Dave was a helicopter pilot from the Vietnam era — which is to say Dave has flown through scenarios that would scare the tar out of me. Repeatedly.
Along the way he learned to be a highly proficient pilot with nerves of steel and a head full of nuanced information that served him well over the long haul.
My first experiences flying helicopters came with Dave by my side. He was a patient instructor and a darned good stick. Calm, hyper-aware of his surroundings, and not without a bit of mischief in his soul, Dave made each of the few flights we did together a truly educational experience.
While flying along one brisk morning, our conversation shifted to our earliest aerial exploits. I asked Dave if flying helicopters at low level over a jungle filled with people who were trying to kill him was stressful. The answer seemed obvious to me. I mean, there were bullets flying and explosions occurring. It must have been a horrendous day-to-day grind.
Dave pointed out how wrong I was in the kindest, most supportive way. No, Dave wasn’t freaked out by flying helicopters low over the jungle canopy while soldiers below shot at him. He acknowledged he didn’t care for sitting in a landing zone while bullets pinged off his ride home. But he wasn’t all in a tizzy about it on a daily basis.
“I always believed I’d be okay,” Dave said. “It was the other guy who was in trouble.”
This perspective surprised me. As I considered his position I wondered that perhaps the passage of time had moderated the sense of fear my friend harbored in those moments. It was at least possible a bit of false bravado was at play in his recollections, too.
“Of course, I was young and dumb then. I was at as much risk as anyone. I just didn’t see it that way. So it didn’t worry me.”
That wasn’t the color commentary I expected. Not by a long shot. Here we were blazing along over the New England countryside in a Bell Jet Ranger with all the comforts of a modern civilian aircraft at our fingertips, and my mentor was admitting that he’d started out as a relatively stupid kid with questionable judgment.
That made him pretty much the same as me. I was no prize when I started in this business, either. And I was on a thoroughly civilian path. Nobody was shooting at me. My biggest risk was losing focus on the student sitting in the left seat.
Our students really are trying to kill us. Not out of malice or in response to a personal affront. No, they’re using their lack of experience, poor judgment, and an almost limitless quantity of ignorance to put us into an unrecoverable situation. Most of the time they’re doing reasonably well. They’re certainly trying. But every now and then…
Dave’s misplaced belief that he was safe simply because it was the other guy who was at risk got me thinking. Over time I distilled his peculiar perspective into what I can best describe as The Other Guy Syndrome.
Incident and accident reports tend to bear out my belief that far too many of us suffer from this unfortunate malady. We are not on guard to the degree we should be, even knowing that our personal safety hangs in the balance. We slide into complacency with remarkable ease.
Consider these examples.
November 2024 — N7501M
The pilot of a Cessna 175 attempted to takeoff from a road. The airplane encountered rough terrain and vegetation, which resulted in a collapse of the nose gear and subsequent inversion of the airplane. The four people on board suffered minor injuries. The aircraft was not so fortunate.
November 2024 — N2933N
While providing instruction for a tailwheel endorsement, the Cessna 140 lost directional control following a three-point landing. The CFI attempted to correct using differential braking. The tail rose up and over, causing the airplane to come to rest upside down on the runway.
The student pilot was unsure if he had pulled his feet back from the rudder pedals and brakes when the CFI took control. The airplane came away worse for the experience.
December 2024 — N5321Q
This instructional cross-country flight ended poorly after the engine lost power en route. The pilot reported he’d fueled the airplane sufficiently to give him 5.5 hours of flight time. The investigation revealed approximately one tablespoon of fuel at each drain point. The airplane was seriously damaged.
Please take note these three accidents all took place within weeks of one another. They are not aberrations. Accidents like these are neither rare nor unavoidable.
Taking off from a road is not impossible. But having sufficient space and positive control of the aircraft is essential in order to do so sagely and successfully.
Tailwheel instruction requires careful planning and a thorough understanding on the part of the student that, in times of trouble, the CFI must be given full control of the aircraft. There is no time to dawdle when removing hands and feet from the controls. A simple pre-flight verbal instruction on this point should be standard.
A Cessna 150 burns approximately 6 gallons per hour in cruise flight when properly leaned. To have 5.5 hours of endurance it would require at least 33 gallons of fuel. There is a long-range tank option that might allow for that, but it is hard to believe the weight and balance would work out for that much fuel as well as a CFI and student on board.
Three viable aircraft were heavily damaged. Pilots and passengers were put at risk. Insurance claims undoubtedly affected the rates we all pay.
And for what? No problems were solved. No time was saved. No predictable risks were avoided.
Believing a bad thing will happen to the other guy, but not to us, is folly. The bad thing is ever present. It occurs because of insufficient planning, rushed procedures, ignoring warning signs, or just plain laziness. Worst of all, it can happen to any of us — including you and me.
For the good of us all, and most especially for the good of ourselves, we should dispense with the other guy syndrome for good. Take the time to plan, to consider options, and to cancel if that’s the smart move. Or just land to take on additional fuel now and then.
It’s so much cheaper and safer in the long run to behave as if the other guy is us.
Great article. The most impactful statement was “and for what? No problems were solved. No time was saved. No predictable risks were avoided.”
I’m sharing this article.
I just read an accident report where a 17,000 hour CFI and his student were killed on take off. The NTSB report found the cause was a broken left aileron cable. It was a low altitude situation and the eye witness said the aircraft rolled to the right and crashed with the engine at full power!
I would like to know why the aircraft rolled to the right and crashed, but the report from the NTSB mentions nothing. The FAA mentions nothing and if it ever happens again could there have been something, anything..The 17,000 hour instructor could have done?
What good is an investigation by the NTSB and FAA if there was no mention of a probable cause or actual cause other the a cable broke…..?
Looking at the diagram in the article, there are 3 cables in the aileron system ; 2 direct cables, 2 from the yoke to each of the ailerons and one interconnect, between the ailerons.
All 3 cables are under tension, so if the tension is lost in one cable, the others will ‘pull’ on the aileron bell-cranks..
With a direct cable losing tension, the other direct cable will pull the ailerons to full deflection, with no pilot control., so the aircraft will roll. I don’t think that the rudder would have enough authority to level the wings with yaw.?
The cables are all easily inspected, with removing the inspection covers in the floor, the wings and removing the door post covers, and unzipping the headliner.
I do this every year on my Cessna, and do the ‘drag a kleenex’ across the cables, near the pulleys. This is an easy way to detect a broken strand .
There is no reason that an inspection should have left this condition unrepaired.
“Looking at the diagram in the article….”
What “diagram”?
It was a May 02 article here…
https://generalaviationnews.com/2025/05/02/corroded-aileron-cable-proves-fatal-for-cfi-and-student/
The singing group Kansas sang it well in their song “Dust in the Wind.” “All your money won’t another minute buy. Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.” Alas.
Regards/J
Add some carbon compounds and some water….and you get people.
After we die, we will return to being ‘dust in the wind’.
In the meantime, we must be vigilant on the status of every part on our aircraft, and ourselves.!!!
I learned to fly in 1972 between my junior and senior year in high school. I took lessons at a very small local airport. The runway was paved 2,200’ long and 50’ wide. The taxiways were nothing more than a gravel road. There were no runway markings, no runway lights, and no taxi lights. Approaches were steep and short. It was said, if you learned to fly at this airport one could fly just about anywhere.
My girlfriend at the time had a friend who was dating this guy who also learned to fly at this airport. He had bought himself a used Piper 140. He got this idea he could land at night there if a friend parked a car at the end of the runway with the lights on bright shining down the runway. He came down thinking he was aligned with the runway when in fact is was lined up over the grass on the east side of the runway where there was a fence line and a road. He touched down, lost control, and struck the fence with the left wing. The plane came to a rest with a mangled left wing.
He was telling me this story when he turned to me and said, mark my word, this will happen to you one day. It’s a certainty. I was at an impressionable period in my flying. I thought hard and fast about do I really want something like that to happen to me? OK, 52 years later I have never had an accident or incident of any kind. I still have time but ……. I thank this young man for making me a safer pilot. I learned a lot about risk management, preplanning, and safe execution.
Yeah, we need to be eternally vigilant, but being competent and thorough won’t always protect us. All of the examples Jamie gave could have been ameliorated if the pilots had been more careful or thorough in their preparations. Sadly, that isn’t always enough. Environmental conditions can change in a heartbeat, and those conditions can suddenly take control of the situation in ways the pilot can’t correct. I suffered from such a situation back when I was flying hang gliders. I was coming in to land when a dust devil broke out right in front of me. Instantly, the dust devil was in charge of my flight. I was sucked up and tumbled. All I could do was wait until the nightmare stopped on it’s own. When I was dumped on the ground, the impact broke 2 spars and my flight arm. Yes, we should all strive to be vigilant and constantly improve our skill and knowledge, but even the most competent and careful pilot is still at risk of injury and damage to their flying machine by forces outside on their control. Flying is inherently more dangerous than many other pursuits. Each time we take off or launch, we have to decide if the risk is worth the reward. For me, the answer is still yes, but I have become more cautious about choosing my flight conditions. I know some might suggest that flying a hang glider when there is convective activity was reckless, but soaring requires that convective motion to be possible. I had been aloft for several hours enjoying thermal lift before coming in to land. The odds of colliding with a dust devil on short final were small, but not zero. There are risks associated with every flight. We need to do all we can to mitigate those risks, but the risk is never zero.
This piece is a great service to our community. Thank you.
Danger is always lurking out there….