A FedEx Christmas

By Captain Mark W. Danielson

’Twas the week before Christmas and all through the hub,
the sorters were sorting, not one single flub.
They stuffed boxes in demis, all loaded with care,
in hopes that their pilots would soon fly them there.
The presents were nestled all snug in their cases,
while loaders slid them to all the right places.
Then my first officer walked with me to his side,
climbed the stairs to prepare for a long winter flight.
When out on the ramp I heard such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what’s the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
looked out just in time to see the near crash.
The moon on the breast of new-fallen snow,
gave the luster of mid-day to the objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
a pilot from management not wearing flight gear.
With little old eyes, so nervous and quick,
I knew in a moment someone must have been sick.
More rapid than eagles, more pilots came.
But not enough pilots, he called us by name.
Now Dusty, now Scooter, now Gator and Oddie!
On Blazer, on Bear, on Trapper, and Hoggie!
To the top of your stairs, to the flight decks you all,
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Regardless of obstacles, we took to the sky.
From snow-covered runways, those cargo planes flew,
with cabins full of toys, and St Nicholas, too.
And then with a twinkling, my wheels soon touched down.
A few more minutes and we’ll be on the ground.
Soon a flurry of loaders converged on the plane.
And fuelers and mechanics all doing the same.
While bundles of toys rode their way down,
several safety observers all stood around.
Workers’ cheeks were like roses,
their noses like cherries.
Many in Santa hats, nearly all seemed quite merry.
Some beards were all white and covered in snow,
but no one complained, only hours to go.
One had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when she laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
She was chubby and plump, a right jolly old gal,
I smiled when I saw her, in spite of myself.
A wink of her eye and a twist of her hand,
her bus door opened, I had nothing to dread.
She spoke not a word, but took us straight to the door.
As soon as we’re off, she went back to get more.
In three hours we were back in our seats,
the process done over, we’re not done with our feat.
Hundreds of planes soon took to the air,
all sure to deliver their boxes with care.
Through our smart phones, the chief pilot said,
another sort down, now go find your beds.
Merry Christmas from all who deliver your presents.

It Was Bound to Happen

By Mark W. Danielson

Recently, a bomb was discovered on a cargo plane bound for Chicago. Whether this bomb was intended to explode en route or at its Jewish destination is a moot point. Either way, this scenario was inevitable.

Many years ago, I wrote about a similar situation in my fictional thriller Danger Within. As a cargo pilot, this story stemmed from my cargo safety concerns following an actual in-flight fire aboard a FedEx DC-10 caused by undeclared hazardous material. Later in my story, a bomb sends another cargo jet into the ocean. And when divers fin their way down to investigate, men die. No one expected it was a time bomb. Danger Within is a wild ride, but also a realistic one. And while cargo screening has improved since this book was published, our system still has holes. No doubt, security authorities are seeking ways to plug them.

But there is another problem associated with this failed bombing. Fear. Of course, fear is to be expected. Who wouldn’t be concerned about falling debris from blown-up airplanes? But the reality is the odds still favor an airplane’s safe arrival over your journey home from the airport. After climbing into your vehicle, you will now face texting drivers, drunk drivers, angry drivers, smoking drivers, drivers applying makeup or shaving, car jacking, and even snipers, and yet we accept these risks without a fleeting thought because we expect auto accidents. Fear is only effective if the outcome was unexpected. The objective of terrorism is for fear to override logic. That’s the terror behind terrorism. I’m not a fatalist, but I do believe that when my time is up, there won’t be a thing I can do about it. I also know that if I truly considered what might be in the 180,000 pounds of cargo I’m supposed to fly back from overseas, I would never climb into the cockpit and start the engines.

Sadly, the people responsible for this latest bomb event “won” even though their bomb never exploded. In fact, because it didn’t explode, this story will receive more attention than it would have had the cargo plane exploded and been lost at sea. The recent UPS Boeing 747 crash in Dubai from an in-flight fire confirmed that killing a couple of cargo pilots was barely newsworthy, and yet the fear of airliners carrying in-flight bombs will last for weeks. Even worse, the government now has to divert millions of dollars earmarked for other projects to further enhance cargo screening.

Writers are influenced by events, but can also influence events. I stopped writing one terrorism book because it contained too much sensitive information, and I don’t need to create scenarios for those willing to harm us. On the other hand, it’s important to keep everything in perspective as we live our lives. We haven’t gone back to the Dark Ages yet. Keeping our eyes open, our heads on a swivel, and our fear in check will ensure we never get there.