757 vs. My Chevy Astro: Airport Driving Stories From JFK
Close Calls, Speeding Tickets, and Minivan Mayhem on the Airfield
Driving around a major airport is a dream for any aviation enthusiast who works at an airport, but it can also be quite unnerving. If you work at an airport and don’t feel at least a little panic about crossing paths with a large aircraft on the ramp, you might not be taking safety seriously enough.
The military charter airline I worked for almost 20 years ago was based at New York’s JFK Airport, using Terminal 4 for our aircraft operations. Our fleet of vehicles included two large Ford Econoline passenger vans, a few Chevy Astro minivans, and something that looked like a party bus that almost surely required a class of driver’s license that no one at my company had. I also had a custodian-sized keyring that held the keys to all of them.
Low Speed Pursuit
There are many rules to airport driving. The speed limit around Terminal 4 was a blistering 5 miles per hour—so when I was clocked at a reckless 10 mph by someone in Terminal 4 operations, I was pulled over and they wrote me up a “Breach of Rules” (BOR) ticket.
There was no fine for this ticket, but my boss and I did have to meet with a terminal executive to discuss the matter and determine if I would be allowed to drive out there again. Obviously, if the Terminal decided my driving privileges would be revoked, my company would also have to revoke my employment. Thankfully, it turned out in my favor.
Captain–Errr, Flight Attendant Morgan
When driving beyond the terminal or close to taxiways, you must stay within “vehicle service roads” which are just painted on the surface, bordered with “zipper lines.” They had a speed limit of 10 miles per hour, which meant that it took about 20 minutes to drive from Terminal 4 to our offices at “Building 75” on the northeast side of the airport.
One time at the office, a flight attendant approached me and said that she bought a bottle of rum in Jamaica and left it in the galley of one of our 757s parked at Terminal 4. She asked, pretty please, if I would go drive out to the aircraft to get it. I said no, as something felt wrong about it, but I relented when she begged and begged.
It took me just under an hour to get to the aircraft and back, which included pushing stairs to the closed aircraft at the hardstand, searching for the bottle on the aircraft, and then waiting for a (gorgeous) Cathay Pacific 777 to slowly cross in front of me when driving back past Terminal 7.
When I pulled up to the parking lot, I went to hand her the bottle and she said “That’s so kind of you! You know what? You can keep it! Thank you!”
I don’t like rum. I didn’t want it. If this lady didn’t want it, why did she make me go and– OH! I get it. She forgot it on the aircraft and realized that she would get in trouble if it was found in the galley. She wanted to get rid of evidence, and therefore wasted an hour of my time and maybe made me complicit.
I told her I wasn’t interested, but she insisted, thinking she was doing me a favor. Annoyed by the situation, I walked over to a trash can and dropped it in, shattering the bottle as she watched.
What Seems to Be the Problem, Officer?
One afternoon while driving near Taxiway C along those “zipper lines,” a Port Authority Crown Victoria police car swung behind me and put his lights on. PANYNJ Police is not a group of airport security guards. They are a fully functioning police force that protects several airports, bridges, bus terminals, and rail stations in the tri-state area. So, this surprised me, as I had no idea what I could have done wrong.
I was pretty nervous, as another speeding ticket could mean losing my job. But when he came up to my window, I was surprised by what he said.
“Hi, I’ve never driven on the airport before. Do you know how I can get out of here? Can you escort me to a gate?”
Um, sure, guy. (Whew!)
Beast Mode
The vehicle service roads are typically two-way, one side in each direction like a normal road. One day I saw a Port Authority vehicle headed toward me, escorting a series of vehicles behind it. This is pretty common because “outside” vehicles, such as construction equipment, needed to be escorted everywhere they go.
This time was a little different, in that the vehicles being escorted were large black limousines. It was the Presidential motorcade, sans President, heading back to a C-5 Galaxy that carries them wherever he travels.
Remember that 10mph speed limit? Yeah, that was ignored completely, like the vehicle service road was an extension of the Belt Parkway.
They See Me Rollin’
Sometimes, even following the rules can’t keep you out of danger.
One day I was in the zipper lines, passing Terminal 7, heading back to the office. That’s when I saw TF-FIT, an all-white Icelandair 757-200 headed in my direction on the parallel taxiway A.
I was driving a Chevy Astro, a small utility minivan—an empty shell with bare walls and nothing behind the front seats. It carried supplies like aircraft chocks and made lunch runs to Boston Market on Rockaway Blvd.
As I passed by the 757, it made a left turn, away from me, onto Taxiway W. This put me directly behind it as it turned, aligning me perpendicularly to its position. This also happens to be the time that they decided to gun the throttle.
Those Rolls Royce RB-211 engines almost did me in. The blast of thrust slammed into my minivan, and I don’t want to sound dramatic by saying that my right wheels came off the ground, but if not, it had to be close. I turned the wheel quickly to the left to counter the blast from the right so I didn’t roll over. It was scary, violent, and loud, for about 5-10 seconds.
I wondered if I had done something wrong there, but I was operating within the rules and there was no way I could have predicted that aircraft’s turn and throttle punch.
There was also that time I was practically face to face with Iran’s Mahmoud Ahmadinejad while driving at JFK, but maybe I’ll save the United Nations stories for another article.
These stories are true to the best of my recollection.
If you have a question about aviation, my career, or a story request, please email me at phildernerjr@gmail.com. If you have additional details about any of my stories, please reach out!
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely my own and do not represent the positions of my employer or any affiliated organizations. This content is for informational and entertainment purposes only and is not intended as professional advice.
Early in my airline career, I got furloughed at the regional airline I flew for and knocked the dust off my mechanic's certificate, working night shift at our maintenance hangar. Being thrown the keys to a truck and being told the plane I needed to work on was down on the ramp was fairly common.
People often ask whether I've been scared on the job. Without blinking an eye I often tell them that driving on the ramp at Hartsfield without a radio was the most frightening thing I've done in the employ of an airline.