company's rig attached to trolley wires at the tillerman position. At the time, Ladder 26 was nicknamed "The Huntington Ave. Express." In 2008, Ladder 26 was the second-busiest ladder company in Boston in runs, responding 3,771 times. More than 5,000 firefighters attended the funeral in Quincy, MA.
For comments, ideas and suggestions, please contact us at [email protected].
