My husband is the volunteer “boots on the ground” maintenance person at our little church. As such, he does the mowing, snow removal, light bulb replacing, leaf blowing, and flagpole upkeep. This week he had just remembered to raise the church flag to full staff after a month of mourning for the late President Jimmy Carter when he had to return the next day to again lower the flag to half-staff. He took on the latest task to commemorate lives lost in the aviation disaster in Washington, D.C.
As the nation comes to terms with the tragic loss of lives following the collision between an Army Blackhawk helicopter and an American Airlines flight originating from Wichita, the somber mood pervades our collective psyche. The devastating accident, which resulted in both aircraft crashing into the icy waters of the Potomac River, has left many of us with a profound sense of grief and mourning.
In addition to his flag-lowering duties, this loss of life is intensely personal to my husband, who has been an Army Guard instructor pilot and taken many a check ride like the one the three soldiers lost their lives in this week. When his daughter texted him with the notice of the unfolding news story, Wayne immediately turned to a 24-hour cable news network to watch the details. That night he even kept the television on until 1:30 a.m., through the first news conference.
Wayne has flown into Reagan National Airport frequently and remarked how difficult it is to land there, with so many lights from the city competing with runway lights. My resident retired pilot explained that if the helicopter crew had been on a night-vision goggle flight, it may have contributed to the accident. The goggles don’t allow full vision except in the dark.
The aviation disaster took a total of 67 lives this week. We are just now beginning to see photos and brief bios of the deceased. So many of them were just beginning their journeys to purposeful, fulfilling lives, making this incident even more tragic. We do indeed mourn these losses, and the flags in our public places remind us to honor them.
This tradition of flags flying at half-staff can be traced back to the 17th century. One of the earliest recorded instances occurred in 1612 when the crew of the British ship Heart’s Ease lowered their flag in memory of their lost captain, Sir William Cornwallis. The practice has since evolved, becoming a universal gesture of mourning and reverence for those who have passed. In the U.S., the practice became codified in 1954.
As we lower our flags and bow our heads, we remember the lives lost in this tragic accident. We pay tribute to their memory and acknowledge the bravery of the emergency responders who tirelessly worked to retrieve the victims’ bodies. In this time of national grief, the half-staff flags serve as a reminder of our shared humanity and the strength we find in unity during moments of profound loss.
Like other national disasters and half-staff moments, may we recall the names of the fallen, repeat them as often as possible, and look for the blessings and potential improvements in aviation safety that may arise from this collective anguish.