From: greg@bronze.ucs.indiana.edu (Gregory R. TRAVIS)
Subject: N5457E Squawks Hijack
Keywords: Kidnapping Confinement Shotguns Dirty Airplanes
Organization: Indiana University
Date: Tue, 14 Apr 92 22:13:47 GMT

Ahh, another chapter in my turbulent life is drawing to a close.  The
pleas have been entered and now it's time to tell (Paul Harvey voice)

                 _The Rest of the Story_


From today's Bloomington, IN _Herald Tribune_:

"Teen arrested in '91 hijacking pleads guilty to lesser charge"
By Kurt Van der Dussen
H-T Staff Writer

	A Monroe County teen charged with hijacking a private plane
and its pilot at Monroe County Airport last year has agreed to plead
guilty to reduced criminal charges in Monroe County Circuit Court.
	Robert A. Sparks, 18, 670 S. Kirby Road, will be found guilty
of confinement, a lesser felony reduced by plea agreement from
felony kidnapping.  He will be sentenced June 15, following his
graduate from high school.
	Sparks was charged with kidnapping after an incident on the
night of Sept. 22, 1991.  According to police, Sparks took 
pilot Gregory Travis hostage with a shotgun and hijacked his 
private plane, forcing Travis to take off shortly after midnight
on what Sparks wanted to be a flight to Montana.
	Once airborne, Travis transmitted a secret radio code
indicating to Federal Aviation Administration control towers
that he had been hijacked.  When it started to rain, FAA air
controllers tracking him ordered him to divert to Kankakee, ILL., 
where he persuaded Sparks he had to land because of the weather.
	Once on the ground, Travis told police, Sparks seemed to have
second thoughts and decided that perhaps he should turn himself in.
He unloaded his shotgun and left it in the plane and the
two walked into the airport terminal where waiting police arrested
Sparks.
	Though Sparks was 17 at the time, he was charged with 
kidnapping as an adult and was eventually released on $50,000
bond.
	The plea agreement accepted Monday by Judge Elizabeth 
Mann would require Spraks to serve 90 days on work release out
of the Monroe County Jail and receive psychological counseling
for a year.  He could earn reduction of the conviction to
a misdemeanor if he successfully completes probation.
	Monroe County Prosecutor Bob Miller said he agreed to
the plea agreement significantly reducing the charges against
Sparks because of Sparks' psychological problems, his
youth, his lack of any previous criminal record and the
approval of hijack fictim Travis.
	"It was a very bizarre act by a very emotionally
disturbed young man," said Miller.

-------------------end text-------------------------

Ok, so you get the general idea.  Here's an eyewitness account:

The night in question, Saturday September 22, found our hero at the
local airport about 9pm cleaning his plane.  Of all the things I've had to
deal with, explaing what the hell I was doing at the airport on a saturday
night washing my plane has been the most difficult.  For the rec.aviation
record, yes I love my plane.  I also have a real life though and she happened
to be working late that night - we were supposed to rendezvous around
10pm.  At 9 I was just finishing up doing a micro-mesh job to
the windshield and getting ready to head out.

My plane was in its hangar.  The closest source of water was a few hangar
rows away.  I took my tools (bucket, mops, etc) over to rinse them out.
In a few minutes a young man appeared (out of nowhere) with a shotgun and
announced that I was his hostage.  Well, hey, I've been around the track
a few times, been mugged in Cleveland, New York (twice), and San Francisco.
A guy in fatigues with a shotgun in the middle of the midwestern plains
wasn't terribly scary.  So I tried to laugh it off and asked the guy if
he had been hunting, thinking that he was, perhaps, just trying to
see if he could rattle me.

Well, the guy had it bad for somebody.  He wanted to know where the tower
controllers were and if anyone else was at the airport.  No one was, but
I told him the tower controllers would be back VERY soon (they actually
wouldn't be back till 7am the next day) thinking that if he thought people
were going to show up he might beat it.

Turns out he was looking for authority figures to blow away.  He told me he had
tried to kill his boss that night, but couldn't find him.  Heh-heh thinks
I.  So, we were going to wait for the controllers to come back and then
we were all going to be his hostage.  Great, I think, I can't wait to be
part of the unholy mess that'll ensue when this guy has a bunch of
"hostages" and we call the local police out of the doughnut shops with a fresh
load of sugar and caffeine in their systems.

So I ask if we can at least go back to my hangar.  He says OK, but no funny
stuff.  He's real nervous, sweating a lot, says he has lots of weapons.
Fine, I think.  We get to the hangar, he checks it out, we go inside.
I show him my plane he says "We might be going for a ride later."  Bonehead
move on my part I think - I was trying to be freindly and show him that
we could talk about other things than large burnt holes in my body - he
sees it as a transportation device.  I told him it wasn't airworthy - that
I was doing some work.  

We talk for two hours - during which time he is getting more and more antsy
and nervous - starting to wave the gun kind of menacingly at me and stuff.
Wants to know where the controllers are.  I confess that I lied and that they
won't be there until next morning.  I ask him what he wants to do.  He's
not sure.  I am, at this point, getting VERY tired of the whole thing
and want a resolution.  I have this strange feeling that the whole thing
is completely unreal and that he will go away and I can go home and sit
on the toilet and read Chief Aircraft catalogs and drink twenty five
beers. (not in that order)

I think about jumping him a few times.  Not sure what he's got under his
coat.  He intimated that he was packing a pistol also.  Never jumped a
guy with multiple weapons before.  Never really jumped anyone before except
Eric Strobel in fifth grade when he punched me.  I was totally victorious
in that situation.  How about this one?  But, the situation seems to be
relatively stable, although he is getting real antsy.  I ask him if he intends
to kill me.  He says I'll be fine as long as I don't try anything and do as
he asks.  Sounds reasonable.

I suggest that we walk across to the FBO where there is a telephone.  If
he wants, I will call the cops and be his hostage (I am not wild about this
idea - same reasons as above).  Or I can call the FAA, or, or...

We get there.  He sees other airplanes on the rame.  Starrts talking about
how we're going to go to montana in one of them and I am going to
fly.  Should be easy to get it going.

I say that if we're going to do that, let's take mine 'cause I know it
and its condition.  He says "I thought it was broken."  I say that it
is minor and that I can fix it shortly.

[STUPID!  I could have gotten time in the King Air on the ramp, or the
AeroStar, for FREE!!]

We go back to the hangar.  I show him my intrument charts.  Show how
we'll get there.  I told him we only had about 3 hours of fuel because I
had been flying earlier.  Does he want to stop in Indy first where we can get
more fuel?  NO!  He is very agitated by the mere suggestion of going into
a large airport.  I told him we could make it into Iowa (the truth) and land
at the Quad Cities airport which would be open but was smaller than
Indy (not the truth).  He accepts that.

During my preflight of the airplane I reach in and set a certain box.  I am
almost nailed but lie and say I was reaching for a chart (which was next
to the box, thank god.)

I am curiously relieved that we are going flying.  I like flying.  I like
being in my airplane doing things that I understand, even though I am
pretty scared.  I am often scared in my airplane.  It is a normal feeling
in that environment.  I feel, for the first time since 9PM, in control
of the situation even though I have no idea what's going to happen.

We taxi out.  He is sitting in the back set of my 172 with his shotgun (not
pointed at my skull, thanks!)

At this point BMG is VFR clear, it's about midnight.  We
take off and head towards Terre Haute.  The box is blinking in a soothing way.

We have on headphones, but I have not used the radio at all.  I have the
audio turned off because I am afraid someone, somewhere, will yell "Who's
the bozo who's <doing the thing I did to let people know my predicament>"

As I pass over Terre Haute airfield I look down and notice that they are
flashing a red light at the aircraft and also flashing the runway lights.
I do not alert my passenger to this phenomena.

At that point it begins to rain.  I have an excuse to confirm my situation!
I knew that the "radio code" was probably not sufficient to really get them
going.  I tell my passenger that I do not have a good picture of the weather
ahead but that I believe we may encounter some instrument weather and
that if "they" see us flying in instrument weather without a clearance
that "they" will be suspicious and might follow us.  I explain that I will call
Terre haute rado to get the weather and to file a flight plan and that he
can listen to everything and I won't do anything goofy.  He agrees with
the admonition that I "better not try anything."

[Calmest, most normal voice I can muster]

"Terre Haute Radio, Terre Haute Radio, N5457E"

"N5457E Terre Haute, go ahead"

"Terre Haute Radio, N5457E is a C-172 at 4,500' directly over Terre Haute
Northwestbound like to get the weather into, ahh, Montana.  We're doing
110knots, outside temperature 50 degrees, squawking 7500, heading 330"

"57E, roger, right now we're showing generally VFR conditions throughout
although radar indicates a band of showers from Chicago to approximately 100
miles south of your position.  Mostly level one And, 57E, confirm that
you're <doing that thing that makes them so curious>"

<A bit pissed that they tried to blow it for me> "57E, roger, that's
affirmative where does the best area for penetrating that line of
rain seem to be [pre-WX-900 days for 57E don't you know...]"

"Ahh, looks like just south of Chicago is pretty good."

"Roger, I'll call you back with an IFR flightplan."

"Roger"

I thrn turn almost due north so that I am parallel to the line of showers
as I work out a flight plan.  It seems VERY difficult for me.  We are
over Danville, IL when I figure out a route that goes, basically, direct
Kankakee, direct Moline.  My passenger told me he does NOT want to get
too close to Chicago.

I call back Terre haute on the same frequency.  They are very scratchy.
I give them the plan.  They tell me to talk to Chicago Center on XXX.YY
for my clearance.  A few minutes later I call Chicago:

[calm voice like nothing is at all wierd]
"Chicago Center, good evening, Cessna 5457E looking for instruments to
Moline."

"57E, roger, loud and clear, cleared to Moline via radar vectors, climb and
maintain 6,000' verify <doing that thing I was doing that got them so
friendly in the first place>"

[thinking to myself, in a Homer Simpson voice, "Duh-oh!  Radar Vectors!  I
filed to Kankakee so I could avoid the rain he's about to drive me through!
Duh-oh!  Why do they keep asking me if I'm really the bonehead they
think I must be?"]

I am too tired to fight with the controller though and accept his turn direct
Moline.  It is about 1AM now and I am becoming alarmingly fatigued and want
this to be OVER.  It is raining pretty hard now, but the weather does not
bother me at all.  I actually remember thinking how nice it was to fly at night
without worrying about the engine because I am so scared of getting my head
blown off.  My passenger is getting very nervous due to the rain.

"57E, Chicago Center, Moline airport is CLOSED due to a runway light
power failure.  Say intentions."

[What the hell is he talking about?  Is he serious?  Is this some kind
of ploy?  Or is it really closed?  This is a BIG airport after all - I
can't believe it closed because of a "runway light power failure"  What
does he REALLY MEAN?  I am tired.  I don't want to play games.]

I know I am close to the Kankakee airport because I am close to its VORTAC
and I know that Kankakee has a 24-hour FSS but is uncontrolled.  "Perfect" I
think, "Knowledgeable aviation professionals will see to it that the plane
is completely surrounded by able-bodied SWAT members and Secret Service
agents as soon as I leave the active.  Yet, the size of the airport
will not alarm my passenger on approach."

I brief my passenger that we are running low on fuel and should land at
Kankakee where we can get fuel.  "Have we been flying that long?" he
asks "Yes, says I - we've been flying nearly two hours"  He heard them
say Moline was closed.  I tell him that we should be able to
get fuel at Kankakee and be on our way.

"Chicago Center, 57E, we're running low on fuel [we actually had over an hour
left] - we would like to land at Kankakee."

"57E, Chicago, Roger, turn right 350 plan the ILS 5 [I believe] into
Kankakee."

"57E, we'll plan on the ILS 5."  [I get set up]

"57E, Chicago, India Kilo Kilo [Kankakee] has no 100Lima Lima, suggest you
try Peoria.  Turn left now, 280 vectors Peoria."

[What the F*ck?  "100Lima Lima" is that some kind of code?  Why didn't
he just say "fuel" or 100 "Low lead"  What does "Lima Lima" mean in
this context?  How does he know?  Are they playing games again?  What
DO they want?]

Peoria is NOT going to work though.  I know it is a LARGE airport and that
it will alarm my passenger to go there.  I am also under the [mistaken]
impression that it is quite a wayfurther and I have a genuine concern that
I do not have sufficient fuel to make it there.  Turns out that it
is actually very close.  Anyway, I am MUCH too tired to drag out the
flightplans, etc. for Peoria and figure out how to get there.

"57E, negative.  We're going to land at Kankakee and see what we
can find."

"57E, roger, turn right heading 350 vectors for the ILS"

The ILS is very close by and very routine.  It is raining very hard, but out
of a high overcast.  I pick up the runway just past the outer marker inbound.

I do not realize it, but we are moving with the wind.  Final is very bumpy.
Touchdown is not the best landing I've ever made, although the plane and
passengers survive.

Now I'm wondering what's going to happen.  I realize that my dream of
agents in blackface behind every bush and building may not have been
the most realistic thing.  The airport seems deserted.  We taxi to the
ramp.  I am beginning to wonder if its really going to come to an
end here or if, nightmares, we'll take off again with a full load of
fuel for Montana.

At this point a cruiser appears without its lights on.  My passenger sees it.
It is a ways away from us I say "Looks like the airport patrol.  Pretty
standard.  They're just looking for drunk teenagers necking on the
runway."  Like even drunk teenagers would neck in the pouring rain.

We get out, I explain that there is a weather office across the road where
we could get a weather briefing and that he can come and I won't pull any
funny stuff.  He says he;'s going to leave the shotgun in the plane.
I wonder what that means?  Is he giving up?  He starts to talk about
those whole thing being pretty dumb.  I tell him it's all up to him but I
do not like standing in the open so let's go to the FSS.

We pass several large bushes.  No agents jump out.  What's going on?  I see
behind us that the cop has started cruising up and down the runway
WITH HIS LIGHTS ON.  I do not point this out.  We go to the FSS and enter:

	THE ROOM OF THE STONEFACED BRIEFERS.

"Hello, I need a briefing for an instrument flight to Montana [where are
the cops?]"

They mechanically peck at they keyboard.  FINALLY two of Kankakee's finest
enter the room, no BURST into the room.  The briefer nods at us.  We are both
grabbed, handcuffed and taken outside where we are thrown against a wall
and frisked.

I do not look at my passenger.  I feel ashamed that I have betrayed him.

It takes the cops 15 minutes to sort out who is who.  I produce a checkbook
and my wallet bearing my name and demonstrate to the police how that name
matches the registration in the airplane.  Passing this hurdle earns me a ride
in the FRONT seat of the squad car.  Hijackers ride in back!

The police confiscate the gun and some shells from my aircraft.

-----  NEXT:  Ordeal at Kankakee    -or-
              "You don't need no stinking pillow Pilot-Boy!"



greg
-- 
Gregory Reed Travis					D P S I
	
Data Parallel Systems Incorporated	greg@cica.indiana.edu