Team Infidel
Forum Spin Doctor
St. Louis Post-Dispatch
December 27, 2007
Pg. 1
Major badly hurt in crash. 'I am a little concerned why a plane would break in half,' says Stephen Stilwell.
By Doug Moore, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
Only a few seconds earlier, Maj. Stephen Stilwell had been in the cockpit of an F-15, practicing a dogfighting maneuver with another fighter plane.
But now the Air National Guard pilot found himself on the ground, his left arm lifeless, but still attached. He was alive, but he didn't know how bad his injuries were.
He had managed to eject from the plane using just his right arm. The injuries to his left side happened as he was tossed about in the plane that eventually broke apart and crashed into a fireball 18,000 feet below him.
"I kept telling myself: 'I gotta get out, I gotta get out,'" Stilwell recounted on Wednesday, nearly eight weeks after the Nov. 2 crash in a remote area of Missouri's Dent County. "I found the ejection handle and I'm out."
The crash prompted the Air Force to ground about 450 of its older model F-15 fighters as it investigates what happened to Stilwell's plane. Cracks have been found in the main support beams behind the cockpits of eight other F-15s since then, and the Air Force is unsure if or when the planes will be back in service.
"I am a little concerned why a plane would break in half," Stilwell, 37, said.
The shortage of F-15s has forced some state Air National Guards to patrol larger areas. For example, the Illinois Air National Guard has been covering Louisiana. But military officials insist that air defense has not been compromised.
Stilwell, who grew up in Chillicothe, Mo., has been based at the 131st Fighter Wing at Lambert-St. Louis International Airport since 1999 and has worked as a commercial pilot for Southwest Airlines for the past 18 months.
Today, he says he's thankful to be alive, but uncertain of his future as he waits to see how his shoulder and arm heal.
Doctors put in a 10-inch metal plate to hold the broken bones together. He can move his fingers, but he says the pain is chronic.
Stilwell and another pilot flew their F-15s out of Lambert the morning of Nov. 2, to air space south of Rolla known as Lindbergh Military Operating Area. It's about 50 miles wide and 70 miles long.
The training exercise was routine - a quick offensive turn behind the other plane.
"I've done it a thousand times," Stilwell said.
But as he "pulled back on the stick," he felt the plane fishtail. He saw what looked like dust or a light mist inside the plane.
"My immediate reaction was to duck down and slow down," Stilwell said. Then, "it went berserk."
The plane was flying at about 500 miles per hour with a force of about 8Gs. He was thrown to the right, then the left. That's when his shoulder was broken into pieces. He knew he had to get out of the plane.
"I radioed, 'Knock it off,' which is the sign to get away from each other. Then I said 'Jesus,' and it was all mayhem."
After ejecting, he fell 4,000 feet before his parachute deployed. As he continued to descend, he could see the plane burning below. It had crashed away from houses and streets. He was relieved.
Looking down, all he saw were trees. He didn't want to land there. He looked up at his parachute. Only his right arm was helping guide it. His left arm was useless, hanging below his knees. He knew then he was injured. He saw a field but realized he couldn't guide the parachute with just one arm. He aimed for a small clearing. He knew he had to protect his damaged arm. He grabbed it with his good arm and tucked it to his waist.
As he lay on the ground, he began the assessment. He felt his head. No blood. Then his chest. No protruding bones. He wiggled his toes. Then he looked over at his left arm. It was still there, but the injury looked gruesome.
"I thought I had lost my arm," he said.
Stilwell remembers seeing a large white house while he was dropping to the ground. He began to yell for help. Eventually, three men came. He could tell by their faces that his arm must have been in bad shape. He wanted them to call his daughter, Hannah. But he didn't know her number. It was programmed into his cell phone, which he left at the office.
The men went for help, and a helicopter took Stilwell to Barnes-Jewish Hospital.
Stilwell says his recovery will help him determine his future, which was to include retiring from the military in five years.
He was planning to move to Chicago; he flies from there for Southwest.
For now, though, he is living with his parents in Chillicothe and spending more time with his daughter, who is 16.
"I'm going to hang out here," Stilwell said. "See where life takes me."
December 27, 2007
Pg. 1
Major badly hurt in crash. 'I am a little concerned why a plane would break in half,' says Stephen Stilwell.
By Doug Moore, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
Only a few seconds earlier, Maj. Stephen Stilwell had been in the cockpit of an F-15, practicing a dogfighting maneuver with another fighter plane.
But now the Air National Guard pilot found himself on the ground, his left arm lifeless, but still attached. He was alive, but he didn't know how bad his injuries were.
He had managed to eject from the plane using just his right arm. The injuries to his left side happened as he was tossed about in the plane that eventually broke apart and crashed into a fireball 18,000 feet below him.
"I kept telling myself: 'I gotta get out, I gotta get out,'" Stilwell recounted on Wednesday, nearly eight weeks after the Nov. 2 crash in a remote area of Missouri's Dent County. "I found the ejection handle and I'm out."
The crash prompted the Air Force to ground about 450 of its older model F-15 fighters as it investigates what happened to Stilwell's plane. Cracks have been found in the main support beams behind the cockpits of eight other F-15s since then, and the Air Force is unsure if or when the planes will be back in service.
"I am a little concerned why a plane would break in half," Stilwell, 37, said.
The shortage of F-15s has forced some state Air National Guards to patrol larger areas. For example, the Illinois Air National Guard has been covering Louisiana. But military officials insist that air defense has not been compromised.
Stilwell, who grew up in Chillicothe, Mo., has been based at the 131st Fighter Wing at Lambert-St. Louis International Airport since 1999 and has worked as a commercial pilot for Southwest Airlines for the past 18 months.
Today, he says he's thankful to be alive, but uncertain of his future as he waits to see how his shoulder and arm heal.
Doctors put in a 10-inch metal plate to hold the broken bones together. He can move his fingers, but he says the pain is chronic.
Stilwell and another pilot flew their F-15s out of Lambert the morning of Nov. 2, to air space south of Rolla known as Lindbergh Military Operating Area. It's about 50 miles wide and 70 miles long.
The training exercise was routine - a quick offensive turn behind the other plane.
"I've done it a thousand times," Stilwell said.
But as he "pulled back on the stick," he felt the plane fishtail. He saw what looked like dust or a light mist inside the plane.
"My immediate reaction was to duck down and slow down," Stilwell said. Then, "it went berserk."
The plane was flying at about 500 miles per hour with a force of about 8Gs. He was thrown to the right, then the left. That's when his shoulder was broken into pieces. He knew he had to get out of the plane.
"I radioed, 'Knock it off,' which is the sign to get away from each other. Then I said 'Jesus,' and it was all mayhem."
After ejecting, he fell 4,000 feet before his parachute deployed. As he continued to descend, he could see the plane burning below. It had crashed away from houses and streets. He was relieved.
Looking down, all he saw were trees. He didn't want to land there. He looked up at his parachute. Only his right arm was helping guide it. His left arm was useless, hanging below his knees. He knew then he was injured. He saw a field but realized he couldn't guide the parachute with just one arm. He aimed for a small clearing. He knew he had to protect his damaged arm. He grabbed it with his good arm and tucked it to his waist.
As he lay on the ground, he began the assessment. He felt his head. No blood. Then his chest. No protruding bones. He wiggled his toes. Then he looked over at his left arm. It was still there, but the injury looked gruesome.
"I thought I had lost my arm," he said.
Stilwell remembers seeing a large white house while he was dropping to the ground. He began to yell for help. Eventually, three men came. He could tell by their faces that his arm must have been in bad shape. He wanted them to call his daughter, Hannah. But he didn't know her number. It was programmed into his cell phone, which he left at the office.
The men went for help, and a helicopter took Stilwell to Barnes-Jewish Hospital.
Stilwell says his recovery will help him determine his future, which was to include retiring from the military in five years.
He was planning to move to Chicago; he flies from there for Southwest.
For now, though, he is living with his parents in Chillicothe and spending more time with his daughter, who is 16.
"I'm going to hang out here," Stilwell said. "See where life takes me."