The Plane That Lost Its Roof At 24,000ft

This is the Boeing 737-297, the plane that lost its roof at 24,000ft in the air. This is exactly how it looked when it landed at Kahului Airport, on April 28th, 1988. The 95 souls onboard experienced one of the most horrifying flights of their life, when the roof of the airplane ruptured, at 24,000 feet in the air, leaving nothing between them and the blue sky above.

This is their story, the story of the Aloha Airlines Flight 243 – one of the most significant events in the history of aviation, which changed the rules of aging airplanes forever.

It was a beautiful day for flying

It is April 28th, 1988 – a typical sunny Hawaiian day at the Hilo International Airport. The ground maintenance crew inspects the Boeing 737-297 (FAA registration N73711), set to depart that afternoon on a short 35-minute flight to Honolulu Island. The airplane, affectionately nicknamed ‘Queen Liliuokalani’, is the 152nd Boeing 737 airframe ever built, and it belongs to Aloha Airlines, a regional air transport company connecting the beautiful Hawaiian Islands.

Established back in 1946, Aloha Airlines had quickly become the lifeline connecting the beautiful islands of the North Pacific Ocean. For over six decades it ferried passengers across the Hawaiian archipelago, becoming a part of the island life until it ceased operations in 2008. The Hilo-to-Honolulu route was especially popular, often filled with regular travelers who knew the crew by name and greeted them like old friends.

As the ground maintenance crew completes their routine pre-departure inspection, nothing seems amiss. Captain Robert Schornstheimer and First Officer Madeline “Mimi” Tompkins conduct their pre-flight checks inside the cockpit, verifying that the aircraft’s instruments and controls are functioning correctly.

The ‘Queen Liliuokalani’ had already flown three round-trip flights that day, hopping between Honolulu, Hilo, Maui, and Kauai without a hitch. Each journey had been smooth and uneventful.

The weather team confirms clear skies and calm winds, ideal for a pleasant flight. But little did they know, this flight would soon become anything but pleasant.

The takeoff

90 passengers begin boarding the plane at around 14:00. Welcoming them is veteran flight attendant Purser Clarabelle (CB) Lansing, together with Jane Sato-Tomita and Michelle Honda, who have been working for Aloha for 14 years.

As passenger Gayle Yamamoto steps onto the plane through the forward door, her eyes catch a glimpse of what appears to be a large crack in the fuselage. She hesitates for a moment, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. But then, she reassures herself that the crew and maintenance personnel must have everything under control. Not wanting to cause a scene, she keeps her worries to herself and quietly takes her designated seat, hoping for a smooth and uneventful flight.

36-year-old Madeline Lynn Tompkins is the first officer on board. She holds an Airline Transport certificate and has accumulated 8,000 flight hours, with 3,500 of those hours in the B-737. The aircraft commander follows her in the cockpit. He is a seasoned airline transport pilot with over 8,500 flight hours, including 6,700 hours in the Boeing 737. A Federal Aviation Administration air traffic controller also joins the flight deck as an observer that afternoon.

At 14:25 Hawaii-Aleutian Time (HST), Aloha Airlines Flight 243 departs from Hilo International Airport with 5 crew members and 90 passengers on board, bound for Honolulu. First Officer Tompkins handles the takeoff, guiding the plane smoothly into the sky. In clear visual conditions, they ascend to 24,000 feet, reaching cruising altitude by around 13:48.

Meanwhile, in the cabin, the flight attendants spring into action, beginning the in-flight service. After flight attendant Michelle Honda finishes her duties, she decides to grab some lunch, and joins her colleagues in the galley. Lansing, the senior flight attendant, is still busy in the cabin responding to passengers’ requests.

13:48

It’s 13:48, and the plane has just settled into its normal cruising altitude. Captain Robert Schornstheimer stretches his legs, anticipating a smooth, uneventful flight to Honolulu. But fate has other plans.

Without warning, the aircraft starts to sway violently from side to side. The controls in the cockpit go loose leaving the pilots struggling to regain control. First Officer Tompkins’s eyes widen as she notices fragments of gray insulation floating in the cockpit. The cockpit door breaks open, revealing a breathtaking yet terrifying sight outside.

At the same moment, Eric Becklin, a passenger seated at the back of the aircraft, hears a loud bang followed by a sudden, intense pressure change. Instinctively, she looks towards the front of the plane and is horrified by what she sees. The upper left section of the aircraft is disintegrating before her eyes, pieces of it tearing away and vanishing into the blue sky. What started as a small hole about a yard wide rapidly expands, the fuselage continuing to come apart.

The blast strikes flight attendant Honda on the left shoulder, knocking her to the ground. Screams erupt throughout the cabin, followed by an eerie silence and a sense of collective shock.

Chief Flight Attendant Lansing is nowhere to be found; she was last seen standing in the aisle at Row 5. Now, that part of the plane has no roof other than the big blue sky.

Amid the chaos, Honda regains her senses and spots her colleague, Jane Sato-Tomita, lying unconscious and bleeding in the aisle, dangerously close to the gaping hole. Jane’s head is nearly split open, debris scattered around her. Desperately, Honda tries to drag her to safety but lacks the strength, and asks the passengers seated around her to try and hold her down.

After the initial shock, passengers and crew begin to grasp the horrifying reality: an explosive decompression has ripped off a large section of the roof, exposing the cabin to the open sky. The missing section extends from just behind the cockpit to the fore-wing area, spanning about 18.5 feet.

Amidst the chaos, Honda watches the smoke-like vapor of the debris—paper, fiberglass, and asbestos—swirling violently through the open cabin like a white blizzard. She tries to yell, “Heads down!”, but no sound comes out. She cannot keep her eyes open for too long as the flying debris can push into her eyes or throat even when she’s trying to speak. That’s also when she realizes that her shoes are nowhere to be found.

Is anyone still flying this thing?

After the initial shock wears off, flight attendant Michelle Honda starts crawling around the aircraft floor, checking on passengers. She makes sure everyone is strapped in, wearing life jackets, and has oxygen masks on. The cabin is a mess, with two more large ceiling panels having come loose and landed on passengers’ heads.

The intense strain buckles the floor, blocking the view of the cockpit. A scary thought crosses her mind: are the pilots still up there, or were they thrown out in the explosion? Is anyone still flying this thing?

Honda crawls to the rear and tries to call the pilots, but the interphone cables have been caught off in the explosion. Panic starts to set in as everyone sees the island of Maui looming ahead. They fear the worst—that they’re going to crash right into it.

But then, something incredible happens. The plane begins to veer to the right, like it’s preparing to land. A glimmer of hope appears. Could they actually make it through this?

Bringing it home

Back in the cockpit, captain Schornstheimer and First Officer Tompkins also notice the blue-sky where the first-class roof used to be. Despite the panic, their years of training kick in and, like in a dream, they put on their oxygen masks and proceed to land the airplane safely.

They know that the first priority is to get the plane to a lower altitude where passengers can breathe. Captain Schornstheimer takes over the controls from Tompkins and fights the plane, as it rolls left and right, in a loose manner.

First officer Tompkins, maintaining her composure, calls for an immediate emergency descent, and the captain expertly manages to maneuver the aircraft down to 10,000 feet within minutes.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday, Aloha 243, declaring emergency. We have rapid decompression. Requesting immediate diversion to Kahului Airport”.

Air traffic control responds calmly, giving clearance for an emergency landing at Kahului Airport. But it’s not easy sailing. As they approach the Kahului Airport, debris from the fuselage damages the left engine, causing it to shut down completely. The aircraft shudders, but Schornstheimer and Tompkins remain focused. They have trained for such emergencies, but training can never beat such reality.

As they approach the Kahului Airport, the crew has no idea whether the nose gear lowered correctly or not. But they have no time to confirm, they must prepare for the worst. Schornstheimer guides the plane towards Runway 2. The minutes stretch into eternity as the runway draws closer.

Inside the cockpit, you could cut the tension with a knife, but the captain’s hands are steady on the controls. Tompkins, as well, supports him every step of the way. They both know that the lives of the other 93 souls on board are in their hands.

As the runway looms into view, the passengers brace themselves. The plane touches down with a big thud, but miraculously, the nose gear holds it on the runway until the aircraft finally comes to a halt. The ordeal, which lasted for just over 10 minutes, is finally over.

“We made it! We made it!”

Just as the aircraft kisses the runway at 13:58 HST, flight attendant Honda starts yelling: “We made it! We made it!”

Emergency personnel on the ground cannot believe their eyes when they see the damaged plane landed safely on the ground.

“There was part of it missing. The whole top of the fuselage was gone…I didn’t possibly think that this plane could land”, said Larry Miller, Aloha Airlines assistant station manager at that time.

Amy Jones-Brown, an off-duty crew member, fights her way free from her seat, and joins Flight Attendant Michelle Honda, who is already in the midst of evacuating the injured.

65 people are injured, 8 of them with serious injuries. The ground response teams are overwhelmed by the scale of the emergency. Maui is a tiny island that has only 2 ambulances available.

But air traffic control reaches out to Akami Tours, a local company, and they send their passenger vans, driven by office personnel and mechanics, to the site. Two of the drivers, former paramedics, quickly set up a triage on the runway, bringing some order to the chaos.

Injuries vary widely among the passengers. Those in the first-class seats 2A and 2C are more serious, having lacerations or electrical shock burns from the exposed wiring in the cabin.

The passengers in window seats of 4A and 4F are also mildly-serious with concussions or deep cuts. Those in the center and aisle seats of row 4, along with rows 5, 6, and 7, also suffered from concussions and multiple lacerations. An elderly woman positioned in seat 5A unfortunately had a fractured skull, while the passengers in 6A had a broken arm.

Rows 8 to 21 fare slightly better, with most sustaining minor injuries such as abrasions, cuts, and barotrauma from the sudden pressure change. Remarkably, 25 people escaped without any physical injuries whatsoever.

Maui’s emergency responders adapt quickly. “We were shuttling more than one person in the ambulance at a time,” recalls Mr. Miller, a responder, to The Maui News. “We did what we had to do to get people to the hospital.”

Everyone on board survived, apart from one person – first flight assistant Clarabelle Lansing.

“Nobody saw her leave”, said her flight attendant colleague, Honda.

Later on, in the following days, a couple who were seated in the first-class section of the airplane said that Lansing was actually serving them a drink when the roof of the plane blew off, and she was immediately thrown out into the blue sky.

For three days, search teams scoured the waters and rugged terrain surrounding Maui, hoping to find any trace of her. But the effort proved fruitless.

The Aftermath

The incidents of the Flight 243 revealed previously overlooked concerns regarding the longevity and airworthiness of an aging aircraft.

With 35,496 flight hours and a staggering 89,680 flight cycles under its belt- more than twice the cycles it was designed for – the 19-year-old Boeing 737 was actually a ticking time bomb. It’s not as much about the 35,496 flight hours, as it’s the flight cycles.

You see, the Boeing 737 in question was flying on very short distances, and hadn’t accumulated too many hours. But, each flight cycle, consisting of a takeoff and landing, subjects the aircraft to significant stress. The repeated pressurization and depressurization of the cabin, combined with the physical stresses of takeoffs and landings, gradually weakened the aircraft’s structural components.

“We had never seen airplanes flying for so many years or enduring so many flight cycles under these specific conditions,” recalls Jeff Marcus, chief of safety recommendations for the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB). “Unfortunately, many lessons in aviation are learned through tragedy. The incident with Aloha Airlines provided far-reaching insights.”

On its final flight, the Boeing 737 suffered a catastrophic event known as explosive decompression, triggered by structural failure and fatigue cracking. These issues were worsened by the tropical climate and the aircraft’s intense usage.

But what exactly is explosive decompression?

Normally, as a plane ascends, the outside air pressure drops, so systems maintain cabin pressure at comfortable levels for us humans inside. When the plane’s metal skin fails, the pressurized air inside rapidly escapes, resulting in a violent and sudden decompression.

During Flight 243’s explosive decompression, a significant portion of the airplane’s outer skin blew off, seriously compromising the aircraft’s structural integrity.

Another, even more terrifying theory was suggested by pressure vessel engineer Matt Austin. He pointed out that the fuselage may have initially failed in a way that created a small vent, through which flight attendant Clarabelle “C.B.” Lansing became lodged. This created a temporary seal, causing a dangerous surge of pressure back into the plane—a phenomenon known as a fluid hammer effect. This sudden pressure surge further damaged the weakened fuselage, tearing it open.

Even so, several fortunate coincidences helped ensure the survival of the 94 passengers onboard. Parts of the aircraft’s skin remained attached, holding the nose of the airplane in place. Although the plane sustained significant damage to its wings, tail, and left engine, it still managed to remain airborne, allowing the crew to guide it back to safety.

Investigators later found other fatigue cracking around the rivets, and even a passenger of the Flight 243 had noticed a longitudinal fuselage crack before boarding. This crack, located in the upper row of rivets along the S-10L lap joint, should have been a red flag, but she never brought it up, not wanting to create a fuss.

The NTSB’s investigation concluded that the accident could have been prevented with more rigorous safety inspections and protocols. The official report blamed both Aloha Airlines for inadequate maintenance supervision and the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA)for failing to properly evaluate the airline’s maintenance program and inspection deficiencies.

However, it would be unfair to lay all the blame on human error. This incident represented uncharted territory in aviation. Hazel Courteney, the president of the International Federation of Airworthiness, told The Independent that, even Boeing’s guidance wasn’t fit for an airplane operating in those tropical conditions, and at such a high flight cycle rate.

Significant Change

In simple terms, the 1988 incident led to big changes in how we look at airplane safety. People started focusing more on how airplanes age and how to keep them safe from aging damage.

The Aloha Airlines Flight 243 incident showed that just looking at the plane is not enough to find all problems. Visually inspecting big areas of a plane can get really tedious, and after many times without finding anything, it’s natural to assume there won’t be any issues.

Also, the conditions for inspectors, like standing on scaffolding, awkward positions, carrying gear, using safety harnesses, lighting, and temperature, can also affect how well they can do their job.

Because of this, more advanced methods like eddy current and ultrasonic inspections were adopted to find cracks and weaknesses that can’t be seen by just looking.

For example, eddy currents are loops of electrical current induced within conductors by a changing magnetic field. In aircraft inspections, they use a probe that generates a magnetic field, creating eddy currents in the metal. Changes in these currents indicate the presence of flaws or defects, allowing inspectors to effectively find cracks and weaknesses without damaging the aircraft.

After the Aloha accident, the FAA found cracks in planes across the whole Boeing fleet, showing that the problem wasn’t just with Aloha Airlines. This put a serious spotlight on the importance of the structural integrity of airplanes. Manufacturers began researching new materials and building techniques to make planes last longer, be stronger and safer.

Moreover, the FAA and other regulatory bodies around the world updated their rules for plane inspections and maintenance to prevent similar incidents and improve overall safety standards in aviation. This is the legacy of the Aloha Airlines Flight 243.

Remembering flight attendant Lansing

Clarabelle C.B. Lansing was the senior flight attendant that lost her life when the roof of that fateful Boeing  737 was ripped off.

She had already dedicated so much of her life to the airline and its passengers. Former station manager Mr. Miller remembered her fondly, saying, “She was the nicest old-timer there who knew her customers, her regulars. She called them by their first names. She called me by my first name. That was something to me. She was total Aloha customer service. She was the textbook model of a good stewardess”, always wearing “a garden of flowers in her hair”, and fittingly, there’s a memorial garden named for Lansing Honolulu International Airport.

The second flight attendant, Michelle Honda was also a true heroine. Despite her injuries, she crawled along the aircraft floor, checking on passengers, making sure they were strapped in, wearing life jackets, and comforting the injured. On the ground, she led a successful evacuation and even visited her passengers at the hospital twice to check on their progress. Her heroic efforts helped ensure that no passengers lost their lives that day.

The NTSB also praised the pilots’ actions and the flight attendants, saying the crew’s bravery in moving about to reassure the passengers and prepare them for landing was “exemplary.