Retired pilot to tell of guiding crippled plane

On July 19, 1989, Denny Fitch was on board a DC-10, on his way from United Airlines' training center in Denver to Chicago, and then his home in Bartlett.

Fitch, then a DC-10 training officer and pilot for United Airlines, was a passenger on the flight when a malfunction occurred at 37,000 feet. An announcement followed: the plane had lost the No. 2 engine, and would be arriving in Chicago a few minutes late.

"Malfunction" is putting in mildly. In reality, the plane had lost all its hydraulics, and thus, its flight controls. Fitch worked with the flight crew to guide the crippled plane to Sioux City, Iowa. A total of 112 people died as the plane crash-landed and cartwheeled down the runway -- but 184 people survived.

Fitch will tell his story, and the life lessons learned as a result, at a dinner fundraiser Nov. 10 to benefit the Fox Valley Volunteer Hospice in Geneva. The event is at Eagle Brook Country Club in Geneva and is sponsored by the Welcome Club of the Fox Valley.

Tickets are $65 a person, with premium reserved tables for eight available for $480 and for 10 for $600. Live and silent auctions are part of the event, which begins with the silent auction at 6 p.m., followed by dinner and the keynote presentation by Fitch. He retired from United in 2002 and now is president of an aviation consulting firm and lives in St. Charles.

His is an incredible tale. Many, many readers will remember the news footage from that summer day, and may marvel that anyone escaped at all.

After the announcement of the engine failure, Fitch knew something was amiss from the plane's behavior. But he also knew that the simple loss of one engine was not a big problem. He said as much to one of the flight attendants, who seemed concerned. She told him the problem went far beyond the engine, that the plane had lost all its hydraulics.

"The plane had three separate hydraulic systems," Fitch said. "To have all of it go -- it's unbelievable. There's not a procedure in the book (to train for such an occurrence) because it was thought it would never happen."

Fitch's offer to help, via the flight attendant, was quickly accepted. "I went from passenger to a crew member. I became a fourth member, which is a unique situation."

Fitch came into the cockpit about 35 minutes before touchdown, knowing that in the previous 25 years, more than 1,200 people had died -- and no one had lived -- in situations where a plane had lost all controls.

"It was one of the worst scenarios you can dream of in aviation," he said. "We were desperately trying to figure out how to keep this aircraft up in the air, how to refine this methodology to have some chance of making a successful landing."

The story of those next 30 to 40 minutes is a story of cooperation, of working together toward a common -- in this case, life-or-death, -- goal. Fitch didn't know Capt. Al Haynes or the other crew members, yet they welcomed him and gave him, a stranger, "the only thing that was controlling this airplane, the throttles."

Haynes was extremely open to suggestions, Fitch said. "He'd say, 'You're the instructor. What are we missing? What can we do?'"

As they approached the airport, Fitch had to let go of the throttles for about 30 seconds so he could finally get strapped in for the landing. At that point it struck him, quite clearly, that he had 296 lives in his two hands. "It was the most profound, overwhelming feeling," he said.

The plane hit the ground at 250 mph, much faster than normal, and descended much more rapidly than normal. The aircraft split into pieces, with sections "rolling down the runway by themselves. There was a terrible noise, horrific noises of tearing metal. I can't put words to it."

The cockpit broke off, and wouldn't be discovered until sometime later, all four crew members injured and trapped in the wreckage. Fitch was on medical leave for 16 months, undergoing nine surgeries before being able to fly again, a feat many thought impossible.

And back in Bartlett, his wife and children waited with dear friends and neighbors. It was hours before they knew he had survived.

Fitch has gone through not only the horror of Flight 232, but also the incredible pain of losing his first wife to cancer. (He's remarried to Rosa.) Despite the pain of the past, he believes he is blessed in many ways. And he said his experiences have taught him many things.

He has two basic beliefs: "your attitude equals your altitude." And the second thing, simply put is, "You've got to believe to achieve. If you don't believe in yourself, you're doomed to your own failures.

"You are the captain of your ship," he said. Dreams are achievable he said, but you do have to work to make them happen.

Because worry accomplishes little, he's learned to let go, and not spend time in despair over things he cannot affect.

People can, however, affect their personal relationships. He asks, "Are you loving, are you telling the people you love that you do, by holding them, touching them, kissing them?

"When I got to the cockpit of 232, I saw the situation, I knew the survivability," he said. He thought to himself, "I'm going to die today, this is my time. It's too late to call, too late to write. The opportunities are gone to make it right."

In his case, he'd talked to his wife before the flight and exchanged "I love you's." He could say to himself, "God, you can take me. If I'm going to die, I'd just as soon be in an airplane.

"I was at peace," Fitch said, asking, "Is everybody else? How many people go to work angry with each other?" He's heard many sad stories from people who lived that latter situation.

"I had a foot in the grave and got it out," Fitch said. "Others can gain from the tuition I paid."

You could consider attending the dinner as part of that tuition -- and do good for a wonderful volunteer agency at the same time. For tickets, call Rosa at (630) 762-8202.