UAL 232 Hero Tries To Save Another Life -- His Daughter's
Al Haynes is something
of a god to a lot of pilots -- commercial, charter and GA. He's the
man who wouldn't quit, who flew right up to the edge of the
envelope, then over.
Not that Haynes wanted to. It was probably the last thing on his
mind when he took off aboard United Flight 232 on July 19,
1989.
Shortly after an engine malfunction severed the hydraulic lines
on Haynes' DC-10, he could have given up. He didn't. Only able to
make left turns, and sloppy ones at that, Haynes and his crew did
the impossible, guiding the crippled jetliner to the airport in
Sioux City (IA). The landing wasn't pretty -- 112 people were
killed in a ball of fire. But many more were saved, thanks to
Haynes determination and resourcefulness.
Now Haynes, who is 72, is fighting to save another life. His
daughter's.
"I wouldn't say it's worse," the retired pilot says. "It's very
bad, of course, and it makes you think a lot."
Laurie Haynes Arguillo, 39, has something called aplastic
anemia. In short, her bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood
cells -- red or white -- for her to survive. She needs a marrow
transplant.
You'd think Haynes' had already seen enough tragedy to last a
lifetime. But no. His wife died three years ago. One of his three
children, a son, died in a motorcycle wreck seven years ago. And
yet, the man who struggled mightily to save the lives of 296 people
aboard Flight 232 that day over Iowa continues struggling today,
hoping to get Laurie the transplant she needs to survive.
"To say it's worse than
what happened before, it's my family, it's my daughter, and, of
course, it's very close," Haynes says. "I still feel badly about
what happened in '89. We did all we could. We just couldn't do
enough. We hope this isn't the case here. We hope we can do enough
here to do more good."
Indeed, a donor has been found, someone whose own bone marrow
can be tapped to save Laurie's life. But the operation and
after-care will cost $300,000. Sure, Haynes has been on the
speaking circuit since 1989, but has always donated his fees to
charity, never keeping a dime.
"I do the talks because I feel I have to. You have to talk.
You've got to talk about what's wrong, what's happening. ... The
more you talk about it, the more you can accept what happened. It's
the same with my daughter. She's got the same feeling I do. We're
going to face it. If we can fix it, fine. If not, that's just the
way it goes."
Already, the fundraising effort has netted $60,000 in just three
weeks. But that's just a fraction of what's needed. If you can
help, send a check to:
NFT for Laurie Arguello
P.O. Box 7781
Covington, WA 98042