Air Ambulance Pilot Demonstrates How Deadly Distraction Can Be

The pilot of an emergency medical helicopter was text messaging before and during the flight that ended in disaster near an airport in Mosby, Missouri in 2011. His actions and his distraction were cited as contributing factors in the crash that killed four people on board an Air Methods helicopter in August 2011, the National Transportation Safety Board said today. 

Air Methods, You Just Don't DO That.

The Arabic word "haraam" is such an expressive word because it means two things; that something is forbidden and an activity is shocking. Haraam is the word that comes to my mind with the latest development in the plan to operate a helipad atop Children's Memorial Hospital located on Chicago's Lake Michigan.

In the world of aviation, it is a article of faith that all employees must feel free to speak up about safety. So important is the concept that around the world, workers are encouraged to submit confidential or anonymous safety reports - even about their own mistakes - because with safety, you can't fix what you don't know is broken.

Here is where the behemoth air ambulance company, Air Methods apparently took the fork in the road that separates those that wanna be safe from those that don't, according to a news report on ABC Channel 7 in Chicago. In the story, Ravi Baichwal, reports that an unsigned "whistle-blower" letter was sent to the neighborhood group opposing the helipad claiming that pilots who fly into the present ground-based landing zone for Children's Hospital in nearby Lincoln Park, have complained about operating risks at the high rise. But their concerns have been ignored. Further, they were prohibited from "discussing the subject with anyone" the letter says.

I have little doubt that back in the day when the hospital first conceived of the plan to bring helicopters onto their rooftop, 411 feet in the air, in a canyon of high rise buildings commercial and residential, that it had no idea it would be fighting with the neighbors for years. But fight they have as nearly every claim the hospital made about the benefits was challenged by nearby residents concerned about the risks.

The case got quite complicated. Scientists, engineers and meteorologists were hired by both sides.  (Full disclosure: in 2008, the neighborhood group paid for a data search on the Comprehensive Medical Aviation Safety Database in which I have an interest.)

In a battle pitching expert against expert on subjects as dense as atmospheric boundary layers, vorticity isosurfaces and approach path trajectories, it's hard for the general public to know who is right and who is wrong.

But when the very airmen who will be required to fly say the plan is bad, because there is "nowhere to safely land in an emergency" or that "their helicopter does not have the power to successfully fly away on one engine because of the nearness of surrounding buildings" that makes it pretty clear.

So you can see why these people might be under pressure to keep quiet though to their credit, they have not. Instead, the unsigned letter was sent to Streeterville Organization of Active Residents, the neighbors opposing the helipad, a modern-day David fighting two Goliaths; a prestigious hospital and Air Methods Corporation, the nation's largest provider of air medical transport. The letter arrived just as the slingshot-armed-upstart was nearing the bottom of the bag of rocks.

And now, the inspector general of the Department of Transportation has opened an investigation into whether either the Colorado-based and publicly traded Air Methods or the hospital tried to shush those who had something to say about safety.

Of all the things helicopter ambulance companies and their enablers have done in the past decade to turn ostensibly life-saving medical transport into the for-profit multi-billion dollar, over-used and under-regulated sham that it is today, the decision to fight so hard for this location in Chicago seems uniquely arrogant and reckless. But if the inspector general finds that workers were indeed told to shut up about safety that's even worse, that would be haraam.

And the (woomph, woomph, woomph) Beat Goes On

Photo from Illinois DOT documents

Chicagoans, be prepared for the woomph, woomph, woomph of helicopter blades comin' in from over Lake Michigan once the Children's Memorial Hospital places a helipad on its roof, 411 feet above the street.  At the end of last week, the Illinois Department of Transportation issued permission for the hospital to locate the high altitude helipad in a community of skyscrapers, community and concerned activists be damned. 

It may be noisy, it may cause the values of million dollar properties on Chicago's Miracle Mile to decline but that's not the issue as far as I'm concerned. It's the safety stupid!

When a Patient Dies, It's a Different Story

Read the update on this story by clicking here.

There's a frightening sameness to the accidents that continue to plague the helicopter ambulance industry, but the crash that killed 58-year old Terry Tacoronte in in Missouri last Friday is notably different. Tacoronte, of McFall, Missouri was a patient, and though there have been 19 helicopter ambulance accidents in since 2009, this is the first time a patient has been killed since October 2008 when the toddler, Kirstin Reann Blockinger died in a crash in suburban Chicago.

Helicopter Ambulances - The better-safe-than-sorry scare tactic

The grounding of Airbus A380 airplanes sporting Rolls Royce Trent 900 engines was certainly warranted following the in-flight disintegration of an engine on a Qantas flight from Singapore. But what has made global news for more than a week now, also demonstrates a dramatic disparity in aviation safety. The Airbus near-disaster is being treated with tremendous respect. 

Yet, across the United States, another sector of the aviation industry is crashing aircraft at a rate equal to an airline disaster every day and unbelievably, this carnage is accepted as the cost of doing business.

I'm talking about business of medical transport and the price paid by patients who are moved by air.

Following the Money in Air Ambulance Services

I have more news on the underpinnings of the helicopter ambulance industry. Over the past five years I’ve been focused on the aviation side, the operational stresses that cause emergency medical aviation to be the most dangerous kind of commercial transport in America. You can read more about my work with Patrick Veillette on that subject here.

Art imitates life in the not-so-hilarious-world of EMS helicopters

So when my son walks into my office and sees me in front of my computer watching an animated short film, I can’t expect him to believe me when I say, "Really honey, mommy's working."

Animated stories of the FREEWAY PATROL

In fact, I was working, watching this You Tube video sent to me by a gentleman in Texas who found himself in practically this same situation, the latest victim of an epidemic of overuse of medical helicopters.  

Please Don't Call Them Heroes

Please don’t call them “heroes” or “fallen angels” or any of that other pap. Last night, pilot Allan Dale Harrison and flight nurse Ryan Duke were killed in the crash of an air ambulance in Kingfisher, Oklahoma. Their flight paramedic was injured.

EMS helicopter pilot worries; "If they knew what I knew, even the nurse and paramedic wouldn't get on board."

The crash Thursday morning of an emergency medical helicopter in Tennessee is another tragic reminder of the crisis in medical aviation. Three people were killed when a Eurocopter AS350 operated by Hospital Wing crashed near Brownsville, Tennessee after delivering a patient in Jackson. While the crash happened shortly before 7:00 a.m., the bulk of the flight occurred during what is considered "the backside of the clock" the hours between ten p.m. and six a.m.. This is the most dangerous time to fly by helicopter medivac. Nearly half of all the EMS helicopter crashes take place on the backside of the clock.