As a result of the terrorist attacks on 9/11, all non-military aircraft in the United States was grounded for 48 hours. In addition, no flights were allowed to enter U.S. airspace. Nothing like this had ever happened to air traffic in the history of this country, EVER.
At the time, I lived in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. The city is a small suburb to the east of Cleveland, Ohio and is located about 7 miles from Cleveland’s Public Square. The city got its name by virtue of the fact that it sits on the beginning of the Appalachian Mountains escarpment. It’s easily about 300 ft. or more higher than the noticeably flat Cleveland landscape. From certain points in the suburb, the three major skyscrapers surrounding Public Square can easily be seen. They are the iconic Terminal Tower, Key Tower and the Huntington Building (originally the BP building). These facts are significant for a couple of reasons.
Many commercial aircraft use a vector beacon located on the tallest building, the Key Tower, to turn to a heading of 240 for their approach to runway 24L or 24R at Hopkins International Airport. A vector is simply a highway in the sky. Aircraft use the vectors to fly from one airport to another.
This approach to Hopkins is used when the prevailing winds dictate which runway to use. An aircraft will always take off or land flying into the wind. This increases its airspeed relative to the ground, and thus, it uses less runway. (By the way, strong crosswinds are a pilot’s nightmare, See YouTube)
In good visibility, a pilot can see the buildings from miles away.
However, what a pilot does is a little different at or near an airport. An aircraft’s heading is the runway it took off from or landed on. Once airborne, a pilot will turn to a new heading putting them on the vector to their destination. Once there, air traffic controllers will hand the plane off to ground control who will monitor their approach.
The main runways at Hopkins point almost perfectly to downtown Cleveland, and the prevailing winds are very often from the west or southwest. This means a pilot will make his final approach from the northeast.
Cleveland Heights is located underneath many of the flight paths approaching the vector beacon. At this point, the altitude of these aircraft is about 3000 feet.
Less than 100 yards from my apartment in Cleveland Heights is the Coventry business district. At the time there was a coffee house with a small open area called Coventry Park which had outdoor seating. I frequented this coffee house almost daily during the afternoon hours and, weather permitting, sat outdoors. From this vantage point, I could hear and see nearly all of the flights homing in on the vector beacon.
When the government grounded all flights, the silence was deafening.
It’s odd how one can take constant background noise for granted until it disappears.
The weather during that 72 hour grounding, and for a few more days after, was gorgeous. Seasonal temperatures with lots of clear skies and sun. This meant that I sat outdoors every day.
When the ban was lifted, the first aircraft that I heard while sitting in the outdoor park caught my attention like never before. It broke the silence.
When I looked up, I saw that a commercial airliner had two fighter jets, one on each wingtip, escorting it to Hopkins.
I had never seen anything like that before.
I will never forget that.
I can only imagine what was going through the minds of the passengers on that flight.