one of the best TV cameramen in the business. His pictures were more than good; they were invariably attention-getting and oftentimes artistic. He had worked for CBA first in Vietnam, as a local recruit who learned his trade from an American cameraman for whom Minh carried equipment amid the jungle fighting. When his mentor was killed after stepping on a land mine, Minh, unaided , carried his body back for burial, then returned with the camera into the jungle where he continued filming. No one at CBA could ever remember hiring him. His employment simply became a fait accompli. In 1975, with the fall of Saigon imminent, Minh, his wife and two children were among the all-too-few lucky ones airlifted from the U.S. Embassy courtyard by CH-53 military helicopter to the safety of the American Seventh Fleet at sea. Even then Minh filmed it all, and much of his footage was used on the National Evening News . Now he was filming another aerial story, different but dramatic, whose ending had yet to be determined . In the viewfinder the shape of the approaching Airbus was becoming clearer . Also clearer was a halo of bright flame on the right side with smoke continuing to stream behind. It was possible to see the fire coming from where an engine had been, and where now only a part of the engine pylon remained. To Minh and others watching, it seemed amazing that the entire airplane had not yet been engulfed . Inside the station wagon, Vernon had switched on an aviation band radio . Air Traffic Control could be heard speaking with the Airbus pilots. The calm voice of a controller, monitoring their approach by radar, cautioned , "You are slightly below glide path . . . drifting left of center line . . . Now on glide path, on center line . . .”
But the Airbus pilots were clearly having trouble holding altitude and an even course. The plane seemed to be crabbing in, the damaged right wing lower than the left. At moments the plane's nose veered away; then, as if from urgent efforts in the cockpit, swung back toward the runway. There was an uneven up-and-down movement as at one moment too much height was lost , at the next retrieved, but barely. Those on the ground were asking themselves the tense, unspoken question: Having come this far, would the Airbus make it all the way in? The answer seemed in doubt . On the radio, the voice of one of the pilots could be heard .” Tower, we have landing-gear problems . . . hydraulic failure .”
A pause .” We are trying the gear down 'free fall' now .” A fire captain, also listening, had stopped beside them. Partridge asked him, "What does that mean ? ”
"On big passenger planes there's an emergency system to get the landing wheels down if hydraulic power is out. The pilots release all hydraulic power so the gear, which is heavy, should fall under its own weight, then lock. But once it's down they can't get it up again, even if they want to .”
As the fireman spoke, the Airbus landing gear could be seen slowly coming down . Moments later, once more the calm voice of an air traffic controller: "Muskegon, we see your gear down. Be advised that flames are close to the right front gear .”
It was obvious that if the right front tires were consumed by fire, as seemed probable, that side of the landing gear might collapse on impact , skewing the airplane to the right at high speed . Minh, fondling a zoom lens, had his camera running. He too could see the flames which had now reached the tires. The Airbus was floating over the airport boundary . . . Then it was closer in, barely a quarter mile from the runway . . . It was going to make it to the ground, but the fire was greater, more intense, clearly being fed by fuel, and two of the four right-side tires were burning, the rubber melting . . . There was a flash as one of the tires exploded . Now the burning Airbus was over the runway, its landing speed 150 mph . As the aircraft passed the waiting emergency vehicles, one by one they swung onto the
Brauna E. Pouns, Donald Wrye