Stormy Day at Meigs Field

Author: Jon M.

This is the tale of three very harrowed pilots I happened to see landing consecutively yesterday in weather conditions that I can only describe to you as adverse, to say the least.  I was in Chicago for the last three days visiting family.  Yesterday I ate lunch with a cousin of mine who lives downtown, and his apartment happens to have a spectacular view of the world-renowned Meigs Field, in full swing since it was no longer going to be closed.  In the late afternoon, a particularly menacing thunderstorm (or 2) began to roll into town.  I didn't see much of a change in activity at first, because it was rather high and visibility was still acceptable, but as the afternoon wore on, things started to get darker.  These pilots may have been VFR only, but they were determined not to let nature ruin their afternoon, so they kept going at almost the rate they were at before.  When lightning began to strike, however, there was an immediate halt in activity on the ground at Meigs.  Takeoffs ceased, and anyone in the pattern or closer to Meigs than anywhere else landed hastily.  The winds were from the south, and they looked to be pretty fearsome based on the airplanes I had seen, and now the conditions on Lake Michigan.  Not a great day for VFR fun at Meigs. It got to that all-familiar point where you know that torrential rain is imminent, but it is not yet falling.  I really wish I had been listening to Meigs tower at that point, because it was then that I saw three airplanes fighting earnestly to get to the ground.  The first was a Lear 35, and it looked none to happy to test the limits of its brakes, seeing as it is already harder to land that short than the Skyhawks that populate that field, and now the runway was damp, the winds were high, and it was coming in fast to get on the ground and shut down before the rain began.  It turned a shorter final than I have ever seen a jet pull off, and wobbled its way down, bucking in the 15 kt. winds. Next in line was a Baron flown by someone who seemed to have a lot of experience in the airplane.  I don’t think he or she was too worried about the oncoming storm.  The Baron continued a long, leisurely downwind, turned a quick base as is necessary so close to downtown Chicago, and then turned final far, far north of where I would have done it.  It rolled out leisurely and slowed considerably.  I figured this pilot must be insane.  This approach was being flown as if there wasn’t a cloud in the sky!  That’s when I saw the poor, terrified Skylane pilot roll out on final behind the Baron.  It was quite apparent that this pilot was not as relaxed as the one in front of him.  As the sky grew ever darker, I watched as the Skylane began to gain on the Baron as his haste to land increased.  The Baron touched down with only the slightest bump and turned off quickly, but the Skylane pilot was not going to have the same luck.  The Skylane was being blown back and forth by the increasing wind, and kept drifting high, then low, and then high again.  After what seemed like an eternity, the poor little airplane finally crossed the threshold, but even then the pilot just couldn’t seem to get down.  I heard the power drop, the pilot flared, and the bird sat at about 20 feet, climbed slightly, descended a little, and then continued to sit.  With runway running out, the pilot gave up.  He retracted all flaps, and the airplane dropped the remaining 20 feet and hit hard.  I could just imagine the pilot's calves straining as he stepped on the brakes with all his might.  Finally, with maybe 30 feet of runway left, the airplane jerked to a stop, and I let go of my breath at the same moment the pilot did.  What a ride. Let this be a lesson to all of us.  Never lose your determination.  Never abandon hope.  Never fly a Cessna on days where the forecast says “thunderstorms extremely likely!”

Meigs Field