Jose Oj

[Jose Oj @Unfamiliar_ke]

@Richkhid132 Not for us pull out guys

[Jose Oj @Unfamiliar_ke]

EyeVanToeKnee

Ivan Toney

[Legacy (Fan) @LegacySiu]

Pronounce it slowly and identify the football player

Level: HARD

[Jose Oj @Unfamiliar_ke]

@LegacySiu EyeVanToeKnee

Ivan Toney

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

21 June 2022: A RED Air McDonnell Douglas MD-82 was arriving into Miami after a two-hour flight from Santo Domingo with 140 people on board and a descent complete runway in sight.

As the aircraft settled onto Runway 09 at Miami International Airport, something went wrong underneath. The left main landing gear collapsed almost immediately after contact and in an instant, the jet lost symmetry. Metal started grinding against asphalt and sparks trailing behind as the wing dropped closer to the ground.

The MD-82 veered off the runway, no longer tracking straight. As it slid, the left wing struck an airport structure, tearing into the airframe. Fuel lines ruptured and a fire erupted.

Flames built quickly along the right side of the aircraft while it came to a stop off the runway. Inside the cabin, passengers were now dealing with smoke, heat, and urgency. Evacuation slides deployed, and people began pouring out onto the tarmac.

Luckily, every single person onboard survived as out of the 140 occupants (130 passengers, 10 crew), only 4 sustained minor injuries.

Early findings into the incident pointed to a failure in the landing gear system. The left gear couldn’t absorb the loads after touchdown, leading to structural collapse and loss of control during the rollout.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

4 September 1984: Farnborough Airshow.

A de Havilland Canada DHC-5D Buffalo lines up for what looked like just another STOL demonstration, the kind of routine that hides how little margin actually exists when performance is pushed to the edge.

The aircraft is light, fast, and operating in a profile built for spectacle: steep climb, low pass, tight turn back to final. Everything was working until energy management stopped being theoretical and became immediate.

On base-to-final, the Buffalo rolled into a descending turn as the geometry tightened. The sink rate thus built faster than expected and at low altitude, there’s no much room to unwind it.

Therefore, the aircraft arrived at the runway unstable while still carrying bank and vertical speed. Impacting it violently.

The nose gear collapsed first, the airframe breaks apart under load causing wings to fail, propellers shred on contact and debris scatters beyond the runway edge into the display area.

Miraculously, everyone walks away. No fatalities or loss of lives were reported.

In airshow flying, the aircraft is rarely the limiting factor; the margin is. And when that margin disappears, it disappears all at once.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

September 14, 2003: Mountain Home AFB, Idaho with 85,000 spectators looking up as Capt. Chris Stricklin rockets into the sky for the team’s signature takeoff sequence: The Maximum Climb into a Split-S.

To the crowd, it looks like magic. Inside the cockpit is a lethal equation of altitude, energy, and timing. Get one variable wrong, and the sky runs out.

Mountain Home sits roughly 1,000 feet higher than their Nellis training grounds. Stricklin climbs, rolls inverted, and commits to the diving half-loop but his muscle memory is trapped in Nellis numbers. He pulls down into the Split-S at 1,670 feet AGL instead of the required 2,500 entering the dive 1,000 feet too low and the trap snaps shut.

Suddenly, the F-16C is pointed straight at the dirt, accelerating violently and Stricklin realizes the error instantly. He pulls full back stick, pulling maximum Gs. The airframe screams, but aerodynamics cannot rewrite physics and there isn't enough sky left to complete the loop.

He could eject right then but instead he stays. With the ground expanding in his canopy, he deliberately banks the falling jet left, nudging its trajectory away from the massive crowd. He trades his own precious escape time to ensure that if anyone dies today, it is only him.

At just 140 feet above the ground, with the nose still pointed down, he finally pulls the handles. 0.8 seconds later, the $20 million fighter slams into the airfield and disintegrates into a massive fireball.

Luckily, he walks away with minor injuries and not a single spectator is scratched.

Investigations into the incident concluded pilot error. A brief, human mix-up between MSL and AGL inside a maneuver that doesn't forgive small errors.

Because of this crash, the Thunderbirds fundamentally rebuilt their profile, adding strict altitude buffers and tightening callouts.

Stricklin went on to fly again, eventually retiring as a full Colonel and sharing his story so others could learn from the mistake.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

870 horsepower and 1,021 kg skeleton airframe with a pilot who treats gravity like a suggestion.

Meet the Sud-Aviation SA315B Lama. An aircraft built to survive the "hot and high" environments of the Himalayas.

It holds the absolute helicopter altitude record at a staggering 12,442 meters because its tail boom is an open steel lattice, mountain gusts can't buffet it but rather just blow right through.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

21 December 1970: After years of development to replace the troubled F-111B, Grumman finally put the F-14 Tomcat into the air for the first time; it wasn’t a flashy debut. The landing gear stayed down, the wings were kept in a safe forward sweep, and the crew kept it simple. The goal wasn’t to impress anyone but to prove the airplane worked and it did.

Nine days later, on December 30, the same jet went back up for its second test flight. This time, they were ready to push it a little further. Not long into the flight, something didn’t look right.

A chase aircraft flying alongside spotted fluid trailing behind the Tomcat; thin streams cutting through the air. That was hydraulic fluid and on a fighter like the F-14, hydraulics aren’t just important, they’re everything. Flight controls, stabilizers, wing sweep, braking all depend on hydraulics, therefore without it all you have is a falling object.

Inside the cockpit, the situation started to unravel quickly when the primary hydraulic system failed and the backup system began to go. What started as a leak was now turning into a total systems loss. The crew turned back immediately.

As the aircraft lined up for approach, control authority was slipping away. The Tomcat wasn’t responding the way it should as inputs were becoming meaningless. The jet was no longer being flown; it was being negotiated with.

Altitude was dropping: Fast. At just a few dozen feet above the ground, about 100ft, the crew made the only decision left and ejected.

At that height, ejection is a gamble as there’s barely enough time for the seat to fire, deploy, and separate before impact. It’s the kind of scenario that usually doesn’t end well, but luckily this time, it did.

Both crew members made it out alive, their parachutes deploying just in time as the aircraft slammed into a wooded area short of the runway and was destroyed.

The investigation that followed pointed to something deceptively simple. The F-14 used titanium hydraulic lines, which on paper were strong and efficient. But they weren’t adequately secured against vibration. Under real flight conditions, pressure pulses and structural resonance caused those lines to fatigue, crack, and ultimately rupture. Once the fluid was gone, the aircraft lost both primary and secondary hydraulic systems in quick succession.

Engineers moved quickly and the hydraulic system was redesigned, lines were better supported, and the issue was eliminated before testing resumed in 1971.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

28 August 1988: What was meant to be a highlight of a NATO airshow at Ramstein Air Base, West Germany, turned into one of the deadliest airshow disasters in history.

The event, Flugtag ‘88, drew a massive crowd,estimates range from 100,000 to over 300,000 spectators, with its headline act; Italy’s elite aerobatic team, the Frecce Tricolori, flying 10 Aermacchi MB-339 jets. They were to be performing a signature maneuver called the “Pierced Heart” where two formations draw a heart shape and a solo jet flies through (“pierces”) the heart at the exact crossing point.

At around 15:44–15:46 local time, the maneuver went wrong when the solo jet (callsign “Pony 10”) arrived too early and too low, colliding with two other aircraft at very low altitude (~150 ft). The three jets were instantly destroyed in the mid-air collision.

One aircraft disintegrated mid-air as another crashed near the runway and struck a UH-60 Black Hawk medical helicopter. The third jet, already engulfed in flames, slammed into the spectator area, sliding through the crowd and exploding in a massive fireball fueled by jet fuel.

500+ spectators suffered injuries with 346 of the injuries considered serious. Unfortunately, 70 people lost their lives that day; 67 spectators on the ground and 3 Italian pilots.

At the time, it became the deadliest airshow accident in history (until 2002). Airshows in Germany were suspended for years afterward and major changes were introduced such as Increased distance between displays and crowds, Restrictions on head-on and crossing maneuvers and even Improved emergency coordination protocols

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

28 January 2025: A Lockheed Martin F-35A Lightning II assigned to the 355th Fighter Squadron departed Eielson Air Force Base as part of a four-ship training sortie under the command of an experienced evaluator pilot.

Seconds after takeoff (around 11:22 local), the nose landing gear failed to retract properly and remained partially extended and canted about 17° to the left, creating abnormal drag and handling concerns. The pilot held the jet in the local area and began running emergency checklists while coordinating with the Supervisor of Flying (SOF) on the ground.

After about 50 minutes of consultation with engineers and base leadership while airborne, a plan was agreed on. The plan itself: use touch-and-go landings in an attempt to mechanically straighten and seat the nose gear.

After the second attempt, the problem spread beyond the nose gear as the main landing gear also failed to fully extend and the Weight-on-Wheels (WoW) sensors across the aircraft began falsely indicating the jet was on the ground. The flight control system transitioned into “ground mode” while still airborne, and the aircraft became effectively uncontrollable in flight.

With control lost and insufficient altitude to recover, the pilot ejected safely and survived with a compression fracture and abrasions. Moments later, the F-35 entered a near-vertical descent and impacted just off the runway, erupting in a fireball. The aircraft, valued at roughly $196.5 million, was destroyed.

The U.S. Air Force Accident Investigation Board (AIB) determined the primary cause to be hydraulic fluid contamination with water. In extreme Alaskan temperatures, the water froze inside the landing-gear struts preventing proper extension of both nose and main gear. The abnormal gear state triggered erroneous WoW sensor inputs, leading to the false ground-mode transition

Do you think the decision to attempt a second touch-and-go instead of executing a full-stop landing earlier, or considering a controlled ejection before the situation degraded the right one??🤔

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

In 1963, the U.S. Navy wanted to find out if a standard Marine Corps KC-130F Hercules, a massive 40-ton cargo plane, could land on a moving aircraft carrier to deliver heavy supplies over long distances.

The ship was the USS Forrestal. And the pilot was Lieutenant James H. Flatley III, who had actually never flown a four-engine aircraft before getting this assignment.

The Hercules had absolutely no tailhook, meaning it couldn't use the ship's arresting wires to stop. To land, the carrier had to steam at max speed directly into the wind, generating a massive 40-to-50-knot headwind down the deck.

And the moment the tires touched down, Flatley had to slam all four engines into full reverse thrust bringing the giant plane to a complete halt in just 267 feet. Its massive 132-foot wingspan cleared the ship's control tower island by less than 15 feet.

But taking off was an even crazier physics problem as the C-130 was way too big to hook up to the ship's steam catapults and therefore had to launch entirely under its own power.

The crew thus had to back the aircraft up to the absolute rear edge of the flight deck. Flatley locked the brakes down completely and revved all four turboprop engines to 100% maximum power. When he released the brakes, 20,000 horsepower launched the plane forward.

While Flatley focused on nose-wheel steering to keep the plane straight, his co-pilot held the control wheel to keep the massive wings level. Combined with the heavy headwind, the C-130 generated so much lift that it soared off the deck in only 745 feet.

Over three days, they completed 29 touch-and-goes, 21 full-stop landings, and 21 unassisted takeoffs.

Even though it worked, the Navy ultimately scrapped the idea as the C-130 was so huge it couldn't fit down the carrier's elevators, and the crew had to clear the entire deck just to land it; completely paralyzing the ship’s combat mission.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

23 February 2008: The B-2 Spirit stealth bomber known as the “Spirit of Kansas” was rolling down the runway at Andersen Air Force Base in Guam. It was a routine takeoff, but the aircraft was hiding a fatal flaw before it ever left the ground.

A tiny bit of tropical rain had seeped into three of its 24 skin-flush pressure sensors.

Because the B-2 is a flying wing with no tail, it’s naturally unstable and relies entirely on its automated flight-control computers to process sensor data and keep it stable in mid-air.

But when maintenance crews calibrated the systems before takeoff, they didn't realize water was trapped inside the tubes and the computer was therefore fed completely bogus data.

As the bomber hit takeoff speed, the wet sensors lied to the computer, claiming the aircraft was in a dangerous nose-down dive. To "fix" the nonexistent problem, the computer automatically commanded a violent 30-degree nose-up pitch right after liftoff causing the heavy stealth bomber to an instant stall.

With the aircraft rolling violently and the left wing clipping the ground, the two pilots had fractions of a second to act. They yanked their ejection handles, escaping with minor injuries just moments before the $1.4 billion machine slammed back onto the runway and exploded into a massive fireball.

The craziest part? The fix was incredibly simple and the Air Force now requires crews to turn on the sensor heaters before calibration to vaporize any trapped moisture.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

When a helicopter hovers near the ground, its rotor blades push down massive amounts of air. This powerful downwash creates a violent wind vortex on the deck. If the ground crew leaves even one piece of plastic or canvas unsecured, it transforms the landing zone into a trap
.
The vacuum effect sucks the lightweight tarp straight up into the rotor disc and the danger is catastrophic. A rogue object wrapping around the rotor head can instantly disrupt airflow, destroying all lift. Worse, the sudden mechanical resistance can tear the transmission apart, stall the engine, or shred the tail rotor, sending the aircraft into an uncontrollable spin.

In this clip, you can actually see the sheer strength of modern engineering. Instead of snapping like twigs, the blades act like giant machetes.

Modern rotors are built from advanced composite layers wrapped in titanium leading edges. They are designed to withstand massive kinetic forces, allowing them to literally shred the fabric mid-air.

Even though the helicopter managed to fly away, it’s not out of the woods. The extreme stress of a rotor strike can cause invisible, microscopic cracks inside the blades.

This aircraft is headed straight to the hangar for a complete teardown inspection before it ever leaves the ground again.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

17 February 2025: Delta Connection Flight 4819 was making its final approach into Toronto Pearson International Airport after a routine flight from Minneapolis.

The pilots weren’t just fighting the runway; they were fighting brutal Canadian winter weather.

As the Bombardier CRJ-900 line up with the tarmac, it was slammed by freezing temperatures, blinding snow, and severe crosswinds gusting up to 40 mph.

The aircraft hit the runway with massive force and the impact so violent that the right main landing gear snapped entirely, causing the right wing to tear away from the fuselage.

The catastrophic structural failure sent the jet spinning, flipping completely upside down, and sliding flat on its roof across the snow-covered tarmac.

A brief fuel fire erupted, and the cabin filled with smoke while resting inverted in the freezing snow.

Looking at the wreckage, you would expect a devastating loss of life. But emergency crews and the flight team executed a flawless evacuation.

Against all odds, every single one of the 80 passengers and crew members on board survived. While 18 people were rushed to the hospital with injuries, everyone made it out alive.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

Here is the real crash explainer👇

https://t.co/A927Snqm58

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

Imagine surviving a plane crash like this and having clear footage .

Makes it look staged but it wasn’t.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

On the morning of May 4, 2026, inside a Mexican Navy base in Mazatlán, everything looked routine; until it wasn’t.

A Mil Mi-17, a workhorse helicopter used by the Mexican Navy, lifted off from the Fourth Naval Region facilities; just another takeoff, just another mission.

Seconds later, the aircraft lost power. Not gradually. Not with warning you can work through.
It was sudden, right at the worst possible moment. At low altitude, low airspeed and no margin to recover.

The helicopter barely had time to climb before it started coming down.

Inside the cockpit, the crew had only seconds to react. No altitude to trade, no time to troubleshoot. Just instinct, training, and a rapidly sinking machine. They fought to keep it under control, trying to turn what was about to be a catastrophic crash into something survivable.

The Mi-17 hit the ground within the base perimeter, hard enough to leave the aircraft significantly damaged.

Luckily, everyone walked away. No fatalities. No reported injuries.

In helicopter operations, an engine failure during takeoff is one of the most unforgiving scenarios there is. Even though the Mi-17 is a twin-engine aircraft, losing power at that exact phase leaves almost no room for recovery. It becomes a race against physics; altitude you don’t have, speed you haven’t built, and time that’s already gone.

This is one of those incidents that could have ended very differently, but didn’t.

[Turbex Aero @turbexaero_]

01 December 1984: NASA and the FAA carried out one of the most unusual aviation experiments ever done when they deliberately crashed a Boeing 720 in the California desert.

The aircraft was part of the Controlled Impact Demonstration (CID) at Edwards Air Force Base, and the goal was very specific:
to study whether a special fuel called Anti-Misting Kerosene (AMK) could reduce post-crash fires.

AMK was designed to prevent jet fuel from breaking into fine mist on impact, because that mist is what ignites into massive fireballs after crashes.

The Boeing 720 was fitted with sensors, cameras, crash dummies and was flown remotely with no crew onboard. It was guided into a controlled, gear-up crash on the desert lakebed with its wings designed to rupture fuel tanks in a controlled way on impact

As the aircraft descended, it drifted slightly off the intended path. Its left wing struck first, and instead of a clean, symmetrical breakup, the structure tore unevenly. Fuel was released in large quantities, and almost immediately, a massive fireball erupted.

From the outside, it looked like the test had completely failed.

And in one sense, it did — the AMK fuel system did not perform the way researchers had hoped. It did not prevent ignition under real crash conditions, and the concept was ultimately not adopted for commercial aviation.

But the deeper findings told a more complex story. Even through the fire, the data showed something important:

The impact itself was largely survivable as the aircraft structure absorbed the crash forces better than expected, and several cabin areas remained structurally intact for a short period after impact.

Fire, not impact, was the dominant threat and the experiment reinforced that post-crash fire remains one of the biggest risks in survivable accidents.

The fuel didn’t succeed in preventing the fire.

But the data helped shift aviation safety focus even further.

[Jose Oj @Unfamiliar_ke]

@muheediva01 Oxtail…I mean it’s just a tail

[Jose Oj @Unfamiliar_ke]

@turbexaero_ Kudos to the pilot👏