The Anthrax Vaccination Inoculation Program (AVIP) became the most tawdry, disgusting, and despicable operation I witnessed in my thirty-four years in the military. Every agency meant to protect the troops from such a travesty defaulted on their duty and sold out the troops entrusted to them…If a foreign power had done this to our troops, we’d have gone to war, but our government did it to us with impunity, and we did nothing.

This aurora borealis brought deep wonder to me as well, flying high above the Arctic. I could almost sense these long, colorful, ribbons of glowing light as the flowing robes of God passing before us.

I had hired this pilot, mentored him, and protected him when others at the upgrade meetings expressed doubts about him. He was my golden boy. He had taken every accolade in his pilot training class – best everything: flying, academics, leadership, everything. He knew the airplane exceptionally well and flew very well. Yet, still, rumors about him persisted. I finally told the training committee that I would give him his upgrade recommend ride myself to end all this nay saying about him. Now I sat, stunned and apoplectic. Dr. Jekyll had turned into Mr. Hyde before my eyes.

When it came time to depart two days later, the copilot’s Nicaraguan girlfriend and mother showed up at the terminal where we were filing our fight plan. Both the girl and her mother presumed the copilot was taking the daughter back to “the land of the big BX” to marry her. I won’t guess what the copilot had promised her, or even if he had promised anything. Regardless, the mother thought this was a done deal and was there to wish her daughter, suitcase in hand, a happy life and a loving good-bye. Imagine their surprise to discover this would not be the case!

I listened to music on my car radio but decided to catch the nine-a.m. news on WCBS in New York as I approached the Philly airport. I listened through the static crackle and could almost make out the voices, but something wasn’t right. CBS was transmitting a very tenuous, scratchy report from an on-scene reporter in New York City about some sort of plane crash. I could not quite make out all the reporter was saying, but my reptilian brain stem went on alert. I slowly pieced together that some sort of aircraft had crashed into a skyscraper in the city.

At 1:55 the aircraft is in full stall and has lost almost 1,000 feet. The copilot calls for the pilot to “Put the nose down”. Reportedly, the pilot is holding full back pressure since there is no stick shaker warning of the stall. At 1:58 the airspeed has remained at 50kts for the previous 15 seconds. The aircraft is in a near 90-degree right bank. The copilot warns “Watch the (engine) temperatures! You’re climbing!” Actually, the aircraft nose is now falling through level flight in a full stall.

At 2:06, the aircraft is 10-degrees nose low, in a 90-Degree left bank and passing through 3000 feet. There is silence on the interphone. I asked the crew at the initial interview why no one was speaking. The copilot answered, “We were all saying our prayers.”

As the assistant led me into the interview studio, I got weak-kneed. Rome Hartman, the 60 Minutes producer, greeted me and thanked me for agreeing to be interviewed. I shook his hand, but behind him saw Lesley Stahl seated in a brightly lit space with a white screen behind her. Opposite her sat an empty chair, my chair, just beyond Stahl’s reach.

Demonstration at Dover’s North Gate
With this backdrop, a group of military dependents began agitating for answers to the many questions swirling around the (anthrax) program. When base officials refused to provide these answers, and refused to meet with the families, the group, in frustration, requested a permit to demonstrate at the base’s main gate.
The Air Force refused to issue the permit.
Apparently forgetting that one facet of the Air Force mission is to protect the Constitution, Dover AFB denied its own family members “the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” Finally, realizing the utter Constitutional depravity of their position, the base issued a permit to the group to demonstrate at the seldom used back gate totally out of public view.
In one of the several heroic actions by the troops and their families during this episode, the families picketed the alternate main gate (North gate) anyway in an orderly, peaceful, but loud expression of their rights.

The crew ran the gear extension checklist quickly before landing. The final checklist response requires the copilot to look at the aft gear caster needles for forward alignment and to say: “Landing gear down and aligned, copilot.” The copilot did so and reported "down and aligned."
Shortly thereafter, as the aft gear touched down, the right-aft gear began skidding, then snapped and broke off its strut, or bogie. As it broke off, a loud tone blared throughout the cockpit, warning that all gear were not down and locked. The aircraft shook violently as the right-aft gear separated from the aircraft. While the aircraft slowed, the tower frantically alerted the crew that heavy smoke was pouring from the right aft portion of the fuselage and the right-aft gear appeared to have failed and departed the aircraft.
After coming to a stop, the pilot ordered the scanner to deplane to assess the situation. Fire trucks scrambled to the scene.
Confusion reigned in the cockpit. The crew had to assess their situation with the gear warning tone blaring in their ears unexpectedly. The scanner soon reported the right-aft gear had broken off and lay back by the touchdown point.

Rolling the aircraft into the left turn, I marveled that with barely more effort than turning my car’s steering wheel, I smoothly maneuvered half a million pounds of steel and aluminum gracefully through the air. I did so with reflexes honed over thirty-three years of flight for thousands of landings in half a dozen various aircraft. My country had trained me well to serve its needs, but now those robust reflexes would become obsolete as soon as the wheels touched down on the runway.