CONCORD, N.H. (AP) — A range of emotions – sorrow, joy, distress, guilt – have been experienced by Denise Lockie of Charlotte, North Carolina, in recent weeks. Memories of surviving a crash landing in a frigid river in New York resurfaced as a series of significant aviation accidents unfolded. Sixteen years after the “Miracle on the Hudson,” she and other survivors of aviation disasters are poised to provide assistance to those who have just emerged from their harrowing ordeal in Toronto on Monday.
“At this moment, they haven’t even fully grasped the gravity of what has occurred,” Lockie commented on the 80 passengers and crew members who survived after Delta Air Lines flight 4819 crashed and overturned at Pearson International Airport. Tragically, there were no survivors in the collision between a commercial jetliner and an Army helicopter in Washington, D.C. on Jan. 29, the medical transport plane crash in Philadelphia on Jan. 31, and the plane carrying 10 individuals that went down in Alaska on Feb. 6. However, in Toronto, not only did everyone survive, but the last of the injured were discharged from the hospital on Thursday.
“It’s remarkable,” remarked passenger Peter Carlson, who delivered a speech at a conference less than 48 hours after the crash. While he managed to inject some humor – “Nothing beats a good road trip other than an airplane crash” – he later confessed to struggling to leave his hotel room.
“I was deeply affected by the entire ordeal and just want to return home,” shared Carlson, the most recent addition to what retired flight attendant Sandy Purl refers to as a “grieving sisterhood and brotherhood.”
A Legacy of Survival
The Toronto crash on Monday wasn’t the first time lives were spared during a major aviation catastrophe there: In 2005, all 309 individuals on board Air France Flight 358 survived after it overshot the runway and ignited in flames. In Sioux City, Iowa, in 1989, 184 of the 296 passengers on United Airlines Flight 232 survived a crash, and in 1977, Purl was one of 22 survivors when Southern Airways Flight 242 lost both engines in a hailstorm and crashed in New Hope, Georgia. Sixty-three individuals on the plane perished, as well as nine on the ground.
“Immediately after surviving, you experience a sense of elation,” explained Purl, now 72. “But then you enter into a state known as psychic numbing, which shields you from all the thoughts that you are unable to confront for a long time, if ever.”
For over a year following the crash, Purl’s method was to escape whenever the disaster was mentioned. Eventually, she was admitted to a mental health facility where she disclosed to the staff, “I can’t stop crying.” A compassionate doctor held her hand and validated that
Others and reserve their rights to privacy. Paying it forward, Lockie is offering similar advice to those aboard the Toronto flight. She described being in a fog for about eight weeks after her crash, struggling to keep up with her corporate job as her injuries healed and being beset by nightmares and panic attacks. “Absolutely number one as far as I’m concerned is talking to somebody who can understand,” she said. “I think Delta is a fantastic airline and I’m sure their care team is fantastic, but then again, how many people on those care teams have actually been involved in an aviation incident?” Friends and family might urge survivors to move on with their lives, she said, but “it just doesn’t work that way.” “You might have fears that come out later on, and you really have to be able to deal with those,” she said. “So my recommendation is to take all the help you can possibly take.” It doesn’t take much to trigger memories. While Lockie said her experience hasn’t deterred her from flying often, it has shaped her behavior in other ways. When she enters a store or restaurant, for example, she always checks for the fastest way out. “You have to be able to calm yourself if there’s something that triggers your emotional aptitude,” she said. Purl, who returned to work as a flight attendant four years after the crash, said she can be triggered by the smell of gasoline or seeing news footage of other crashes. “I look at the TV and I see my crash,” she said. “I smell it. I taste it. I see the black smoke, and I can’t get through it. I feel the heat of the fire.” The Toronto survivors may find their experience exacerbates underlying traumas, she said. “Like the layers of an onion, you pull one back and there’s another layer underneath,” she said. Her advice: Live one day at a time, seek out people who offer unconditional love and talk, talk, talk. “And then find a way to make a difference as a result,” she said.
