American Airlines Flight 191: The Crash That Killed 273 People
I watched this plane go down. We were riding BMX bikes in a field about 1/4 mile away. Very spooky.
I was about a 1/4 mile from this one............
On July 19, 1989, passengers aboard United Airlines Flight 232 were settling in for what should have been a routine trip from Denver to Chicago. At 37,000 feet, over the heartland of America, everything was calm.
Then the unthinkable happened.
At 3:16 PM, a loud bang shook the plane. The tail engine exploded, severing all three hydraulic lines. In an instant, the aircraft lost every control surface. No rudder. No ailerons. No elevators.
The DC-10 had become a 165-ton glider, spiraling through the sky.
At the controls sat Captain Al Haynes, a 57-year-old pilot with 33 years of experience. His instruments were useless. His controls were dead. Yet somehow, his voice over the radio remained calm.
"We have lost all hydraulics. We're trying to maintain control."
Haynes and his crew—First Officer Bill Records and Flight Engineer Dudley Dvorak—quickly realized they had only one option. They would use throttle power alone to steer.
Then something remarkable happened. Dennis "Denny" Fitch, a DC-10 training instructor who happened to be aboard as a passenger, heard the explosion and made his way to the cockpit.
"I'll help with anything I can," he offered.
Haynes welcomed him immediately. Together, they began a desperate ballet of coordination. Fitch positioned himself at the throttles, manually adjusting the two remaining engines—one speeding up, the other slowing down, over and over—just to keep the crippled jet level.
For 44 minutes, they fought the laws of physics.
Aviation experts later tried to replicate their feat in flight simulators. None succeeded. Most simulations ended with the plane plummeting from the sky. What Haynes and his crew accomplished should have been impossible.
As they approached Sioux City, Iowa, air traffic controllers cleared them for landing.
Haynes responded with characteristic dry wit: "You want to be particular and make it a runway, huh?"
Then, more seriously, he told passengers over the intercom: "Brace, brace, brace."
The DC-10 came in at nearly twice the normal landing speed. One wing dipped too low. The impact was catastrophic—the fuselage shattered, cartwheeling down the runway into a cornfield. Fire erupted.
When the smoke cleared, 112 people had died. But 184 had survived.
Aviation experts called it a miracle. A landing that defied every rule of aerodynamics. An outcome that should not have been possible.
When reporters called Haynes a hero, he refused.
"There is no hero," he said. "There are just a group of four people who did their job. It was an unusual circumstance, but we put our best resources and knowledge together and did what we thought was best."
He would spend the rest of his life deflecting praise, redirecting credit to his crew, the flight attendants, the passengers who followed instructions, the emergency responders, and the entire Sioux City community.
But aviation changed forever that day.
The crew's performance became a landmark case study in Crew Resource Management—a relatively new concept at the time that emphasized teamwork over individual authority in the cockpit. The FAA made CRM training mandatory after the accident.
Design changes were implemented in future aircraft to prevent all control systems from being destroyed simultaneously. Turbine manufacturing and inspection protocols were overhauled.
And Captain Haynes' voice—that steady calm in chaos—became required listening for pilots around the world.
After recovering from the crash, Haynes briefly returned to flying before mandatory retirement at age 60. He then dedicated himself to speaking about aviation safety, donating his fees to scholarships for children of crew members who died in the crash and for Sioux City students pursuing healthcare careers.
"That was because of all the special care we received from Sioux City," he explained.
For 30 years, survivors gathered annually to remember. Haynes attended faithfully, still refusing to accept the title of hero, still insisting it was about the team.
In July 2019, around 40 survivors met in Denver for the 30th anniversary. Haynes was noticeably absent—he was already in intensive care.
Captain Al Haynes passed away on August 25, 2019, at age 87, just six days before his 88th birthday.
United Airlines issued a statement: "We thank him for his exceptional efforts aboard Flight UA232."
Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger, who would later perform his own miracle landing on the Hudson River, tweeted: "He was the best kind of leader: brilliant, brave, composed, and unfailingly modest."
Years before his death, when asked how he stayed so calm during those 44 impossible minutes, Haynes offered wisdom that extended far beyond aviation:
"We had 103 years of flying experience in that cockpit, trying to get that airplane on the ground, not one minute of which we had actually practiced. But the preparation that paid off was something United started in 1980 called Crew Resource Management. Up until then, the captain was THE authority on the aircraft. What he said, goes. And we lost a few airplanes because of that. Sometimes the captain isn't as smart as we thought he was."
He believed five factors contributed to the survival rate that day: luck, communications, preparation, execution, and cooperation.
But perhaps his greatest legacy wasn't just saving 184 lives. It was teaching the world that leadership isn't about having all the answers or maintaining control at all costs.
Leadership is about recognizing when you need help. Welcoming expertise regardless of rank. Trusting your team when the impossible becomes necessary.
Captain Al Haynes' voice—that steady calm in chaos—still echoes through the skies.
It reminds us that true leadership isn't demonstrated when everything goes according to plan.
It's revealed when control is gone, when the situation is impossible, when survival depends on humility, teamwork, and the courage to keep trying when logic says you should fail.
He was just part of a team.
And that's exactly what made him a hero.
