Holding On

Greg Asimakoupoulos tells of a commuter flight from Portland, Maine, to Boston. The pilot, Henry Dempsey, heard an unusual noise near the rear of the small aircraft. He turned the controls over to his co-pilot and went back to investigate. As he reached the tail section, the plane hit an air pocket, and Dempsey was tossed against the rear door.

He quickly discovered the source of the mysterious noise. The rear door had not been properly latched prior to takeoff, and it flew open. He was instantly sucked out of the jet. The co-pilot, seeing the red light that indicated an open door, radioed the nearest airport, requesting permission to make an emergency landing.

He reported that the pilot had fallen out of the plane, and he requested a helicopter search of that area of the ocean. After the plane landed, they found Henry Dempsey-holding onto the outdoor ladder of the aircraft.

Somehow he had caught the ladder, held on for ten minutes as the plane flew 200 mph at an altitude of 4,000 feet, and then, at landing, kept his head from hitting the runway. It took airport personnel several minutes to pry Dempsey’s fingers from the ladder. “Things in life may feel turbulent,” said Asimakoupoulos, “and you may not feel like holding on. But have you considered the altemative?”