Honey? I just landed my airplane on Lake Shore Drive.
鈥淥K, you鈥檝e just lost your engine. Where are you going to land?鈥�
It鈥檚 the question every student pilot dreads but which every flight instructor asks at some point.
The instructor has just pulled the throttle back to idle, and the student has just seconds to set up an emergency landing 鈥� looking for a farmer鈥檚 field (land with the furrows, not across them, to reduce the risk of flipping over), a golf course, or a straight stretch of highway with no overpasses and as little traffic as possible.
Gravity rules. The aircraft will glide (or plummet) toward the ground. And assuming there鈥檚 no ejection seat or parachute, survival now depends on the pilot鈥檚 skills in quieting fear, judging the landscape below, and flying to a successful landing 鈥� defined now as one that can be walked away from.
In training, the instructor at some point well above impact throttles up the aircraft engine, then explains what the student did or didn鈥檛 do correctly.
(I still sweat remembering my own experience as a student naval aviator in Pensacola, Fla., 40-plus years ago. My instructor, who had otherwise indicated no sadistic tendencies, took control of the T-34 Navy trainer, flew a couple of stomach-churning loops and aileron rolls, leveled out upside-down, pulled the throttle back to idle and said, 鈥淵ou鈥檝e got it. Where are you going to land?鈥� I must have done something right, because a few training flights later he pronounced me 鈥渟afe for solo.鈥�)
John Pedersen had such an experience early Sunday morning.
He was flying his small Coyote II two-seater at about 2,000 feet over downtown Chicago when an external tail part broke loose, causing the aircraft to shake violently.
He radioed a 鈥淢ayday,鈥� but knew he couldn鈥檛 make it to either Midway or O鈥橦are airports.
Down below was Lake Shore Drive.
Mr. Pedersen, a 51-year-old electrician who told the Chicago Tribune that he鈥檇 been flying for about five years, picked a spot, timed his approach to take advantage of a red traffic light when cars were stopped, and smoothly planted the aircraft on the roadway. Firefighters and police quickly arrived to help push the Coyote II onto the grass.
鈥淭elevision crews soon started showing up, with reporters and cameramen crowding around the soft-spoken pilot clad in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt,鈥� the newspaper reported. 鈥淗ands in his sweatshirt pockets, Pedersen described his flight from Schaumburg Airport to Lake Shore Drive, repeating it again as other reporters walked up to the scene.鈥�
"It's a blessing," he said.
As reporters and bystanders crowded around, Pedersen cellphoned his fianc茅e to detail the location where she could fetch him.
鈥淵ou can鈥檛 miss it,鈥� he said, stating the obvious.
When Ileana Alvarez arrived, she teased him about his aviation pastime.
"He wants me to get on a plane with him," she joked to reporters. "Are you kidding me?"
But, she added, "As long as he's OK, that鈥檚 what matters to me."
There鈥檚 a first for everything, and this was Pedersen鈥檚 first flying emergency.
鈥淭here鈥檚 always a risk. I always look for a place to land,鈥� he said. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 important. That鈥檚 probably what saved my life today.鈥�
Pedersen owes his flight instructor a root beer float.
