Ok, so the news is out. The German pilot was suffering from depression, and he hid it from the airline (probably) because he knew what all pilots know: If you’re being treated for depression, your wings are clipped until and unless a flight surgeon clears you for flight. And rightly so. But having their wings clipped is such a horrible thing for a pilot, they try to deal with it on their own and, as in the German airline case, they endanger the lives of others because of it.
In May of 1996, I became engaged to a handsome, smart, funny and loving man who was a fighter pilot instructor for the Air Force. He was one of the very best, known for going out of his way to counsel students who were close to 'washing out' of training, and he always got them back on track.
One night in July of 1996, the night before he was to perform a check ride on one of this students, he came to me in the middle of the night. He had his flight suit in his hand and he was crying. He told me in the saddest little voice that he "couldn't fly". "Don't make me fly. I don't want to fly." I asked him what was wrong. He said he didn't know. But I knew. He was suffering from depression. I begged him to let me call his C.O. He dropped to his knees and wrapped himself around my feet, crying, and begged me not to tell anyone. I actually had to tie his flight boots for him, and in my heart I knew I should be dialing the phone instead. But I did it. And he flew. And he came back. That time.
Having lived on the periphery of commercial and military aviation for more than 20 years, since I had married a military pilot when I was just 19 years old, I had a good understanding of the thought process of professional pilots. Having suffered from devastating depression myself, I had no idea how he would manage to come out of this dive on his own. But with pilots, it's a choice -- either cover it up and deal with it, or you're grounded. We all know the sane choice here would be to ask for help. But depression somehow saps lucidity of thought. Just the act of being in command of an airplane puts a very effective instrument of potential destruction into the hands of a person.
David ended our relationship by disappearing. Just disappearing. He took leave from work, so he covered that part of his life, but he just disappeared from mine. I wore my engagement ring for years, wondering what happened to him, loving him and wondering how he could do this to me after we had made plans for a life together.
Some years later, I heard he had died alone in an air crash in a field somewhere in the Midwest. The details of the crash were sketchy, but in my heart I knew. Fortunately, his was the only precious life that was extinguished, but it could have been worse.
Pilots are human, too, and they suffer the same frailties of the human condition, and they differ only in the fact that their greatest love – that of flying – will be taken from them if they admit to depression.
Would I want to fly in an airplane knowing the pilot in command was taking psychotropic drugs for mental illness? No. Was it ‘mass murder’ that occurred in the German airline incident? In my opinion, yes, it was mass murder.
So what to do? I have no idea. Thanks for letting me share.
Ok, so the news is out. The German pilot was suffering from depression, and he hid it from the airline (probably) because he knew what all pilots know: If you’re being treated for depression, your wings are clipped until and unless a flight surgeon clears you for flight. And rightly so. But having their wings clipped is such a horrible thing for a pilot, they try to deal with it on their own and, as in the German airline case, they endanger the lives of others because of it.
In May of 1996, I became engaged to a handsome, smart, funny and loving man who was a fighter pilot instructor for the Air Force. He was one of the very best, known for going out of his way to counsel students who were close to 'washing out' of training, and he always got them back on track.
One night in July of 1996, the night before he was to perform a check ride on one of this students, he came to me in the middle of the night. He had his flight suit in his hand and he was crying. He told me in the saddest little voice that he "couldn't fly". "Don't make me fly. I don't want to fly." I asked him what was wrong. He said he didn't know. But I knew. He was suffering from depression. I begged him to let me call his C.O. He dropped to his knees and wrapped himself around my feet, crying, and begged me not to tell anyone. I actually had to tie his flight boots for him, and in my heart I knew I should be dialing the phone instead. But I did it. And he flew. And he came back. That time.
Having lived on the periphery of commercial and military aviation for more than 20 years, since I had married a military pilot when I was just 19 years old, I had a good understanding of the thought process of professional pilots. Having suffered from devastating depression myself, I had no idea how he would manage to come out of this dive on his own. But with pilots, it's a choice -- either cover it up and deal with it, or you're grounded. We all know the sane choice here would be to ask for help. But depression somehow saps lucidity of thought. Just the act of being in command of an airplane puts a very effective instrument of potential destruction into the hands of a person.
David ended our relationship by disappearing. Just disappearing. He took leave from work, so he covered that part of his life, but he just disappeared from mine. I wore my engagement ring for years, wondering what happened to him, loving him and wondering how he could do this to me after we had made plans for a life together.
Some years later, I heard he had died alone in an air crash in a field somewhere in the Midwest. The details of the crash were sketchy, but in my heart I knew. Fortunately, his was the only precious life that was extinguished, but it could have been worse.
Pilots are human, too, and they suffer the same frailties of the human condition, and they differ only in the fact that their greatest love – that of flying – will be taken from them if they admit to depression.
Would I want to fly in an airplane knowing the pilot in command was taking psychotropic drugs for mental illness? No. Was it ‘mass murder’ that occurred in the German airline incident? In my opinion, yes, it was mass murder.
So what to do? I have no idea. Thanks for letting me share.