Yankees pitcher's plane crashes into Manhattan high-rise

Since it was a Cirrus, are there any reports on whether or not the chute was deployed?

 

guess he was in the other 100% then... To me it looked abit foggy, in the air maybe it was just a CFT sort of occasion.

 

Can somebody please tell me how the hell do you fly up the east river with an instructor in the right seat and make a descending left turn and fly into the side of a building ! ! !
My ears still ring from the screams of my instructors when I was screwing up. How the hell could this happen ? ?

 

I'm guessing it's as simple as they had an emergency (bird strike, engine failure, fire, whatever) and got too busy trying to keep airborne to do anything else and just simply couldn't recover...... I have only had the pleasure of one true emergency (engine fire) and people's attention tends to get rather focused and talking to tower/atc/center can get pretty low on the priority list. Alternatively it seem like sometimes people get a little too focused on trying to figure out what the problem is (fiddling with dials, checking circuit breakers, etc) and forget about the flying.

 

The classic (and very tragic) example of this was the crash of a Delta 727 flight into the Florida everglades in 1972. A crew of three find a burned-out/malfunctioning indicator light in an otherwise new aircraft, and, as all three work to fix the light bulb, the aircraft begins a slow descent that went undetected until it was too late.

 

Or heads down ( in the cockpit) and locked in. Same thing happened to a United Airlines DC-8 when the capt. got mezmerized by a problem and disregarded the flight engineers warnings that they were running out of fuel. They did and put the airplane down in a neighborhood about five miles short of the airport.
The last 307 Boeing Stratoliner was ditched in Elliot Bay several years back when the crew got totally engaged in a landing gear problem and ran out of fuel in sight of Boeing Field.
I'm not the most experienced pilot but i like to think that I had some damn good instructors, all of whom survived the war, and I got" an awakening" when I screwed up. I happened to bury the head just once in a mild emergency and I'll never forget the " reminder" to fly the airplane as well as to work the problem.
Switches

 

Are you indicating that here was'nt a problem in the cockpit and they were sightseeing below what should have been minimum altitude in that area?

 

From what I get from CNN, Lidel's plane had flown up the left side of the east river and had completed a LEFT 180 deg turn that put it in a stall after which it hit the building. Engine was running at time of impact. A left turn into the the mass of high rises ? I can't quite get a handle on that one when there was ample room to the right over the river.

 

This accident presents some interesting issues and possibilities.

I learned to fly in the NY (what was then called TCA) class B airspace at Republic (FRG) field on Long Island in the 1976 and am very familiar with the northbound corridors up the Hudson and East rivers. I've flown up the Hudson on several occasions but not on the East River corridor because it's a little narrower and closer to LaGuardia's airspace than the Hudson is to Newarks.

My theory is that the weather played a MAJOR factor in the accident and I present some items to support this.

1 - Weather was overcast for most of the day and within an hour or so after the accident it was raining. So much so that the first game of the NLCS between the (my) Mets and St. Louis Cardnals was rained out.

2 - He was on a VFR flight which requires that he stay below 1100 feet. I've read that he was at about 700 feet as he was flying up the East river on the western side, that is to say between Manhattan Island on the west and Roosevelt Island on the East. The crash into the 40th floor of the building was about 450 to 500 feet. As all we pilots know, altitude is life. I wonder why he would give up approx. 400 feet of alitiude for his sightseeing.

Unless.... Unless the ceiling was coming down in that area.

Picture this: He is flying up the East river between Manhattan and Roosevelt Islands at 1100 feet and flys into IFR conditions. He is not instrument rated or experienced. his Flight instructer likely IS instrument rated and declares: "I've got the airplane" and takes over control. He begins a descending 180 degree turn to the left (tactical mistake!) and regains VFR just in time to be confronted with cumulus high-rise. No survivors.

Here are a couple of more supporting factors to this theory:

3 - The wind that day was out of the east, meaning that it was blowing the aircraft TOWARD Manhattan. If they were in actual IFR, they would not have seen that they were not going to complete the 180 over water.

4 - It was reported that Cory was discussing with some media folks the safety of the BRS parachute system his plane was equipped with some weeks earlier. Why did he not pull the chute? Probably no time to think about doing so coming out of an overcast with a building in front of you.

What would I have done if dumb enough to fall prey to this theoretical sequence of events I have presented? If unable to continue the turn back out over water,I would have tried to make a RIGHT turn and fly across any of the east-west streets (East 72nd street where he was is a particularly wide street) all the way across to the Hudson river, about a mile and a half away. There are no buildings above the streets at 500 feet.

Anyway, for what it's worth, that's my theory.

What say you folks?

Planeflyr

 

Don't know nuthin 'bout flying arond NYC and a bunch of buildings. I have flown in and through the mountains out here on the west coast and you don't do it unless you have a plan and have practiced maneuvering in tight places and if you do get caught, fall back on what you have practiced in VFR conditions. My son and I had to thread the needle one day going through Snoqualmie Pass when the tops were in the clouds. One flew while the other read the charts and called out turns and features. Half flaps, 65 mph, flew on right side of the pass and worked from turn to turn . If the next turn wasn't visible it was a left 180 turn to go back. It worked fine.

 

The following was copied off of AvWeb last evening.

Not exactly good VFR (ceiling-wise) but it should have been safe unless, as I theorized yesterday, they experienced locally IFR conditions which would not be terribly out of the ordinary considering the overall prevailing conditions.

Planeflyr


"The pilots in the Cirrus had reportedly been on a sightseeing flight in the area. They had taken off from Teterboro Airport, six miles west of New York, in nearby New Jersey, just 23 minutes before the crash. Weather indicated a ceiling at 1500, with visibility 8 miles in drizzle. The airplane circled the Statue of Liberty then headed north up the East River. The VFR airspace beneath the Class B follows the river at 1100 feet and below, ending (dropping to the surface) north of the crash site. The VFR airspace in that area might be described as a box canyon with a roof. The corridor (and river) is roughly 2,000 feet wide, contains five bridges, Roosevelt Island, has tall buildings on both sides and often includes helicopter and sometimes seaplane traffic. Winds were reported ENE at 13, with gusts to 22. Witness reports suggest that the airplane had made a u-turn to the left from a northern heading. The aircraft hit the north face of the building, at about the 40th story, and broke apart. The Manhattan landscape one block north of the crash site includes two tall buildings to either side of the Belaire -- one closer to the river, one farther."

 

Planeflyr, I agree with your assessment and I heard somebody speak to this theory earlier today as well. As I understand it, they tried to make a U-turn to head back south down the East River corridor but in doing so did not account for the prevailing winds from the East, which effectively widened their arc and caused them to laterally hit the building they did.

You get a gust of 22 knots hit you while you are making a left banking turn in a narrow space, and it's very possible to get blown into the building.

I further understand the CFI with him was from California, and potentially unfamiliar with the traffic patterns, conditions and winds along this route.

I've flown the same corridor about two months ago, when I was seeking to resume flying. However, instead of making a U-Turn when we were parallel to Central Park, we made a left turn over the Park and headed back West to my airport.

In the hands of a well-trained and vigilant pilot the Hudson River-Statue of Liberty-East River route can be one of the most breathtaking trips you'll ever take, given the Manhattan skyline. In the hands of a novice pilot or one unfamiliar with the surroundings it can be - as we've all seen - a deathtrap.

Best.

 

Should come as no surprise to anyone:

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Feds: Light wind blew Lidle plane off course

WASHINGTON (AP) -- A light wind was cited by federal investigators Friday for blowing a small airplane carrying Yankees pitcher Cory Lidle off course and into a New York City high-rise on October 11.

The National Transportation Safety Board said the wind, coupled with the pilot's inability to turn sharply, forced the aircraft away from its intended path over the East River and into the building.

The airplane, which also carried flight instructor Tyler Stanger, struck the building and fell 30 stories to the street below. Investigators do not say whether they determined who was at the controls of the Cirrus SR20.

The report issued Friday said the airplane was flying along the East River between Manhattan and Queens when it attempted a U-turn with only 1,300 feet of room for the turn. To make a successful turn, the aircraft would have had to bank so steeply that it might have stalled, the NTSB said in an update on the crash.

Lidle and Stanger were making an aerial tour of Manhattan before flying back to California.

Though Stanger was an experienced pilot, Lidle was not.

Investigators found no problem with the propeller and engine, nor did they find any evidence of a fire or other damage while the airplane was in flight.

If the pilot used the full width of the river to turn, he would have had 2,100 feet, the NTSB said. Instead, the pilot was flying closer to the middle of the river, leaving a smaller margin for error, the staff report said.

Two days after the accident, the Federal Aviation Administration ordered small, fixed-wing planes not to fly over the East River unless the pilot is in contact with air traffic controllers.

Small planes could previously fly below 1,100 feet along the river without filing flight plans or checking in with air traffic control. The FAA said the rule change -- a temporary one -- was made for safety reasons.

The NTSB's update outlined factual information about the crash, but did not conclude what the probable cause of the crash was. The full board will likely vote on a ruling at a later date.

Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

 

NYC Plane Crash Was All Too Typical
Updated 11/7/2006 11:06 AM ET
By Alan Levin and Brad Heath, USA TODAY

As New York Yankees pitcher Cory Lidle and his flight instructor cruised their small plane over the East River past spectacular views of New York City skyscrapers, they ran into a deadly mix of problems that repeatedly contribute to crashes throughout the country.

Lidle's fiery crash last month into the side of a New York high-rise was the most publicized small plane incident in years, but it was typical of fatal accidents that occur four or five times a week and claim hundreds of lives a year, according to a USA TODAY analysis of accident statistics and top safety experts.

Lidle and instructor Tyler Stanger found themselves in circumstances that often lead to deaths in small planes:

• About one-fourth of all fatal accidents on recreational flights occur when problems develop during aggressive maneuvering. Such maneuvering can include aerobatics, buzzing the ground — and the tight U-turn attempted by Lidle and Stanger above the East River moments before their crash.

• Pilots with 100 hours or less time in a specific aircraft model account for 45% of the fatal crashes for which data are available. Lidle had flown less than 100 total hours since learning to fly in the past year. Stanger was a veteran pilot but had little or no experience flying the Cirrus SR-20, according to friends. Neither pilot had flown much in the complex air routes around New York.

• A loss of control triggers one-third of fatal recreational plane crashes. Though federal investigators haven't finished their investigation of the Lidle crash, it appears almost certain that the pilots lost control before their single-engine plane hit the 42-story building, according to preliminary information from the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB).

A preliminary report by federal investigators Friday cited a stiff wind blowing Lidle's plane off course. The NTSB said the wind, coupled with the pilot's inability to turn sharply with only about 1,700 feet of room, forced the aircraft off its intended path over the East River.

Lidle and Stanger were cautious, safety-minded pilots, according to people who flew with them. But so are most of the people who crash, says Michael Barr, a veteran pilot and director of the University of Southern California's Aviation Safety and Security Program. "The majority of accidents happen to good pilots who are very confident of what they do," Barr says. "Sometimes they do something that is beyond their abilities."

Lidle and Stanger "do fit a profile, there is no question about that," says Bruce Landsburg, executive director of the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association's Air Safety Foundation.

Numbers Near Record Lows

The numbers of private plane crashes and resulting deaths have fallen dramatically since the 1980s. In fact, after staying flat for several years, the totals for crashes, fatal crashes and deaths are poised to set record lows this year.

Fatal crashes involving personal private plane flights such as Lidle's fell from 372 in 1982 to 220 last year, a 41% reduction, according to a USA TODAY analysis of data from the NTSB. Deaths declined even more, a 51% drop from 785 in 1982 to 381 last year. This year through Sept. 24, there were 123 fatal crashes that killed 220 people on personal flights, well below the same period in recent years.

The federal government does not monitor the number of hours flown per year on personal plane flights, so it's impossible to calculate the rate at which they crash.

But in the broader category of all flights except those of air carriers, there have been about 1.3 fatal accidents per 100,000 flight hours since 2000. The fatal accident rate has fallen from an average of 1.6 per 100,000 hours in the late 1980s, but it is still more dangerous than other types of flying. Airlines, by comparison, have only one fatal accident every 10 million flight hours.

"I can't say that personal flying is safer than driving a car," says the Air Safety Foundation's Landsburg.

A staunch defender of private flying, Landsburg says the safety records of such flights are good and getting better. But he bluntly highlights several well-known trouble spots — which nearly always involve "lack of either skill or judgment" by pilots — in an annual accident summary.

"If you go flying with me on a nice sunny day and we decide to take a cross-country trip, I would suggest that your odds are very good of getting where you're going," Landsburg says. "If you have to get over the Rocky Mountains in January in a small plane that is not certified for icing conditions, your risks have just gone up exponentially."

Because as many as nine out of 10 private plane accidents are attributed to human error, Landsburg's group and the Federal Aviation Administration are focusing safety efforts on better educating pilots about the issues linked to the most fatal accidents, such as aggressive maneuvers, bad weather and maintaining control.

NTSB Chairman Mark Rosenker says the Lidle accident is typical of what the agency sees dozens of times a year. "It is probably the most common fatal accident type," he says.

The board's files are filled with examples of pilots getting into trouble in small planes because they weren't familiar with the aircraft, maneuvered too aggressively or lost control. Among them:

• Jeff Ellingham, 42, crashed his Globe GC-1B, a 1946-vintage aircraft, near Cypress, Texas, on Aug. 6, 2005, after allowing it to slow down too much, the NTSB ruled. Ellingham had flown for 639 hours, but only 120 hours in the Globe. Ellingham and his brother-in-law, David Hines, 43, died.

• Christopher Copple, 43, had logged 1,052 hours of experience piloting small planes over Alaska. When he agreed to fly three friends to a remote river for fishing, he borrowed a Cessna 170B, a slightly larger plane than he was accustomed to. The NTSB calculated that he had only 14 hours in the plane.

Investigators ruled that he was flying too slowly over a primitive landing strip on July 30, 2004. The plane rolled over and nosed into the ground, killing all four aboard.

• Gerald Miller, 60, had amassed 185 hours in the brief time he'd been a pilot but only 12 in his newly purchased Cirrus SR-22, a higher-performance version of the plane Lidle owned. He was flying with a flight instructor on Sept. 10, 2004, when the plane slowed to a dangerous speed and plummeted. The crash killed Miller and seriously injured his instructor.

Love of aviation

Lidle and Stanger, who lived near each other in Southern California, learned to fly over the hillsides east of Los Angeles. Lidle, 34, started flight training after the 2005 baseball season and picked Stanger, 26, who worked at Brackett Field in La Verne, Calif., as his teacher.

Stanger praised his student, telling The New York Times a month before the accident that Lidle had an uncommon ability to remain calm and do the right thing during simulated emergencies.

Stanger began working on planes as a teenager, worked his way up to fully certified mechanic and later earned a license to teach flying.

"I called him the airport rat," said Jason Paul, 23, who learned to fly under Stanger's tutelage and became his friend. "He did everything" — from changing oil to installing avionics, from teaching novices to flying big planes himself. "There wasn't anything in aviation he didn't do."

Paul and others say Stanger was a cautious pilot who emphasized safety checklists to his students and flew the same way himself.

"He was not your average Sunday flier," says Robin Howard, owner of Howard Aviation in La Verne, which had employed Stanger on and off since he was 17. "And he was good at it. I would not use someone who is not a good pilot."

Stanger had once flown the same route up the East River several years ago after buying a plane in the New York area, Paul says.

Aside from that earlier trip, Stanger had little or no experience flying in the New York area. Though he had accumulated thousands of hours in planes, he also apparently had few hours in the Cirrus, according to Howard. Lidle had a total of only 88 hours and was "pilot in command" for 47 of those, according to the NTSB.

Neither pilot had apparently completed the Cirrus-designed training program suggested by the manufacturer, says Cirrus Design CEO and co-founder Alan Klapmeier. The SR-20 is a faster plane than many of its counterparts of the same size and has some special safety features, including a parachute that could carry the plane and occupants down to safety in an emergency.

Lidle's and Stanger's final flight took off the afternoon of Oct. 11. Someone in the cockpit told an air traffic controller that they planned to fly in areas that don't require a flight plan, including the scenic East River corridor.

They had several factors working against them. A 15-mph wind was blowing out of the east as they flew up the river. On a typical U-turn to the left, that wind would push them toward Manhattan.

At the same time, radar showed they were traveling at 112 mph, according to the NTSB. That speed would require a relatively wide turn unless they banked far more steeply than normal.

If they banked aggressively at 30 degrees, the turn would have carried them hundreds of feet off course over Manhattan, according to Aerodynamics for Naval Aviators, a widely used aviation manual. The wind would have put them even more off course.

The problems could have been exacerbated by banking so steeply that the plane became difficult to control, the NTSB said.

Within seconds, the plane was surrounded by skyscrapers. It cleared two nearby buildings, but slammed into a third, The Belaire at 524 E. 72nd St.

 

This photo illustrates just how tight a turn Cory needed to make to extracate himself from a tight situation.

In the photo, North is at the bottom and Manhattan (West) is on the right.
The view is therefore southbound on the East River with the borough of Queens and nearby LaGuardia airport on the left (EAST), Roosevelt Island in the center and the aforementioned Manhattan Island on the right. The bridge in the background is the Queensboro bridge a.k.a. the 59th street bridge (of Simon & Garfunkle fame). Therefore East 72nd street is still North off the bottom of the photo but not by much.

The aircraft are over the West channel of the East River, just where Cory Lidle was although much higher.

There is NOT a lot of room to make a U-turn here!
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