Volume 5, No. 7

             Aggies filled Reed Arena April 21, solemn and respectful of the first Muster of the millennium - each with their individual thoughts of the loved ones and friends they had lost over the last year. There were those young, vivacious souls taken as they walked to a fraternity party on Highway 60, and of course the 12 lost on Nov. 18, all pathfinders on their way from childhood to adulthood, excited by their journey.

             Lt. Col. Ray Toler stood among the crowd, sharing both a tear and a pride that flowed understandably heavier than at past Musters. "They could be calling my name tonight," he thought.

             Forty-one days later on June 1, 2000, the Fighin' Texas Aggie Band director participated in another type of Muster, this time at the edge of an airport runway.

             That night at 11:51 p.m., Toler and other survivors gathered in a yellowed Little Rock field, precisely at the time and at the spot where one year earlier their lives had been bonded forever by the crash of American Flight 1420. They bowed and prayed for the pilot and 10 passengers who had died that stormy night.

             "We had candles," Toler said, "and I stood there and couldn't help but think of Aggie Muster."

RIDING INTO THE STORM

             For the Director of the Aggie Band, one of Texas A&M's most visible entities, the dog days come in June. If there's time to take off, it had to be now. Final preparation for the following fall's football routines was fast approaching. Ray Toler found this first week of the summer month the perfect opportunity to spend a few days with his son and daughter-in-law Eric and Rachel, and to steal a few hugs from his four grandkids.

             Catherine Toler stayed home this time. Ray hoped for a routine trip - the short afternoon flight from Easterwood Airport to D/FW Airport and then the quick connection to American 1420 to Little Rock, scheduled to arrive at 9:41 p.m.

             Nothing, however, went as scheduled that Tuesday. Rain and thunder storms bathed most of the southern United States, from the Rio Grand Valley north up I-35 to the D/FW Metroplex and even further north to Tornado Alley and points east into Arkansas and Missouri.

             Because of the weather in Dallas, American Eagle flights from Dallas to College Station were delayed, so Toler and the rest of the DFW-bound passengers waited at McKenzie Terminal for nearly two hours before their plane arrived to take them back north. He thought several times about canceling his plans for the day, and maybe try it Wednesday, when the weather might be calmer over his route.

             The 45-minute flight to Dallas wasn't smooth, but it was nothing Toler or most of the other passengers hadn't experienced before on this commuter that normally makes nine trips per day to the big city. He was surprised to find that he had not missed his connecting flight to Little Rock, as Flight 1420 had also been delayed for more than two hours because of bad weather in central Arkansas.

             "They told us at the gate at D/FW that it would still be an hour or an hour and a half before the plane left," Toler said. "They thought the weather in Arkansas would clear by then."

             It never did. And what transpired over the next few hours would change Toler's fate and faith in flying forever.

             As Toler boarded the MD-82, he was concerned about his seat assignment on the Little Rock-bound flight.

             "I had been assigned the middle seat in row 18, so I asked the agent if there was possibly an aisle seat available," Toler said. "She said, 'We have one left, it's in the back, 29-D.' I didn't particularly like sitting in the rear of the plane, but it was better than a middle seat so I took it."

             Moments later came the next surprise as the agent announced that they were boarding the plane immediately, as a window of opportunity had opened up in the weather. The pilot, Captain Richard Buschmann, wanted to take advantage of the break in the weather, opting for a quick getaway from the gate.

             The rush was evident as the plane started back from the gate before all the passengers had stowed their luggage. Ray Toler had just pulled on his seat belt at 29-D in the right rear of the cabin, noticing to his right a sergeant returning home from Korea; to his left, across the aisle, was the plane's galley, the rear emergency door and the flight attendant's flip down seat. In front of him, in row 28, sat three of the 20 traveling members of the Ouachita Baptist University choral group that was returning from a concert tour of Europe.

             Rain and some lightning lingered in north Texas as the MD-82 climbed through the storm clouds to its cruising altitude.

             "It was bumpy getting out of Dallas but not too bad," Toler recalled. "It didn't take long for the ride to start getting bad and then worse. The captain came on and said that the attendants would start serving beverages but that he was going to keep the seat belt sign on. Then less than two minutes later, he came on again and said he wanted everybody to stay in their seats with seat belts on, warning us of some bad weather ahead."

             Ten minutes into the flight, 1420 leveled off, and a roller coaster ride started.

             "It just got rougher and rougher and rougher," Toler added. "The closer we got to Little Rock, the worse it got. It felt like we were literally bouncing all over the sky."

             The storms caused unstable air and thermal heat pockets that pushed the jet violently up and down and side to side. The passengers sat mostly quiet, the silence that comes from honest fright. Even the most experienced flyer, like a retired Air Force Colonel with Vietnam experience, knew they were no longer in a routine bumpy flight.

             Already becoming the most turbulent flight he had ever experienced, Toler calmed the fears of three young choir members in the row in front of him. "I've been on rough flights before. everything will be OK," he said.

             The 135 passengers took a firm grip for the terrifying final 10 minutes of flight 1420. Toler's uneasiness grew as fierce hail storm engulfed the jetliner.

             "I was looking out the window and could see hail - some the size of grapefruit bouncing off the wing," he said. "The rain was blinding, and it was almost continuous light because of the lightning. The flight attendant told me that most likely we were going to divert to Nashville or Memphis because Capt. Buschmann had mentioned that to her earlier in the flight. I kept thinking the whole time that surely he will do that. surely he will pull up at any time. People were crying, screaming and praying."

HORROR AND HEROISM

             In the final 10 minutes, Captain Buschmann made two announcements. At one point he commented that passengers on the left side of the plane would see "the greatest light show you've ever seen." Moments later, he announced that the storms had provided a "bowling alley effect" giving the plane a clear path to the Little Rock Airport. He said they were going to land flight 1420.

             Ray Toler wasn't so sure. "The weather was still horrid, and I wasn't at all certain we were going to make it. I believed the plane would crash. All the way down, I was still thinking, 'Surely he's going to abort, surely he's going to abort."

             FAA transcripts of communication between the Little Rock tower and the cockpit revealed later that Capt. Buschmann was warned several times about level five storms and wind shear in the airport area. At 11:46 p.m., about 35 minutes into the flight, wind gusts of 87 mph were recorded at the Little Rock airport. FAA policy is that the captain makes the final decision on whether to land or not land.

             Just seconds before landing, the cockpit lost sight of the runway. Instead of touching down on line with the runway, 1420 landed at a 45-degree angle, nose wheel first. The jet careened off the runway and then found its way back on. But the spoilers (the flaps that pop up from the wings to slow the plane after landing) did not deploy, and the captain's attempt to use the reverse thrusters failed to slow the plane as it skidded and weaved down the slab. The plane rolled 5,200 feet, and when it left the end of the runway, it was traveling in excess of 100 mph. Flight 1420 ended when the massive jet crashed into the immovable steel landing-light structure off the banks of the Arkansas River.

             As the plane raced out of control, Toler faced his mortality.

             "I figured it was my time," Toler said. "As quickly as it all happened from the time we hit the ground to the when we hit the light standard, I thought about how we had just had a family reunion with all the kids at Lake Livingston. I had told them all several times how much I loved them and cared for them. It crossed my mind that I was right with my family and with everyone else. If this was it, I could go with it."

             Upon impact with the landing light structure, the back section of the fuselage broke from the plane and snapped violently to the left, the tremendous G-forces sent Toler's ribcage hard against the armrest, cracking several ribs.

             The pain not only was evidence he was hurt, but evidence, for now, that he was still alive.

             "I immediately got a mental grasp on everything that had happened, and I was surprised that I was alive," he said. "At that time, a fire came rolling down the aisle."

             The fireball originated at the wings, at row 18, Toler's original seating location. The fire stopped after several rows, but then started a steady crawl toward the tail section where he sat strapped in 29-D. Blinding and choking smoke filled the area; the impact had crushed the left side of the plane in toward the aisle; and Toler found himself literally nose-to-nose with the flight attendant.

             Toler managed to free the seat-belted attendant from her seat, and the two rushed to the back of the plane to try the rear door, now lying on the soaked ground. They came back forward to the galley door and found it had been jarred open from the top by about four inches.

             "Another fella and I started pulling down on that door as hard as we could," Toler said. "We got it opened about 10 inches but no more."

             Not knowing if it was a large enough escape route, they told the smaller flight attendant to go first. They helped her through the opening head first. Through the heavy smoke, they could see her feet disappear. In the next few minutes, Toler estimates he helped 10 to 15 people through the 10-inch opening.

             "The guy who went right before me was a bigger man, and I was really thinking I should go before him in case he got stuck," Toler said. "But luckily, he squeezed through."

             Throughout his rescue effort, Toler bent down constantly to gasp at the only pocket of unpolluted air he could find. Finally, he took one more look around him, searching for any movement through the thickening smoke, knelt down for one more lungful of air and climbed through the gap. It was almost midnight, and until now, he had no idea the scene that waited outside the plane.

             "It was about a 15-foot drop through exposed wires and twisted metal," Toler added. "I figured I'd cut my self up pretty good. I hit the ground hard, bumped my head and broke bones in my wrist and hand. But my first thought was how wonderful the fresh air was.

             "I knew I had to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible. I thought the plane would explode at any time. I started walking but the further I walked, the deeper I was getting into water. I knew I had to go in another direction, so I veered around to my right and walked in the direction of the front of the plane, staying about 30 yards from the plane. I chose the right direction because the water wasn't as deep."

             Ray Toler doesn't think of himself as a hero for helping save the lives of a dozen or so people that night. He chalks it up to old boy scout and Air Force training kicking in.

             "I didn't do it for heroism," he said. "I was just trying to get as many people out of the plane as I could. But this is the truth, I really didn't think I was going to get out of the plane. I thought either the smoke would overcome me or the fire would catch me."

             Despite escaping from the plane, the danger was not over. The weather had worsened.

             "It was absolutely horrible," Toler said. "Still pounding rain, wind and unbelievable lightening. I honestly thought we were in a tornado. I remember thinking, 'I've survived this plane crash, and now I'm going to get struck by lightning'. Most of the passengers were sitting on and around these hay bails, just trying to avoid the lightning until help arrived. Many were crying for their loved ones they couldn't find, and some were singing 'Amazing Grace.'"

             Because of some ill-timed miscommunication, the first emergency vehicles did not arrive on the scene for 18 to 20 minutes. Toler thought he was one of the lucky ones as he boarded a bus for the airport fire station. Once there, he immediately found a phone and called his wife Catherine. "The plane crashed, but I'm alright," he told her. "There were others waiting for the phone so I told her I loved her, and I'd call her back soon."

             Toler wasn't as "alright" as he thought. After an EKG was administered, he was rushed to the hospital with a blood pressure of just 60 over 30. After four days in intensive care, one day in a private room, and eight days recovering at his son's home in Cabot, he returned home to College Station with Catherine at his side.

             Toler is quick to credit the Aggie spirit for his recovery from the very start. Then Former Students executive director Randy Matson and A&M vice president for student affairs Dr. Malon Southerland quickly arranged for a private jet to take Catherine to her husband's side. She arrived there about 11 a.m. "

             There's no way to describe how I felt when she walked into the room," Toler said. "After I got home, I received literally thousands of letters and cards and over 200 e-mails."

THE LITTLE ROCK REUNION

             The crash of American 1420 took 11 lives and injured 82. Miraculously, 51 passengers walked away physically unhurt. Among those lost were the pilot Richard Buschmann. His decision to land 1420 despite warnings of severe storms and wind shear is the subject of still ongoing litigation brought against American Airlines by the families of those killed and dozens of passengers, including Ray Toler.

             Also killed was 16-year-old Rachel Fuller, one of those Ouachita Baptist choir members seated in row 28, whom Toler had tried to reassure during the flight. When the plane came to a stop, she rushed up the aisle to where her parents Cindy Fuller and Charlie Fuller, the choral group's director, were sitting. Rachel ran into the fireball. She died two weeks later.

             At the reunion of survivors of flight 1420 last June 1, Charlie Fuller spoke most eloquently of his daughter and the survivors who had bonded via the internet over the previous 12 months.

             "He was a very impressive gentlemen," Toler said. "I wasn't sure at first if I could go to the reunion, but I'm glad I did. It did provide some closure for a lot of us."

             Some element of June 1, 1999, passes through Ray Toler's mind every day, and he knows that will be the case for the rest of his life. Once a regular customer on commercial airlines and a man who implicitly trusted the training of professional pilots, Toler admits now that he will hesitate to fly ever again.

             When he speaks of 1420, he speaks slowly, in measured and cracking tones of sadness and respect for a defining day of his life and his faith. He does not know why he was chosen to live, only that God had other plans for him.

             Toler also realized the power of the Aggie spirit, the one that permeates each April during Muster.

             "I don't know how it could deepen my appreciation for Aggies, but it did," Toler said. "I don't know how it could deepen my love for my family, but it did."