Hi Folks! As you know, I usually write articles about saving time or making money, but I was recently swept up in a jarring event involving a plane crash in my neighborhood, and I am compelled to share the experience with you.
This all happened on a Friday in mid-August. It was 11am, and I’d just completed the finishing touches on a proposal I’d been working on for a month. It was a beast of a project, and I felt ragged and fried. My wife would be heading out of town for the second weekend in a row, and this would mark the tenth week of my daughter being at home around the clock, with no school or daycare or camp. I was desperate for some alone time to rest my mind and recharge my batteries, but there were more tasks on the to-do list.
I clicked open another window on my laptop and dug into another project when my daughter spontaneously crawled into my lap and said, “I love you, Daddy.”
I stared at the screen for a moment then shut my computer down. It was more important for me to be a good father at that moment than a productive entrepreneur. I looked down at her and asked if she’d like to go out to lunch with Daddy. The immediate hugs and giggles and bouncing assured me—this was the right thing to do.
We hopped into the truck and started down our dusty country lane, heading to her favorite restaurant. I looked in the rear view mirror to catch a glance at her adorable grin, and as I refocused my eyes on the road, I had to slam on the brakes! WHY IS THERE AN AIRPLANE IN A HEAP IN FRONT ME??!?
I turned off the motor and told Logan to stay in the truck and jogged toward the wreckage, my eyes fixed on the half-conscious pilot who was moaning, collapsed over his seatbelt. Before I could get too close, I was stopped by a first responder who shouted, “Get back! This area is not safe! There’s a gas spill!”
My heart jumped out of my chest. In full view of the entire scene now, I realized there were dozens of safety vehicles bearing down on this two-seater plane that had attempted an emergency landing in my neighbor’s field. The landing was unsuccessful, and the plane crashed, tearing through a wooden fence line before coming to a halt in the middle of my road just 400 yards from my house.
I wanted to do something, but it was too hazardous to get near the plane, and then I thought, “Oh God! Logan!” I turned and ran back to the truck, jumped in, floored it in reverse, did a 180 and sped wildly down the road to another neighbor’s house, and asked her to watch Logan so I could run back to the crash site.
By the time I returned, there were over 20 emergency responder vehicles shoved side by side, flanking the tiny country road. Emergency rescue workers were rushing back and forth with their gear strewn everywhere—sounds of sirens and walkie-talkies, the pungent smell of burning plastic—and at the center of all of it was a mangled single prop plane with the pilot trapped inside. It was surreal.
Notably, a focused calm fell over the entire chaotic scene, and people were taking their cues from a team of rescue workers who were working in choreographed harmony to extract the injured pilot. Almost an hour passed before they successfully pulled him from the torn-up cockpit, loaded him into a helicopter, and flew him to a level one trauma center in Richmond.
I learned, later, that he’d been teaching his trainee how to do a maneuver called a “touch-and-go” when the engine lost power, forcing him to attempt an emergency landing. The trainee walked away from the event unscathed, but tragically, the pilot succumbed to his injuries and died. He was 38 years old and married with two school-aged children
I’m a regular human being, living in this modern world, and every day I push myself hard to keep up with the insane pace and demands of running a small business. I get caught up in the pressure of things like “deadlines” and “goals” and “revenue growth,” and I get frustrated with clients who drag their feet, trying to decide whether or not to purchase my service. I bite off more than I can chew, and over time, I burn out and lose sight of what matters most to me: the people I love and care about.
There’ve been a few times in my life when the universe said, “Hey, take a look around you, man! I know you’ve got goals and deadlines, but don’t forget to appreciate what you’ve got RIGHT NOW!” That message has come to me in many forms over the years, and this was one of those moments. A plane fell out of the sky. Literally.
Later that night, I gave my daughter a big, lingering hug before tucking her in, and Amanda postponed her trip to D.C. for the day so she could spend the night with us.
As I lay down in our bed, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, reflecting on so many things I am truly grateful for. And I knew, absolutely, what mattered most to me in my life was right there in the room: A roof over my head, my wife sleeping soundly next to me, and a wiggly four year-old who was burrowed under my arm because she didn’t want to be alone in her room that night.
