Inspirational Sunday - Flight 191

Today's inspirational Sunday is dedicated to the 271 people who were killed May 25, 1979 when the American Airlines Flight 191 crashed just after takeoff in an unincorporated area near some mobile homes I happened to be at that day.

I can't begin to explain my emotions or feelings of that day. There are images that I will never forget. For years I smelled the engine fuel burning. I was getting married in exactly 3 months and supposed to be dreaming of bridal showers and looking for apartments to live in after we married, etc. Instead for weeks, it was all I could do to get up every morning and go to work. Every time I passed O'Hare Airport, I remembered, but in reality, to this day I have never forgotten.

You would think that as a nurse I would be used to a lot. I rode ambulances where we used the shovel many times. I worked in the ER where I took care of the wounds of gang wars from knives and bullets. I have put my hand into the entire belly of someone who had been shot in the stomach. I have been thrown up on, bled on, and had people die when I was there. But nothing could have prepared me for that day.

As I said, I had been working as a patient care manager of a health care home nursing agency and was admitting a patient who lived in that mobile home park into our care. Living near O'Hare one is used to the sound of airplanes taking off and landing. The mobile home area is right next to the airport so that noise was even louder. But that day, it sounded like an airplane was coming at you. We went outside and watched as the airplane crashed into the ground near us. I went back inside and grabbed my bag and took off for the crash site (approximately 3 mobile home lots away from where I had been).

The heat from the burning was like being in a fiery blast furnace. There was lots of smoke and one could barely see anything. I didn't care. I wanted to help the survivors. Once I got to the scene, I soon realized that there would be no survivors. Firemen started arriving. One of them gave me a helmet and gloves and I threw on a mask I had in my bag. As soon as the fire was out, we started searching for bodies. I soon realized I didn't need my medical bag. We didn't find one body. Instead we found parts here and there. I was given flags and assigned to a fireman. Every time we saw a piece of a body we had to mark the site with a flag. Time passed. Floodlights were set up and we worked into the night.

I had someone call my fiancee to let him know I was okay and where I was. I honestly could not leave the site. I was sure there was someone - just one person we would find alive. I helped search the surrounding area. But it was eerily quiet with only the sounds of emergency equipment arriving and the sounds of airplanes continuing to take off or land. I remember ducking and covering my head when I heard the first one take off.

It was around midnight when I went back to where my car was parked and drove home. My fiancee was waiting for me. I couldn't talk. I couldn't even cry. I just sat in stunned silence taking what I had seen and done that day all in. My fiancee finally got me to get up and take a shower. He took a picture of me and when I looked at it a few weeks later, I never realized how dirty and sooty and greasy I actually was. It just felt good to have his arms around me. I finally fell asleep that night. It took me a few days to process what happened and to talk again. I was a walking zombie for those few days. Thankfully it was Memorial Day weekend and I had that time off to regain a sense of my position in life. I did return to work on Tuesday and yes, revisited the family near the crash site.

Thankfully, today there are federal disaster teams that work airline crashes and other large-scale catastrophes. None of that existed at the time of the crash of Flight 191 although I know there were a lot of people helping at the World Trade Centers. For every fireman there, there was 1-2 people like me who were helping. For years every time I passed the crash site, my memories of that day crashed in on me. For years I would wake up every time I heard an airplane overhead.

Exactly 3 months later I married the love of my life and we flew out of O'Hare for our honeymoon. I went from a person who was comfortable flying to a white knuckled flier for a year until I had children. I didn't want my fears to transfer to them so I learned breathing techniques to relax. But I never forgot.

Yesterday after 32 years, a memorial was finally held near the crash site. The memorial came into existence through the dedicated efforts of the 6th grade class at Decatur Classical School in Chicago that began in 2009. They took it on as a project after learning their assistant principal had lost her parents in the tragedy and finally got American Airlines to donate $21,000.00 for the memorial.

My thoughts today looking back on that day: I cannot imagine what the people aboard the flight thought when they realized they were crashing. Thankfully when they took off there was only 90 seconds to realize that. I don't know if they even saw it coming. For some reason, them not knowing gives me peace. Working that crash site gave me a sense of how fragile life is. But I still remember finding the jaw with some teeth on it, someone's tennis shoe, scattered pieces of luggage, and I still at times smell burning fuel. I will never forget that day but living through that day also makes me the type of person I am today. I am stronger for living and experiencing it.

The pictures noted above are not mine. They were taken by numerous reporters that day.