Chapter 15 - Mohawk Airlines

According to Boy: Evie and I loved Mohawk Airlines—I, because it was my airline of choice in 1967-68, and she, because it was my airline of choice in 1967-68. I used Mohawk almost exclusively when I wanted to fly home to see her. The reasons were simple: Mohawk flew out of LaGuardia, and into Detroit; plus, they did it on the cheap. Their program allowed me to fly on any Mohawk airplane, making any connection for which there were seats available, for twenty-five dollars. Of course, there was one little stipulation—I could not get on one of their Mohawk Fairchild Hiller FH-227 turbo-prop airplanes before 5 p.m. Friday, and had to be back at New York’s LaGuardia before 5 a.m. on Monday (or something like that).

So, quite frequently I would call Evie to see if she could meet me in Detroit on a Friday night (she always could). We would spend the weekend together, and she would drop me off at Detroit Metro Airport just in time to catch the flight back to New York. Back then we were paying about thirty cents per gallon for gas, so it really was a cheap trip. I don’t recall how many times I used Mohawk, but it was more than a few. When Evie flew out to visit me, I always had her fly United Airlines, but I liked to use Mohawk when I was traveling by myself.

According to published accounts, labor problems led Mohawk to enter merger discussions with Allegheny Airlines; and after the crash of Mohawk Flight 405 (which killed seventeen), the company was purchased by Allegheny, which later became US Airways.

My most memorable moment on a Mohawk flight occurred on one of those twenty-five dollar weekends. It was snowing and raining a little when we left New York, but it got progressively worse. By the time we arrived at our first stop (either Buffalo or Albany), visibility was very poor. The plane was not full, but there were probably thirty passengers.

Our next stop was supposed to be someplace like Erie, Pennsylvania. Even though I could not see anything out of the windows (because of the overcast), I could feel the plane circling and dropping altitude. This went on for a long time. Then, suddenly, we popped out beneath the cloud cover, and I could see a chimney out of my window—I could look right down it. I am no expert, but I don’t think we could have been more than a 150 feet above it. There was no airport in sight.

The plane then wrenched and groaned. It felt like the pilot was stepping hard on the gas pedal. I was sitting in the front seat, right in front of the door separating the cabin from the cockpit. The flight attendant was sitting beside me. I noticed fear on her face.

Just then the pilot came on the intercom. He informed us that he had been attempting an instrument landing at Erie, but that so far he had been unable to accomplish it. He said that he would make one more attempt. If that didn’t work, he would take the Erie passengers on to Detroit, and Mohawk would have to make other arrangements to get them back to Erie.

"There are no passengers for Erie!" the flight attendant exclaimed. "I pulled them all off in Buffalo!"

With the pilot’s announcement, a man in the rear of the plane jumped up out of his seat, and came running to the cockpit door. He began pounding on it, trying to get the attention of the pilot. "You’re crazy!" he shouted. "I’m a commercial pilot. This can’t be done! I’ve got my son on this plane, and you’re gonna kill us all! This is insane!"

 

The flight attendant quickly intercepted the angry man, and told him to go back and sit down. She also told him that she would make sure there were no more attempts at an instrument landing. She was not a large woman, but she was convincing. The pilot from the back did not go to his seat, but he did sit down on an empty seat across the aisle, as the flight attendant entered the cockpit.

A few minutes later she returned to the cabin, and informed the angry passenger that there would be no more attempts to land at Erie. "I promise you that," she told him. "Now please go back and sit down in your seat." The man did just that, and she sat back down beside me.

"I don’t know why no one informed the pilot that we had pulled all Erie passengers off in Buffalo and sent them surface transportation," she said. "Erie’s closed. Someone dropped the ball on this one."

I thought it interesting how differently from me the father in the back of the plane had reacted to the emergency. Because he was both a pilot and a father, he was furious at the close call. But as for my reaction, I just thought it was exciting.

I guess when you’re young, death is not really a serious consideration. After all, "nothing could hurt me," not back then.

Four years later, Mohawk Flight 405 (out of LaGuardia) hit a chimney and crashed on its approach to the Albany Airport. I didn’t check the passenger list, but it is probably safe to say that there were fathers on that flight, and probably children, and more than likely there were even some college students who thought they were invincible.