Interesting and ironic enthusiasm. In my opinion, it must have felt like
attending a wake... :-(
And the Brits say we Americans don't get irony. You're right, Jay, it was
an ironic mix of emotions the whole day. No one knew whether to celebrate
or mourn. I got nothing of any substance done in the office from the
distraction of watching the last departure out the window to watching bits
on the news to witnessing the last landings and the final shutdowns in front
of the BA hangars. From a purely business perspective, I'm glad to see the
thing on the ground finally so it won't continue to drain cash out of the
corporate coffers and will no longer fuel petty division within the company
(the Concorde Flying Club, as it's always been called).
But this airplane was never about business. It was, and still is, about
national pride, technological victory, and, much like the space race, doing
something simply to prove that it can be done. Though it's older than most
other jets are when they retire from commercial service, it was the only one
for which everyone would go to the window to watch it take off or land and
people would check their watches to see if she got our most important
passengers away on time. But the affection the British people have for this
aircraft transcends any of those, and it is a mystique I've never fully
understood, though I myself have fallen under her spell. It happened in
August 01 when I'd only been with BA for a couple of months. I wandered
into the hangar one Friday afternoon and it was just me and Concorde alone.
OK, it sounds incredibly corny and I don't expect anyone to really
understand, but standing under her and looking at her up close, I was
smitten. From that perspective, today was an incredibly sad day. I tried
to compare it to the feeling people probably have when any aircraft retires
from service, be it civilian or military. I'm sure the people who flew and
maintained Mustangs mourned when the last one came out of active front line
service. The big difference here, though, is that when any other airplane
has retired, it's usually been replaced with something that does the same
job better. But Concorde's not being replaced by anything. It is the only
machine in the world that does what it does. It's not just the end of the
Concorde era, it's the end of civilian supersonic travel. That increases
the sense of loss, for lack of a better description, for the passing of the
era.
And on the point someone made about not wanting to be part of this bit of
the history, history happens and, if this was going to happen whether I was
there or not, I have to say I felt damned privileged to be one of only a
couple of hundred people in the world who got to see, hear, and feel what I
did today including the new experience of feeling the heat of her engines as
one of them maneuvered on the apron and turned her tail toward me. It was
good to see her go out on such a high note. Standing on the deck of the
building in which I work (a 10 story building with 8 floors of parking
garage in the middle), I was able to see the city of London including the
London Eye because the sky blessed us with uncharacteristic clarity, and
above that skyline I could see the forms of 3 Concordes bearing down on
their final touchdowns on Heathrow tarmac, looking exactly like the raptors
John described them as. As each one passed by on it's glide to the runway,
I made a special point of looking and listening with intent to experience
the moment as fully as possible.
Given a bit of time I could probably write this up a bit better; this is
very much off the cuff tonight, but this largely describes the essence of
the afternoon. I could go into detail of the events, but it's not really
about that. It's about the bigger meaning, the experience of presence, the
emotions involved. I barely even took any pictures as I didn't want to be
too distracted by fumbling with a camera. There'll be plenty of photos to
go around. I did, however, ring my mate, a lifelong Concorde fan, on the
mobile, so he could hear firsthand, the sound of Concorde's last landings at
Heathrow. (after all, what good is mobile phone technology if you can't use
it to share important events with people important to you?) Being able to
share that with a friend made it all the more special.
Going to work on Monday, I'll just be working for another airline, not a
supersonic airline. I'll never get to see Concorde sitting in the hangar or
out on the ramp again. I'll never hear her coming toward my apartment and
rush to the back window to watch her execute her departure turn through 180
degrees as she turns away from Heathrow and off toward Bristol and her
supersonic acceleration out over the Atlantic. I'll miss those things, but
I'm increcibly lucky to have experienced them at all. And, in the scheme of
things, this is small stuff. We have aircraft mechanics in our hangar who
built her and have only ever worked on her. Imagine the sense of loss
they're feeling as their entire working accomplishment in life ceases to be.
So I'll leave you with those sentimental thoughts, knowing that, as brother
pilots, you'll all understand.
Shawn
"Jay Honeck" wrote in message
news:Jxdmb.18714$Tr4.39348@attbi_s03...
Just got home from work and my ears are still ringing from standing next
to
12 Olympus turbojets at idle thrust as the last three Concordes taxiied
into
the BA Engineering base and shut down to be towed to the retirement
ceremony. This after standing on the 8th floor of the car park watching
them come in to land one after the other. An amazing site and such a
feeling of being part of history. There are days like this when I love
my
job!
Interesting and ironic enthusiasm. In my opinion, it must have felt like
attending a wake... :-(
Ah, another dream of my misspent youth dashed upon the rocks of reality...
Farewell, Concorde!
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"