On the afternoon of April 19th, 2024, while returning from a work summit in Washington, DC, I had a layover at the St. Louis airport in Missouri. Like any other flight with a layover, I deplaned and headed to the terminal where the next leg of my journey was assigned. I, along with 174 others, boarded the plane. I usually prefer an aisle seat towards the front of the plane when flying, but it was a full flight, and I forgot to check in on time, so I was among the last passengers to board the plane. As a result, I was forced to take a middle seat. Once I chose my row, unbeknownst to me over the right wing and engine, I motioned to the fellow occupying the aisle seat to let him know I would like to sit down. He was very kind, and for reasons you will come to understand, he had a face that I will never forget.

Like any other flight, I sat down, put my headphones on, and started my audiobook and a game of solitaire. I happened to be listening to Fiona Iverson’s Rules for Commuting by Claire Pooly. Very appropriate for flying with a group of strangers. I mostly ignored the flight attendant’s demonstration of what to do in case of an emergency. You know, put your oxygen mask on before assisting anyone else with theirs and grab your life vest from under your seat along with instructions on how to inflate it. And then we were off, heading back to Sacramento…so we thought!

While climbing, our pilot made an announcement letting us know that we had hit 10,000 feet and that we should pay attention to the seatbelt signs before moving around the cabin, but then, he abruptly dropped off. There was no mention of our pending drink service or our complimentary snacks, which seemed odd to me. Then, we all heard a loud boom and a screeching noise and felt our plane dip. Collectively, the entire plane let out a big “OH,” followed by an announcement from one of the flight attendants asking us to make sure our seatbelts were tightly buckled and to stand by for an announcement from our pilot. The entire plane became eerily silent. Of course, in my head, I was going through the emergency protocol, trying to remember what it was I was supposed to do and wishing I had paid better attention.

We did not hear from our pilot for what seemed like an eternity, but I suspect it was between five and ten minutes. Within that time frame, so many thoughts were going through my head. It was the first time in my life I genuinely thought that I could be approaching my ending. Slowly, tears started to stream down my face as I thought about my husband, Nigel, and my sons, Spencer and Riley. Recognizing that our access to WiFi could be compromised, I quickly sent a message to our family group text to let them know that I thought something might be wrong with our plane and that I loved them very much. I then texted “the Penguins,” a group of my high school friends whom I had been chatting with throughout the day, and told them I loved them. Then, we lost our connection to WiFi. I noticed the lady sitting in the window seat next to me, shaking her phone. I assumed she was also attempting to contact her loved ones and realized we no longer had WiFi.

Remember the jovial fellow I was sitting next to? He must have noticed my tears because I felt his hand pat my knee. I looked at him, and he gave me a smile that said, I hope everything will be okay. FINALLY, our pilot announced over the intercom that we had “lost an engine” and were going to be returning to the St. Louis airport. My first thought was, what lost an engine? For those wondering, the engine did not drop from the plane. In layman’s terms, it boomed and was no longer functioning. Our journey back to St. Louis was filled with lots of nervous jokes and laughter. My favorite was a group of workmates teasing the guy sitting next to me that this happened because he did not put his phone into airplane mode!

As we made our way back to St. Louis, we could feel our plane pulling to one side and dipping periodically. Think of paddling with one ore. As our plane approached the runway, we were asked again to tighten up our seatbelts. The kind man sitting next to me patted my knee again and suggested I prepare myself for a rough landing. Our landing was not too rough, but it was very, very fast. As we landed, the entire plane applauded and cheered. On the ground, we were greeted by a slew of emergency vehicles. We were told that our plane and our brakes were being inspected. The flight attendants were inspecting the plane from the inside, looking for smoke or damage. From the inspection, they determined our brakes were too hot to function properly, so we had to wait on the tarmac for them to cool down before we could make it to the terminal gate.

While we waited, I regained cell service and let my family know I was okay. I noticed I had a message from a colleague wishing me and others a safe journey home! I filled him in on my predicament and was touched when he offered to help in any way possible, including finding me lodging or alternative transportation. At this point, both were sounding pretty good. A cross-country trip on Amtrak was very appealing! When we finally made our way to the terminal gate, our captain announced that we would be departing and that another plane was making its way to St. Louis to pick us up. As one might expect, no one from our plane was in any hurry to get back up in the air.

Oddly, we deplaned into an empty terminal. I’m not sure if that was by design, but it’s probably best not to have a plane full of passengers having our experience mingling with those getting ready to board flights. Our flight crew made their way through our group, receiving lots of love and appreciation for safely landing our plane. Typically, when you look around while waiting for a flight, you don’t see folks interacting outside of their party. In the terminal, my fellow passengers were chatting, sharing their accounts of our emergency landing, and buying “drinks” from the lone kiosk that was opened for us (in the St. Louis airport, it is legal to walk around with alcoholic beverages). At one point, someone pulled out a saxophone and played to a cheering crowd. I smiled at a lady who had been on my flight and appeared to be upset. She hugged me and told me that she had her Rosary beads out and had been praying that we would have a safe landing.

After a couple of hours of decompressing, our new airplane arrived. My flight back was a quick four hours. I was so emotionally drained that I fell asleep, of course, once we were past 10,000 feet, and I had my complimentary beverage and snacks. My new seatmate shared with me that she had chatted with our previous pilot in the terminal, and he shared that in his twenty-five years of being a pilot, this was the first time he had experienced a failed engine. She then thanked him and asked for a hug. As they hugged, she said she sobbed. When we finally landed, and while waiting for my luggage at the Sacramento airport, I ran into my original seatmate. We high-fived and wished each other well.

I now know that modern planes are designed to fly with one engine if needed. I also now know that flight crews receive a great deal of training for failed engines. I am extremely grateful for our pilot’s ability to land our plane safely, the kindness and comradery I experienced from the flight crew and my fellow passengers, and the support from my family, friends, and colleagues. I don’t plan to get on a plane anytime soon, but I did receive a very sincere email from the airline apologizing for our experience and offering me a voucher for a future flight…I think I will wait on that one.

About the author: Kristie Pearmund is a Downieville local who boarded Southwest Flight 5907 on April 19th, 2024.