Flying a Full Circle
By Pete Shirk
Air racing is a high-risk game but all the safety precautions and care usually keep it safe. Sometimes the best intentions are just not enough, and that happened in a horrible way on Friday, Sept. 16, 2011.
Jimmy Leeward, a veteran pilot and air racer, had taken all the precautions, and yet on lap three of the Gold Race, coming off pylon eight on the west end of the course and heading down the home stretch in front of the flight line, crowd, bleachers, VIP tents, trailers, food and beverage concessions, FAA trailer, and control tower, all the care, safety precautions, experience and expertise gave way to catastrophe.
As it came into the home stretch, Race 177 drifted outward from the course racing line, toward the ramp and crowd. While passing the pit area, a relatively small but critical part came off, the aircraft violently pitched up into a climb, half-rolled to the right at the top, turned 90 degrees back toward the race course, and dove almost straight down impacting the ground in the box seating area H3. The explosive force of the impact killed 11 and injured 70. (As of this writing, 9/21/11, final casualty figures are not known but two people remain missing.)
The pilot was highly experienced and the aircraft had a long air racing history. In fact it had raced at the final Cleveland Air Races in 1949 when another racer hit a pylon killing two on the ground as well as the pilot.
But the Galloping Ghost had more history than just Cleveland, and when Unlimited Air Racing resumed in Reno this aircraft returned as Race 69, owned and flown by Dr. Cliff Cummins, a Southern California radiologist. The airplane was competitive and well-flown, but in1970 during the Silver race on Friday in the fourth lap, Race 69 which had moved from fifth place passing Clay Lacy and heading for Lyle Shelton leading in Grumman Bearcat Race 77, Cliff’s engine blew. He pulled up for a dead-stick landing on runway 26 but was not able to get the altitude and distance worked out, and crash-landed into Lemon Valley to the east of Stead. Cliff walked away but the airplane was significantly damaged. After a rebuild it was raced again, went through a succession of owners, and went into storage in 1989. It re-emerged at Reno again in 2009 in the hands of Jimmy Leeward.
In addition to Galloping Ghost’s Cleveland racing experience, the further irony of the 2011 Reno Air Races is the entry of an ultra-rare F2G Corsair. Race 74 (NX5577N), which also ran at Cleveland in 1949.
Leeward had qualified well at 466 mph. In the Gold Race on Friday at the start he was several airplanes back from the lead, but beginning to overtake other aircraft. On the beginning of the third lap, the accident struck quickly.
One of the startling things about this 2011 accident is how it unfolded. He was running side-by-side with Race 11 (Miss America). When coming off pylon eight he started to drift away from the race line and was heading for the home stretch in front of the stands when the violent pitch-up occurred.
Now it is known that Leeward’s aircraft lost the left elevator trim tab. That is a relatively small piece (approximately 6” x 30”) on the trailing edge of the elevator. Its function is to modify the effect of the elevator which controls up/down, which means it is important – but intuitively, losing it does not sound as drastic as losing an entire control surface like an aileron or an entire elevator. But apparently it is almost that bad.
A similar previous incident illustrated how. In 1998 Bob Button of Winters, Calif. had thoroughly prepared his Race 5, Voodoo, in a real bid to win the Reno Unlimited class. Voodoo had been the top qualifier in the unlimited class at a 452.55 mph average.
The pilot, Bob Hannah was leading another very competitive entrant, Dago Red in a preliminary heat race on Saturday. As with Jimmy Leeward, the left elevator trim tab came off the elevator at racing speed. Voodoo pitched up so violently that pilot Hannah was subjected to 10 Gs of acceleration force, causing him to lose consciousness. When Hannah regained consciousness he found himself at 9,000 feet. He was able to regain control and recover to a safe landing, but trim tabs had made their point in the most graphic manner.
These WWII fighter aircraft are highly engineered and well-built war planes. They are not delicate or fragile, and many times brought their pilots home despite major damage. And yet shedding a trim tab at 460 mph apparently so changes the aerodynamics, that a crash is entirely possible. Jimmy Leeward’s sudden pitch-up is thought to have been caused by the loss of the trim.
This accident was probably the most closely observed and well-documented aviation disaster in history. This data is being given to the NTSB investigating team. The NTSB and FAA were even present at the event. Race 177 transmitted engine, airspeed, and other operating data by telemetry back to its crew in the pits.
The NTSB report will be thorough and likely answer all questions, but will probably take a long time for a comprehensive report to be completed. The investigations are conducted in a very “assume nothing, prove everything” manner, and being that deliberate takes time.
If you feel the need to understand what happened and how this accident occurred – and most of us who witnessed it do – here is some advice:
Don’t listen to people who are trying to sound authoritative but aren’t. Anyone who begins “I’m not a pilot, but …” or “I wasn’t there, but ….” will probably not have any relevant information.
Important decisions regarding the future of air racing will be made in the coming months. It is best to base decisions on information, analysis and reason. If public hysteria about safety is fed by rumor mongers, poor decisions will be the result.
Until the NTSB report is issued it is best to not speculate if you love aviation. Speculation only confuses and misleads those who don’t understand it, and works cross-purpose with those of us who do.
