American Airlines Flight 1238, November 26, 2008, Seattle-Tacoma, WA (SEA) to Chicago O'Hare, IL (ORD). McDonnell Douglas (now Boeing) DC-9-83, also designated MD-83.

It's been a while since I have posted a Pilot Trip Report. Normally I only write them when an irregularity has occurred, e.g., the one I posted July of 2007, involving a Milwaukee diversion on a SEA-ORD flight. However, this one describes my final flight as an AA pilot, so I thought I'd share one last time.

Here I am in Seattle, getting out of bed at the downtown Sheraton at 0615 Pacific time (all times are local, and using the 24-hour clock), about to end my last layover as an airline pilot. I'm still not sure the entire thing has sunk in. After a professional flying career spanning over 36 years, the last 21 and a half with AA, I am about to retire.

My wife, Jan, has accompanied me on this trip. We saw our daughter, Jenine, and son-in-law, Josh, who live in Seattle, last night, enjoying a superb dinner at the Oceanaire Seafood Room in downtown Seattle. Jan has gotten up before me; she has now vacated the bathroom so that I can get ready. Showering and putting on my uniform, I try to comprehend that this routine I have been going through for so many years is about to end.

We head down to the lobby and check out. Pickup time is 0710. Our limo (and it's a plush town car, not a van) is already waiting for us. My First Officer, Jay, joins us, and we set out for Sea-Tac (as the airport is called locally). The traffic on I-5 is not bad at all, and we arrive at the terminal 20 minutes after leaving the hotel.

Jay heads for the security line. I go with Jan to the automatic check-in machines so that she can pull her boarding pass. Then we go through security. She is allowed to bypass to the front of the security line with me, and we clear security with still an hour to go before our scheduled departure time of 0840. Jan stops at a bagel shop to get something to eat, in case she doesn't get into First Class. (AA has provided her with a reserved seat in Coach, but she must stand by for First.) I head directly to the gate, A-7.

The airplane has been here overnight. It's an MD-83, former TWA. (AA acquired TWA in early 2001.) Registration N9407R; built in 1994. Jay is doing his preflight inspection. I greet the gate agents, pointing out Jan's name on the standby list. One agent says it looks pretty favorable for her getting First Class; he pulls the boarding pass, but will hang onto it for just a little while yet.

I step around to the computer on the backside of the gate podium; it's specifically for flight crew use. I examine the flight plan on the computer screen. The first thing I always do, before printing a hard copy of the flight papers, is determine whether I approve the fuel load that the Dispatcher has planned for us. And I quickly ascertain this by looking at the planned destination arrival fuel. In recent years, the Company policy has been to plan for 70 minutes of arrival fuel on good weather days when no delays are expected. I personally prefer 90 minutes, but sometimes settle for 80 minutes. This time, we're planned to arrive ORD with 77 minutes. I debate with myself whether to just go with that - 77 minutes is almost 80. But, we'll certainly be landing to the west at ORD; that always adds a few minutes. Sometimes, fuel burn is a little more than planned. We're flight planned for Flight Level 330 (33,000 feet), but chop is forecast for part of our route, mostly over Montana. We may fly at a lower altitude. I decide to add 1000 pounds - about 11 minutes. It doesn't sound like a lot, but it can contribute substantially to peace of mind - namely, mine. It's silly, I think, to set oneself up for a possible diversion when the weather is gorgeous. The Dispatcher's attitude is along the lines of, Well, OK, if you really want it. Yep, Buddy, I do. A lot of press has been given recently to stories of pilots complaining that they're being cut short on fuel. Not THIS pilot. Never been a problem for me; I just won't put up with it.

I give the weather another cursory look - gorgeous all the way to Chicago. It's not going to be a factor. I pull up the flight papers and read over them, making sure that everything's in order.

Boarding has started; Jan has received her First Class seat, 3F. Window on the right side, first row of the airplane. (I've never quite figured out why AA starts row numbering with 3 on most narrow-body airplanes.) I walk with her down the jet bridge to the airplane and stow my bags. I introduce myself to the Flight Attendants: Cheryl, Cindy, and Chris, telling them that this will be my final flight. I'm particularly pleased that Chris is working the flight; I flew with her numerous times many years ago when I was a fairly new F/O on the MD-80. She's a very gracious, good-natured woman, perfect for the F/A job. Cindy and I are certain that we've flown together before, but can't nail down dates or places. I brief them, among other things, that we'll probably have a short taxi-out time - we'll be taking off to the north, so it's but a short distance from the terminal to the runway, and they'll need to get their safety demo completed in a timely manner.

I get myself settled in. Flight bag stowed. Oxygen mask and mike checked. Personal headset and mike checked. Seat adjusted. Sea-Tac taxi map out and clipped to my yoke. Navigation charts out and available. Sunglasses available.

Jay and I go over the route that he's already entered into the GFMS. (Global Flight Management System - i.e., a Flight Management System based upon GPS. Some AA MD-80s have a Flight Management System based upon inertial inputs, which are also extremely accurate, but most use GPS.) We're filed the Seattle Mountain Six Departure over Moses Lake, WA (MWH), then Jet Route 34 (J34) to Dupree, SD (DPR), then Jet Route 16 (J16) to Mason City, IA (MCW), then the Janesville 4 Arrival into ORD. ATC has slightly amended our clearance to fly Jet Route 70 (J70) to Moses Lake, then as originally filed. We are initially cleared to climb to 9,000 feet - normal for Seattle departures. All is correctly entered; we shouldn't get lost.

We run the first part of the Before Starting Engines checklist. Rudder pedals and seats - Adjusted and Locked. Windows - Closed and Locked. Oxygen Masks and associated equipment - Checked. Navigation system set up properly. Pressurization system set up properly. Instruments looking normal. Correct fuel load. Hydraulic fluid quantities checked and adequate. Takeoff warning horn checked. Parking brake set. And so on.

Now down to the "10 Minutes Prior" stuff. Seat belt sign --On (a cue to the F/As to do their required announcements about exit rows and carry-on bag stowage). Maintenance logbook -- On Board and Reviewed - making sure it's the right book (yeah, it's possible to get the wrong one, at stations with several airplanes overnighting) and that any maintenance write-ups have been cleared.

Boarding is just about complete. All standbys have gotten on. That's unusual for a flight the day before Thanksgiving, but demand for air travel this year, like everything else, is a bit diminished. The agents congratulate me on my final flight (which I'm STILL not totally comprehending). They tell me that they'll miss seeing me. (I've been a Seattle "regular" for many years, both as a passenger and as a crewmember.) I point out to them that I'll still be traveling to SEA on a regular basis to see my daughter and son-in-law. So - it's not really a Final Farewell.

The doors are closed. The push crew is ready to go. We complete the final part of the checklist. Electric fuel boost pumps - On. Auxiliary hydraulic pump - On. All doors - Closed. "Cabin ready" report from the F/As - Received. Cockpit door - Closed and Secured. Shoulder harnesses - On.

Jay calls Ramp Control on the radio. We are cleared for push-out. I release the parking brake and advise the push crew. They begin the push. The time is 0832, eight minutes early.

We're cleared for engine start. We start the left engine during the push. I advise Jay that we'll taxi out on both engines, since the engines are cold. A five-minute warm-up period is recommended in this case, and we'll have a short taxi. As soon as push-out is completed, we start the right engine, too.

I clear the push crew to disconnect the interphone. They unhook and give me the "all clear" salute. I wave them off, and after Jay calls Ramp Control, we begin to taxi, around the south side of the South Satellite terminal. We call Ground Control, who clears us to Runway 34 Right. .

We complete the Taxi and Before Takeoff checks. Flight controls (ailerons, elevator, rudder) free and full travel. Load closeout received, to make sure we're within proper weight and balance parameters. Passenger count is 134. Sounds like a pretty good load for a 140-seat airplane, but as I said, it's the day before Thanksgiving. In years past we'd probably have left people behind. Not this time.

It's but a short taxi to 34R, as I told the F/As. Their safety demo is completed. The tower tells us to hold short of the runway - an Alaska Airlines 737 is landing. Once he has touched down, we're cleared onto the runway. We complete the final part of the Before Takeoff checklist. Takeoff PA (for the F/As) - Completed. Engine Ignition - On. Navigation Display - Checked - 34R is properly displayed in the box. (Very important these days, with more and more departures being flown with reference to the Flight Management System.) I do my final, unofficial, "personal habit" checklist: both engines running, flaps and slats set correctly, stabilizer trim set. Of course, we have already covered these items, but they are absolutely vital, and I run over them one final time.

We are cleared for takeoff. One more checklist item: Nose lights - Bright (and I also illuminate the wing landing lights, for max visibility to other airplanes). I push the thrust levers forward, and call for autothrottles - engaged. Now takeoff thrust is set. We roll down the runway, gaining speed. Jay calls out "V1" - our takeoff decision speed. If we had needed to abort the takeoff, we should have done it already. Now, we are committed to a takeoff, regardless of what might go wrong. At this point, the safest thing to do if an emergency develops is to take the airplane into the air, sort out the problem, and return for landing. That way, we would have the entire length of the runway available, rather than a very limited amount remaining, in which we might not be able to stop safely.

Jay calls out "rotate," at which point I pull back on the yoke and point the nose upward. The airplane lifts off, at 0844. Jay calls "V2," our takeoff safety speed. If an engine should fail right now, this is the speed at which we would initially climb out. Soon afterward, he calls "V2 plus 10." Ten knots above V2 - our normal climb speed up to 1000 feet above the airport elevation, at which point we lower the nose and begin to accelerate to our climb speed of 250 knots below 10,000 feet, retracting the flaps and slats on schedule.

I track the ground path required by the departure routing, using the GFMS. We are heading north, toward downtown Seattle. Nice view of Elliot Bay and the Olympic Mountains to the west. Seven miles north of the airport, we turn to the east, per the procedure. Seattle Departure Control clears us to the Normy Intersection, the first navigation fix on our route. As we turn to the southeast to intercept our course, we have a great view of Mount Rainier. We're also cleared to 15,000 feet.

By now I have the autopilot engaged. We climb through 10,000 feet and begin to accelerate to our enroute climb speed of 300 knots. I chime the F/As to indicate that the "sterile" period - that is, the period in which they must not call us except for safety issues - is over with. By now we are talking to Seattle Center, and they clear us to Flight Level 310 (31,000 feet). I make a quick PA pointing out Mt. Rainier.

We continue southeastward, intercepting the airway. The view is great, the air is smooth. Hope it's the same all the way to Chicago. Nice beginning for my last flight.

We were slightly heavier than planned for takeoff - 145,600 pounds actual versus 144,300 pounds planned. This may affect our ability to climb to our planned altitude - Flight Level 330 (33,000 feet). I advise Jay that we may have to stop our climb at FL310 to burn off a bit more fuel. Right about now, ATC advises us that altitudes above FL310 are reported rather choppy. They recommend that we stay at FL310. Good. Just what I was thinking about doing, anyway.

We level off, setting cruise speed at Mach 0.75 (75 % of Mach One, the speed of sound). The ride is smooth - so far. I make my "Welcome Aboard" PA, telling of our routing, estimated landing time, and weather. I turn the seat belt sign off. Chop is forecast down the road, but it hasn't happened yet, so there's no reason people shouldn't get out of their seats if they need to.

We exit the State of Washington, passing over the "chimney" of Idaho, and into Montana. We keep hearing complaints of choppy air from flights above us, but so far, things have been smooth. Hopefully this will last. We continue to have a fine view of the mountains below us. This is one of the things I will miss, I tell myself.

However, passing Helena, MT (HLN), the ride starts to get bumpy. Not anything terrible, by a long shot, just annoying. I turn the seat belt sign on. ATC confirms that higher altitudes are even worse. So, even though we are now light enough to climb to FL330, I see no point to it. We're now talking to Salt Lake City Center, who has a few reports from airplanes down in the "high 20s" - FL260 to FL290. The rides are spotty there - some smooth, some bumpy. Not consistently smooth enough to warrant a descent, with increased fuel burn. I decide to stick it out here at FL310. It's annoying, but quite tolerable.

We pass Billings, MT (BIL). I make a PA, apologizing for the bumpy ride, and advising everyone that we're approximately two hours from landing at ORD. Current weather there hasn't changed: still fine, with a west wind.

We exit Montana, about an hour after we enter it. Now we're in South Dakota. Back into the flatlands, as the mountains disappear behind us. Cheryl calls us to offer breakfast. The choices are the same as they have been since prehistoric times: omelette or cereal. Usually I allow the F/O first pick, but I'm indulging myself today, so I take the omelette. (Jay wanted the cereal anyway, or so he says.)

Will I miss crew meals? The answer is not as obvious as might be thought. Airplane food has traditionally been fodder for stand-up comedians and subject to general ridicule. Some of that has been well-deserved, to be sure. But, in over 50 years of eating airplane food, both as a passenger and as a pilot, I must admit I've had some really good chow on airplanes. AA pilot meals are the same as served in First Class (minus the booze, of course), and I've eaten some very tasty, tender, cuts of meat, to say nothing of excellent hot breakfasts.

We eat our breakfast, complete with hot tea and orange juice, and continue through South Dakota. The bumps are beginning to subside. We are now talking to Minneapolis Center. Jay queries as to the ride at FL330. It won't be any different from 310, which is getting better by the minute. We request, and receive, clearance to climb. A couple of minutes later we are level at 330, and getting a nice ride. After waiting a few more minutes, just to make sure things will stay smooth, I turn the seat belt sign off again.

We pass over Dupree, SD (DPR). Running one minute ahead of our flight-planned time, but 500 pounds of fuel less. As I said, sometimes fuel burn is slightly greater than planned. Supposedly, the flight planning system accounts for this for each individual airplane, but I've seen numerous times when it hasn't seemed to. In any event, I don't regret having requested the additional thousand pounds of departure fuel.

Now exiting South Dakota, over Sioux Falls (FSD). Approximately one hour from landing at ORD. I make a PA to that effect. ORD weather is still the same. Ride is still good.

Jay and I decide it's time for our pre-landing restroom breaks. That got a bit more complicated after 9/11. Prior to that, we just popped out of the cockpit, did our business, and let ourselves back in with our cockpit key. Now, the cockpit door must only be opened from the inside, and the area surrounding the cockpit door must be inspected, through the viewing port, by someone inside the cockpit prior to opening the door. Since the remaining pilot must not leave his seat while at the controls, that means a Flight Attendant must be in the cockpit to accomplish this.

The F/As are at a lull in their service, so two of them are available: one to "baby-sit" in the cockpit, and the other to stand guard at the serving cart we use to block the aisle when the cockpit door is opened. There has been some debate as to the effectiveness of using a cart to block the aisle, but in the opinion of most, including me, it would certainly slow down a would-be hijacker wishing to breach the cockpit. (And, personally, I think the chances of that are miniscule anymore. Since 9/11, it is so much more difficult to carry out a hijacking that any competent terrorist would say, "Why bother?")

I take my break, and lean over the cart to say hi to Jan. She is napping, and totally unaware that I'm even there. I return to the cockpit and Jay takes his break.

We pass through northern Iowa, over Mason City (MCW). Soon, we are exiting Iowa into Wisconsin. Really nice view of the Mississippi River. Again, I'm telling myself, this is the sort of thing I will miss.

Now we're talking to Chicago Center. On the home stretch. We are cleared to cross 110 miles northwest of Janesville, WI (JVL) at FL 290. This is standard - I've been doing it for years. I begin the descent somewhat earlier than the GFMS recommends. I like to keep the descent gradual, so that no one feels undue ear discomfort. Even in pressurized cabins, some pressure changes are inevitable.

We approach Janesville. This is where I've always done my "Good-bye" PA. But this one will be a bit different. "We'll be landing in about 25 minutes, landing to the west. Weather hasn't changed. We'll probably be landing on the new runway that was opened just last Thursday, November 20th. I'd like to thank you for flying with us. And now - I normally say that I hope to see you again soon on another American Airlines flight. But, in fact, I won't be seeing you or anyone else on another AA flight, because this flight marks the end of a 36-year professional flying career, the last 22 of which have been with American. I'll be retiring."

I go on, trying not to deliver too much of a harangue, and thank all the passengers and cargo shippers who have made my career possible. I thank all my wonderful fellow employees, including those working this flight. I thank all the air traffic controllers, who have kept my flights safe. And last, but not least, I thank Jan, for putting up with being an aviation spouse for lo these many years, which has NOT always been easy.

We enter the Chicago area, cleared to cross the Krena Intersection, 34 miles northwest of ORD, at 10,000 feet and 300 knots. Chicago Approach Control advises that we will, indeed, be landing on Runway 27 Right. This is the brand new runway, the first built at ORD since 1971. It's east-west (we'll be landing west), 7500 feet long (not overly long, but it'll be used for landings, which generally require less length than takeoff runways), and runs along the far north side of the field.

Approach Control gives us headings to fly, and clears us to successively lower altitudes, as well as giving us speed reductions. By now we are back to 170 knots. We pass just north of O'Hare and go out east as far as Evanston, on the lake shore, immediately north of Chicago. We turn back west toward the airport. The runway is in sight, and we are cleared for the visual approach to 27R. We are told to maintain 170 knots until the final approach fix, about five miles from the airport.

I have been calling progressively for increased slat and flap settings during our assigned speed reductions. As we approach the final approach fix, we are at 170 knots, with 23 degrees of flaps. Over the fix, I call for landing gear down. Once the gear is down and locked, I call for 28 degrees flaps, then 40 degrees -- our landing flap setting (and the max available in the MD-80). Normally I would call for the medium autobraking setting, but this being a former TWA airplane, there is no autobraking system installed. I'll have to do it all myself.

I disconnect the autopilot and continue down the glide slope. 1000 feet, 500 feet. The wind is steady out of the west, at about 10 knots. 300 feet, 200 feet, 100 feet. At 50 feet we cross the runway threshold. At 30 feet, I start to bring the nose up. 20 feet. 10 feet. This is my last one, so I want to make it good. I "feel" for the runway, gingerly. The main wheels touch, smoothly. Nice one! I let the nose wheel down, gently. Engines into reverse. I apply the brakes, not too abruptly. We ease down to taxi speed, turning left off the runway. Pretty decent for my "stage exit." I am pleased. Local time is 1406.

There is quite a bit of taxiing involved when landing on the new runway, since it's so far from the terminal. We follow the prescribed routing, as cleared by Ground Control; it's designed not to cross any active runways. This may be changed sometime, but for now that's the program. I call for right engine shutdown; we don't need it anymore. We finally arrive at our terminal, and are cleared into our gate, K-1, right up next to the main terminal.

We are marshaled into the gate. Closer, closer, now the "stop" signal. I set the parking brake, for the last time. The time is 1423, twelve minutes early. Seat belt sign, Off. Waiting for the ramp crew to plug in external electrical power. I pop the cockpit door open, to be sociable, as I have always done.

External power connected. I call for left engine shutdown. We run the parking checklist. Brakes - Parked. Seat belt sign - Off. External power - Established. Fuel levers - Off. Anti-collision light - Off. Engine ignition - Off. Fuel pumps - Off. Emergency lights - Off. And so on down the list. Our arrival fuel is 7,000 pounds, a thousand less than planned. Again, I'm glad I put on the extra fuel.

Parking checklist complete. Jay and I shake hands; he congratulates me on my retirement. He lives in McHenry, in the far northwestern suburbs, about an hour's drive from ORD, so I tell him to cut out and start home as soon as he wants to. I stand in the cockpit doorway and accept the congratulations and good wishes of the passengers as they deplane.

Passengers are off. I pack all my equipment into my flight bag and get ready to deplane myself. Only the F/As are left. They congratulate me one more time. I tell them thanks, and mention to Chris that I remember with particular fondness some of the red-eyes from the West Coast to Chicago that I flew with her, almost 20 years ago.

I walk up the jet bridge and meet Jan, who was one of the first off the airplane. We will drive my ORD Airport Car, a 1994 Saturn SL2, back to our home in Ann Arbor, MI. I will have to drive around to the front of the terminal and pick her up; she is not allowed to ride with me in the employee bus to the parking lot. (Obviously, employee spouses are considered a security risk Yeah, right. Don't get me started. This is one part that I will NOT miss. Silly bureaucracy.)

I arrive in ORD Flight Operations. The time is 1450. I go to the Flight Administration office. Laurie, the director, is not there, but Donna, her assistant, is. I jokingly mention to her that I still have 10 minutes to change my mind about retiring. (The deadline is 1500.) She tells me that she has already cleared out my remaining schedule. No turning back now. Not that I wanted to . . .

I see a few of my old friends and tell them that I have just completed my final trip. They offer their best wishes. I ride the bus to the parking lot for the last time, drive my car around to the front of the passenger terminal, where Jan is waiting, and we set out for Ann Arbor, five hours away.

We arrive safely home late that night, in time to get just a few hours of sleep before Jenine arrives at Detroit Metro Airport (DTW) to visit us for Thanksgiving.