I opened the door to the most dreadful room in our house and walked in without looking at anything. The air felt still and heavy, as if the molecules had stayed in the same form for years. I kneeled by one of the drawers and called out to my daughter, Juliane, “Jules, did you want the blue or pink nail polish.”
“I want both, Daddy.”
“Alright, coming right up.”
I grabbed the two little bottles and ran down the stairs without spending a minute longer in our… my bedroom.
It was Christmas time – Juliane’s favorite time of the year. It used to be mine, too, until my wife passed away during the Christmas holidays last year. She lost her battle with breast cancer. We lost her battle with breast cancer. I had promised to keep her safe and get us out of those dark times, but I failed to keep my promise. Then I swore to her that I would not let anything bad happen to our daughter – the only person who made life worth living.
When I got downstairs, Juliane was sitting by the Christmas tree, poking at the gifts wrapped in unicorn wrapping paper.
“You know that we can’t open them now, right?” I said, putting the nail polish on the kitchen counter.
“Whyyyyy?”
“Because they’re for Christmas.”
“But we are not going to be home on Christmas.”
“We will come back and unwrap them then.”
She looked at me with a big frown, creating little wrinkles on her innocent face, and said, “You’re no fun. Mommy would let me open them now.”
She frequently brought up her mother, but it never got easier to act like everything was fine.
“Let’s paint your nails, yeah? I brought both pink and blue.”
I wanted to put off unwrapping the presents for as long as possible. It had always been a tradition for me and my wife, Sylvia, to wake Juliane up on Christmas morning and open our presents together. We had even kept our tradition last year in the hospital. I was not ready to do that alone. I wanted my wife to be with me. I needed my wife to be with me.
“You forgot the white one, daddy,” Juliane said as she hopped on a stool.
“Oops. Sorry. Would you mind getting it yourself, cupcake?”
“From Mommy’s drawer?”
“Yes.”
“Ok,” she replied happily and ran upstairs.
After Sylvia’s death, entering our room became one of the hardest things for me. I slept in Juliane’s room for the first few months, but I had to return to my old routine sooner or later. My decision to move back to my room proved to be wrong since I could not keep my eyes shut for more than ten minutes. I even had to take a leave from work because I was dangerously sleep-deprived. And as a commercial pilot, I could not afford to go to work like that. Hundreds of people’s lives depended on me. As a solution, I started sleeping in the living room, careful not to be noticed by Juliane.
I couldn’t even get my clothes out of the closet. As soon as I opened the doors, the smell of Sylvia’s perfume would spread around, and it would feel like nothing had changed – my wife was alive and healthy, getting ready for work. I did not like that illusion; it made life a hundred times more miserable.
Sylvia was a zoologist. One of the best out there. She was so passionate about her work that she was able to convince me – a person whose only interests used to be planes and numbers – to love nature just as much as she did. Juliane was a fan of her stories too. We would sit and listen to her talk about rainforests for hours. She used to take Jules to her research stations and stay there for months at a time, and I would visit them whenever I had flights in their direction.
My schedule had always been hard to manage, especially when I became my daughter’s only caretaker. Our babysitter was outstanding, but I always felt guilty for leaving my baby at home. I wanted to take time off for Christmas like I did every year, but my request was denied. I had already used all my break days that year and had to pick up a shift on Christmas Eve.
Since the flight was to Lima, Peru – Sylvia’s favorite place for both work and holidays – and I would have a few rest days before returning to Canada, I decided to take Juliane with me. We would get to spend Christmas together and visit her favorite zoo in Lima. Having her around would also give me the strength to get through those days.
When Juliane came back, we started painting her nails. She wanted to do different patterns, but the only things I managed to draw were shaky smiley faces. I felt horrible for not being able to make her fantasies come true, but she seemed to be happy with the result.
“Let’s go to sleep now, baby. We have to wake up early in the morning.”
“Daddy, can we take this with us?”
She was holding a white glass picture frame with a photo of the three of us at a zoo in front of a giraffe. She was sitting on my shoulders, her little curls messily tied, while Sylvia and I were holding hands. We had taken that photo on our trip to the London Zoo on Juliane’s 5th birthday two summers ago.
“I have that picture on my phone, baby.”
“But I want to carry it with me, so I can show everything to mommy. She would love to come to the zoo with us.”
“Yes, she would.”
“Do you think there are zoos in the sky with the angels?”
“Yes, there are. Mommy is in a good place up there.”
“Will we see her when we fly on the plane?”
“No, I’m afraid we won’t.”
“But you said that mommy is in the clouds. Are we not going there?”
“We are, but not that high.”
“Why? I wish I could be living in the clouds with mommy.”
I got a choking feeling in my throat, “Me too, baby, me too.” I carefully took out the picture from the frame and gave it to Juliane. She put it in the chest pocket of the yellow overalls she was going to wear the next day.
I picked her up, and we went to her room. When I was about to leave, she asked me to stay, and I did. She held onto me all night, and I felt strangely peaceful. Something that had not happened in a really long time.
The next morning, we got to the airport, and I took Jules to our flight crew members, so she wouldn’t be alone while I prepared for the flight. Since she and Sylvia used to fly with us all the time, everyone knew her and were more than happy to take care of her for a few hours.
I was happy that we had a few connecting flights since that would give me the chance to hang out with my daughter. I wished I could have her in the cockpit during the flights as well. My one relief was that Jules wasn’t scared of flying. As a matter of fact, she enjoyed it so much that she frequently asked me to take her to work with me. I guess that’s one of the perks of having a plane captain for a father.
Our first leg of the flight was from Toronto to Bogota, which was quite uneventful. I got to see Jules shortly before we took off for Panama City. That flight was a bit more stressful since we had to fly through a rain storm, but my first officer and I were able to safely land the plane at our designated destination.
When we got off the plane, I asked the maintenance crew to check if everything was fine with the plane since I had heard unfamiliar noises during the landing. After I was done talking to them, I went to the crew resting area at the airport to find Jules sitting on the floor, drawing something.
As soon as she saw me, she jumped up from her place and came into my arms.
“How did I fly, Jules? Was the flight smooth enough?”
“Yes, daddy. It was perfectly splendid.”
“I see someone’s learned a new expression, huh?”
“Ms. Rose taught me that.”
“Did you behave well? Did she, Ms. Rose?”
“She has been amazing, captain Roord,” Rose, one of our flight attendants, replied with a slight blush.
“Somebody deserves an ice cream, then.”
“Can I have strawberry ice cream?”
“You can get any flavor you’d like when we land in Lima.”
She hugged me tighter and pointed at her drawing on the floor. “Look, I drew our family. You and me at the zoo, and mommy looking at us from the clouds. I didn’t have brown to color our hair, so I did it with blue. Do you like it? I know mommy would.”
I tried to reply, but my throat closed up. I could hardly breathe. Luckily, Rose noticed and gave me a glass of water.
“Daddy, did you see mommy in the clouds? I did.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, she was smiling and calling me.”
“Oh… No, I didn’t see her.”
“I will tell her to come and say hi to you when we fly again.”
“Sounds good. Now let’s go and have some food, shall we?”
We grabbed some sandwiches and went to the lounge area to relax a bit. They had some foreign cartoons on the big TV, which both of us enjoyed, even though we had no idea what was going on. When the time came to board the plane again, Juliane hugged me and said, “Hope you haven’t forgotten about the ice cream, daddy.”
“Strawberry flavored,” I replied with a proud smile.
“I love you.”
“I love you more. Try to get some rest on the plane, so you have a lot of energy when we get there, ok?”
“Ok, but promise me to fly a bit higher, so I can see mommy again.”
“I promise.”
Rose took Juliane’s hand, and they headed toward the entrance.
After going through our pre-flight checklists, we were ready for take-off. The first two-thirds of the flight went smoothly. The mechanics had told me that the plane was completely fine, and I had probably imagined those sounds. I was glad I had checked in with them because it would bug me for the rest of the journey.
We were flying over some rainforests when we suddenly found ourselves in the middle of a thunderstorm. It wasn’t the first time we encountered such severe weather conditions, so there was nothing to worry about. However, after a few minutes, the plane started to shake. One of the flight attendants informed us that the overhead compartments had opened, and the luggage was falling on people’s heads. There was nothing I could do about the luggage. My job at that moment was to take control of the plane that had stopped responding to my orders. As we were about to go through our checklist for similar situations, we heard a loud bang on the plane’s right side. Our right engine stopped working almost immediately. We were in big trouble.
I had forgotten that my daughter was in the plane’s cabin for a moment. When I remembered, a new form of fear spread through me, making everything blurry in front of my eyes. My hands started to shake, and an unfamiliar buzz filled my ears.
“Captain! Captain! Captain Roord! Christopher! Chris!” I could hear the mumbled screams of my first officer, but I couldn’t move.
“Captain, both of our engines have failed! One of them is on fire, and we have lost communication with the ground. Captain! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!”
His voice was getting more distant with every word until it stopped altogether. An instant later, I found myself falling off the plane, still strapped to my seat. I was spinning and falling at an incredibly high speed until I completely blacked out.
I came to consciousness in the middle of a jungle, still sitting in my chair. There was no one around me. Every inch of my body was aching, but my head was hurting the most. Much to my surprise, I was able to stand up and move around relatively freely.
As the captain of the plane, my first thoughts were supposed to be about the crash, the reasons behind it, its whereabouts, calling a search party, and so on. But the only thing I could think about was my daughter. I could not afford to lose her too. I had promised myself and my wife that I would keep her safe no matter what.
I started listening closely to my surroundings to catch any sounds that would indicate the main crash site. All I could hear was the sound of a river and the rustle of the leaves. It took me a second to realize how important that river could be to me. Sylvia had always been saying how rivers are the main helpers in jungles – always leading to civilizations.
I knew I couldn’t help the possible survivors on my own, so I rushed to the sound of the water, hoping to find people who could help me. After walking for a bit, I noticed smoke coming from a distance. As I got closer, I realized that it was our cockpit, which had apparently separated from the rest of the plane. That explained the reason for my fall and why I was far away from the main wreckage. My first officer, Joe, was lying on the ground, almost entirely burnt, showing no signs of life. His mouth was open, teeth knocked out, eyes bruised, nose crooked. This sight made me feel sick, and a moment later, I was throwing up in what used to be my “workplace.”
I knew I had to be strong, so I kept walking to the water, hoping to see my daughter on the way. But did I really want that? Was I ready to face reality? At that point, I wasn’t sure which scenario would be better.
A bit farther from the previous spot, there was another wreckage. Three seats were halfway into the ground, people still strapped on them. The only visible parts of these people were their feet. Two of the passengers were little kids, and I was horrified at the thought of Juliane being one of them. I went closer and took off their shoes, which were covered in mud and leaves. I looked at their toenails, hoping I wouldn’t see the nail polish Jules and I had been putting on the night before.
She wasn’t one of them. I started jumping up and down in excitement. It took me a few minutes to see how sick my behavior was.
Scavenging through the seats, I found a bag of hard candies and popped one in my mouth. Its sweetness turned bitter immediately after the cuts in my mouth started bleeding again. Normally, I would get disgusted and spit it out, but I did not care at that moment.
I continued my walk, feeling a huge sense of relief and freshness. There was no sign of my Jules, and that made me feel invincible, ready to conquer the jungle and its wildlife. I walked for two days, not finding any more crash sites. It looked like the plane had separated mid-air and fallen in different areas. At the end of the second day, I finally reached the river. Having listened to hours of jungle stories, I was aware that my journey would be quicker if I walked in the water instead of the ground. The thought of crocodiles and water snakes was terrifying, but I had no other choice. Sylvia had told me that the crocodiles would not touch people and that the venomous insects on the ground would cause more harm than them.
Since I trusted my wife more than anyone else in the world, I got into the river and started walking with its flow. I saw a few crocodiles and other terrifying water creatures here and there, but they would go away from the sight of me. It sometimes even felt like they were the ones scared of me.
A few more days passed before I finally reached a place that showed signs of civilization. In the distance, I noticed a little hut and rushed to get there. Well, rushed would be a bit of an overstatement, as I could barely walk because my left knee was in unbearable pain. When I got to the hut, its emptiness broke my spirits. I was hoping to find people inside, but there was nothing but four wooden blocks, one in every corner. I lied to one of them and immediately lost consciousness.
Two men poured gasoline into my wrist’s cut when I opened my eyes. Looking down, I noticed that it was all infested with maggots. Ignoring the soul-wrenching pain, I started immediately telling them about the plane, the crash, and my daughter.
They said that they were aware of the crash and that the rescue team was on their way to get me to a hospital.
The next few weeks were a blur to me since they were filling me with all sorts of meds to make me suffer less. I could not keep up with my ongoing list of injuries.
Every time I asked about my daughter, they would give me vague answers and poke me with more needles. After a while, I realized that they simply did not know how to tell me the bad news.
Another broken promise. Another lost life. Another failure on my part.
I did not even think about the fact that the crash had killed dozens of other people. All I could think about was how I had lost my daughter and disappointed Sylvia.
On the day when I was supposed to be discharged from the hospital, some people from the airline and a few investigators came to see me. They told me there were no charges against me at that point of the investigation since the pilot error was one of the first theories they tested out. I was free to go home but could not return to work until I fully recovered.
“I’m resigning,” I said before they could finish their talk on my future comeback.
They looked at each other but did not say anything. Before they left, they gave me a zip-lock bag and said, “Thought you might want this.”
I took the bag and saw the picture of me, Sylvia, and Jules at the zoo. It was burnt on the sides, and the only recognizable face in the picture was mine. Ironic since the investigators had told me that I was the only survivor of the crash. At that moment, I wanted to cry, but I could not. I wanted to believe that it was because of the meds and not because I had become numb on the inside.
I did not want to return home, but I had no other place to go. It even felt wrong to refer to that house as home. I had nothing left to call home, no one left to call home. I would not be greeted with hugs and kisses upon my arrival. It was all gone. I had lost everything.
When I got there and opened the front door, it felt like I was entering a museum. Everything looked staged. Instead of invoking memories, the decorations of the house looked fake. I glanced at the unopened presents under the Christmas tree and left the house without touching anything.
Maybe I liked the numbness. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe I wasn’t meant to feel anything ever again.
My unconscious walk took me to a grocery store, where I got myself some strawberry ice cream. I had never liked that flavor; it tasted nothing like strawberries. I went out and sat on a park bench, eating that ice cream like it was the most delicious thing in the world. It was snowing heavily. People were walking by and looking at me like I was some freak who had survived a fall from 21,000 feet and was eating ice cream during a snowstorm…
Author’s note: This story is inspired by the crash of LANSA flight 508 and the miraculous survival of Juliane Koepcke.
