To cancel Snowbirds would be to clip our wings
You do not honour Cpt. Jennifer Casey by killing the thing she loved. That killed her. It didn’t take long, in the awful wake of last Sunday’s crash of a CC-114 Tutor jet, for some to proclaim the Snowbirds should be removed from the skies yonder and anon.
This would be the same subset of doves who abhor the annual CNE airshow. Because, you know, it’s such a noisy intrusion on their Labour Day weekend. Although, I would submit, it’s the military display they truly find distasteful.
I recall a columnist writing that fighter jets screeching overhead would surely traumatize immigrants and refugees who’d lived through the horrors of war. Not that a single immigrant or refugee was quoted saying so. No immigrant or refugee I’ve ever interviewed has made a single reference to the spectacle. Doubtless they have more pressing matters on their mind.
So I say, cry me a river! Not the immigrants and refugees who’ve found a blessed foothold in Canada, but the lachrymose hand-wringers who profess to speak for them, out of their own western, liberal guilt. Which knows no bounds. Many of us have by now seen the wrenching citizen video that shows the red-and-white Snowbird suddenly peeling off from its synchronized companion, ascending sharply — possibly, say aviation experts, seeking options out of altitude if the engine had suffered a catastrophic failure, to gain more altitude, if ejection was necessary. As, indeed, it appears on the video that two seats were violently propelled out of the plane after the Snowbird rolled on its axis and plummeted.
Capt. Richard MacDougall survived the parachuting with serious, but non-life-threatening injuries. Casey, who would have been in the sideby-side passenger seat, did not.
We’ll know, when MacDougall is well enough to provide investigators with a play-byplay of those few seconds, what happened from his cockpit perspective. Investigative teams have already collected artifacts from the scene. The Snowbird crashed into a residential neighbourhood, a mercy that nobody on the ground was killed.
They’ll have flight data, witness accounts and mechanical reports; the cause may be established within weeks. The second stage of the investigation will involve analysis of human factors and how personnel — MacDougall and Casey — reacted to the crisis, and whether those reactions contributed to the crash, as Col. John Alexander, director of flight safety for the Canadian Armed Forces, told CTV.
But, please, let’s not exploit this tragedy to make a case for permanently grounding Canada’s precision demonstration flight team as a piece of aviation arcana.
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau took a cautious tone when addressing the fate of the Snowbirds, saying he would wait for the investigation’s outcome before making “any assumptions.” Although, “I think there are very good questions being asked by a whole lot of people about safety.”
And we’re all aware that governments, in particularly Trudeau’s Liberals, have a history of listening to the shrillest voices out there.
Safety of the Snowbirds is, obviously, of paramount importance. They’re worrisomely old aircraft, a staple of airshow demonstrations for nearly half a century, serving as a training aircraft from 1963 until retired from that gig in the early 2000s. Thus, a tribute to the mechanics who’ve kept them aloft for almost six decades, marred by 18 crashes. Seven pilots and two passengers lost since 1971.
It’s a risky business, not for the faint of heart. That’s the allure, for the pilots and for spectators. Because some people quicken to danger, push boundaries of an earthbound existence, break the sound barrier, soar.
The jets are due to be replaced between 2026 and 2035, at a cost of anywhere from $500 million to $1.5 billion. Upgrades are set to begin in 2022, but the Tutors are cleared to fly until 2030.
The annual cost of the Snowbirds squadron is a mere $4.3 million. They perform some 60 shows yearly across North America. That’s chickenfeed for the return as a genuine national treasure and the sheer thrill of it all. I am in awe. They make my heart pound and millions of others feel the same way. Cpt. Casey clearly felt that way, making a professional U-turn from radio reporter in Nova Scotia to public relations officer for the team, flying umpteen miles with squadron.
“As Canadian ambassadors, we demonstrate the skills, professionalism and teamwork of the Canadian Forces and we serve as a platform for recruiting,” Lt.-Col. Mike French, the team’s commanding officer, told a media conference, expressing his hope the Snowbirds would return from their operational pause. “It’s a mission that I can get behind. It’s a mission I believe in, and it’s a mission that I believe is important.”
A view of precision aerobatics teams shared by the Blue Angels (U.S. navy), Thunderbirds (U.S. air force), Blue Falcons (New Zealand), Blue Impulse (Japan), Frecce Tricolori (Italy), Patrouille de France (oldest, active since 1931), the Red Arrows (U.K.), Falcons of Russia and dozens more.
Canada is not a weird outlier in its attachment to high-flying extravaganzas.
Hell, the Snowbirds were on a nationwide tour intended to uplift Canadians during the coronavirus pandemic and as a tribute to health-care workers: Operation Inspiration.
It’s a pity Toronto got only a limited view of the exceptionally skilled formation a couple of weekends ago because of bad weather.
On Wednesday, Capt. Casey’s family issued a statement, describing the cross-Canada mission as “designed for her” — for their Jenn, her sense of adventure, her eagerness to travel the world “meeting new friends at every step along the way.”
“Her journey took her many places, but her heart was always at home in Halifax.
“Many say that the military is much like a second family, and Jenn welcomed these brothers and sisters with open arms and all of her heart.”
The military mourns its losses, but always carries on.
Canada should do the same and let the Snowbirds take wing again.