The next several minutes would impact us remaining crew members for the rest of our lives.
After helping unload the baby and the hospital’s team members, Paramedic Bill Yoch rejoined me, sitting in the left front crew seat. I obviously sat in the pilot’s seat and after a normal run-up and before takeoff checks, we left the hospital helipad. As we headed back to our home base at the St. Paul airport (KSTP), all appeared normal as I climbed the Bell 222 helicopter up to 1,000 feet above the ground and headed east. Thoughts of missing lunch due to the two morning flights dominated our minds as we flew towards the airport, just a short five-minute flight away. Until a sudden but slight metal-to-metal “tick” sound was heard and felt, all looked routine. This would be the first and only warning I would receive of the pending mayhem that faced us.
Captain Geoff Presson, an off-duty airline pilot from Rochester, New York, was doing his normal afternoon jog along the walkway of the Smith Avenue High Bridge in downtown St. Paul. He heard an approaching helicopter and glanced up to see us just as we turned the downwind leg for the landing at St. Paul. A sudden loud engine surge and the subsequent backwards loop of the helicopter stopped him dead in his tracks. He glanced at his watch and believed he was about to witness a fatal helicopter accident.
After the tick sound, Bill looked over at me and asked, “What the hell was that?” We heard a momentary engine surge simultaneously with the sound. I looked over everything available to me to verify systems and all appeared normal. I saw no indication of trouble on the multitude of gauges and warning lights before me. I momentarily thought of continuing the flight in an attempt to troubleshoot the issue. As I looked over to my right, with the downtown St. Paul Airport so close, I quickly abandoned that plan. Instead, heading back to my waiting mechanic seemed the more prudent idea. I had already contacted the tower for landing clearance and keyed the mic again to announce the state capitol, a routine visual checkpoint that tower had requested us to announce as our arrival in their traffic pattern. “St. Paul tower, helicopter 225LL is the state capitol for bravo taxiway.” Tower acknowledged us and cleared us to land. After the right turn to the downwind, I again keyed the mic. But before I could get the words out to read back their landing clearance, I heard and felt that weird tick sound again. Immediately after that and to my horror, the cyclic stick between my legs suddenly went hard over to the full-aft position, dead solid and frozen.
St. Paul Tower Controller Robert Olson had glanced my way as I turned downwind after announcing the capitol. Suddenly he heard a person screaming on the radio. He looked back at where he thought we should be and saw nothing. Unable to see us, and after repeated attempts at contacting us went unanswered, he queried a Minnesota State Patrol helicopter in the area to look for us. The screams continued over their radio frequency.
I was the scream heard on that radio. The sudden pitch up and inability to move any of the flight controls began the ultimate fight of my life and wouldn’t end for some 90 seconds, according to Captain Presson’s watch.
rotorcraftpro.com
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