|
Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...
|
My family moved to St. Louis in the fall of 1956, a year before the new and architecturally ultra-modern, dual-domed airport terminal building opened on Lambert Field. The old terminal was on the far northwest corner of the airport. I recall walking out on the ramp from the old terminal at night as a 6-year-old in the fall of 1956 to meet my dad, who had just flown in as a passenger on a DC-6. No restrictions—just me, my brothers, and our mother simply walking out among the airliners and their swirling props to greet my dad on an unlit ramp. That was how life was in the 1950s.
Then, the new terminal opened in 1957, and we went there just to walk around and marvel at how much more modern it was than the old terminal. It was the only terminal ever built in the shape of a dome. In fact, it was two domes side by side. The old terminal was a building sited on a hill just off the end of Runway 30R, and was several stories tall. Once it was no longer used for passengers, the FSS and the National Weather Service occupied the site. The location and height of this building would be a significant detail in my life 22 years later…
On March 9, 1978, I was a company check airman on a Skyway Airlines Beech 99 turboprop flying with Tim Vick, a new captain whom I was supervising by giving him operating experience. Tim was sitting in the left seat with me in the copilot’s seat. It was Tim’s first takeoff as captain with passengers onboard. It was a cold and miserable March day in the St. Louis area with the ceiling at 500 feet and moderate icing in the clouds. We were #15 for takeoff on Runway 30R when the tower offered us a departure at the intersection of Runway 30R and the now-closed Runway 35, which was precisely where we were sitting in line on the taxiway.
According to our company flight ops manual, we needed a minimum of 4,500 feet of runway for an intersection departure, and we had exactly 4,500 feet. We accepted his offer and took off ahead of the other 14 airliners ahead of us, saving almost 30 minutes of taxi time. We then taxied into position and made the takeoff from the runway intersection.
However, just as we broke ground, and at 50 feet AGL, the right engine literally exploded due to a turbine blade failure at 38,500 rpm that took out the rest of the turbine blades. Because of this, the prop immediately auto-feathered. I took the controls from the new captain, but I needed to climb at the best single-engine angle climb speed of 105 knots to clear that old terminal building, which we barely did. In fact, we cleared that building by less than 100 feet!
We requested to remain at or below 500 feet to avoid the moderate icing on one engine. I declared an emergency, circled to my left, and made the engine-out landing on Runway 6. After landing, I noticed that there was a strip of metal sticking out of the right engine’s inboard (left) exhaust nozzle. Later, I pulled this straight strip out of the exhaust nozzle and was shocked when I recognized that prior to the engine failure, it had been a circular ring in the engine’s turbine section that had held about 20 stationary guide vanes.
By the grace of God, the same kind of turbine failure had happened a few years earlier, where the turbine blades had literally blown through the side of the engine and entered the fuselage, killing the copilot. This is officially known as an uncontained turbine failure. Because of this accident, the FAA issued an AD to have a ½-inch-thick titanium shroud mounted around the turbine section to keep the turbine blades from coming through the side of the engine and entering the fuselage. And it was this shroud that saved us.
In spite of the shroud, broken turbine blades had exited the right engine’s inboard exhaust nozzle and hit the fuselage at a 45-degree angle just below where I was sitting, leaving several dents.
A few weeks later, I saw the shroud in our maintenance shop and noticed that it had bubbles on the outside where the broken turbine blades had almost come through.
I think back on that night in 1956 when we met our dad at the old terminal and marvel at the fact that that very building almost killed me 22 years later.
The author in 1975 standing in front of the same Beech 99,N8068R,that experienced an engine explosion on takeoff. Note the inboard turbine exhaust nozzles aimed at a 45-degree angle to the fuselage. Broken turbine blades exited the right engine’s inboard exhaust nozzle striking the fuselage just below where the author was sitting in the right cockpit seat.
Note: See logbook entry written by the author concerning the failure of the right engine on N8068R.
His professional credentials include 5 years as captain, training officer, and chief pilot for a commuter airline where he flew the DC-3, Beech 18, and Beech 99 in scheduled passenger operations, and 6 years as Director of Training for both FlightSafety International and Simuflite’s King Air Division. In addition, Joel flew the King Air 200 as a corporate pilot for 2 years in the DFW area.
Turpin was subsequently hired by United Airlines in 1986 where he flew the Boeing 727, 737, 757 and 767 in both domestic and international operations including 100 oceanic crossings, and several equator crossings. Turpin retired in 2015 at age 65 and currently has some 30,000 hours in his log book.
He is currently employed as captain and chief pilot flying the Pilatus PC-12NG for a company in Pennsylvania. Joel has been a current and active flight instructor since 1970 and teaches instrument flying in a variety of single engine airplanes. Turpin also writes technical articles and conducts seminars for general aviation pilots with an emphasis on instrument flying and airplane systems. In addition, Turpin also writes flying stories based on his personal experiences as a pilot.
In 2016, Joel Turpin earned the FAA Wright Brothers Master Pilot Award for 50 years of flying accident and violation free, and for his contribution to aviation safety for all those years. His professional qualifications include:Airline Transport Pilot License, Certified Flight Instructor with Instrument and Multi-engine ratings, Turbojet Flight Engineer, Advanced Ground Instructor, Type Ratings in the DC-3, B-737, B757 and B-767, and the FAA’s Wright Brothers Master Pilot Award.
He currently lives in Punta Gorda, Florida with his wife, who is a United Airlines flight attendant. While Joel has had an amazing career in aviation spanning over six decades, he still considers himself to be just a general aviation pilot who got lucky.
- Breaking the Chain: Recognizing the Links Before Disaster - January 14, 2026
- A Very Close Call - December 10, 2025
- The Strangest Instrument Approach I Have Ever Flown - August 20, 2025
Did you get feedback from your AMR writeup? At the airlines I worked at that writeup would certainly get my posterior anatomical region called in to the Chief’s office for a debrief. Of sorts. Of course, I’d give it right back to them, but I’d still be there.
Well done and well written. I was a 9 year old when they opened the new terminal. I got to sit in the left seat of a Missouri guard A-26 that they had on display for the event. I lived on a farm not far from Lambert – my father would frequently take me over to plane watch. Distinctly remember the old terminal separated from the flight line by a 4 foot cyclone fence with an unattended gate. Long time ago.