Smoke, Snow, and a Rope: One Wild Night on the Ramp
Tuesday brought the kind of weather that makes you question why you ever thought working outside sounded fun. Our first real snow event of the season dumped 4.7 inches on the airfield, just enough to make everything complicated.
We had been clearing snow for hours. Plows, brooms, blowers, all in convoys, trying to keep our runways, taxiways, and safety areas operational. We had trucks coming on and off the airfield in shifts, snow piling back up as soon as it was cleared. But that’s all pretty standard.
The wild part? That came later.
The Calm Before the Storm (Kind of)
At 3:00 p.m., Airfield Maintenance (AFM) had their shift change. It was the first snow event of the season, and several team members were brand new; some had never worked a storm like this before. Normally, we’re back up and rolling in under 30 minutes. But this time? It took a little longer to get trucks back out on the field. And in snow operations, 30 minutes is a long time. That’s enough time for the runways to go from clear to questionable.
Right around 3:40 p.m., the Tower called me.
“Hey, we’re about to send out an Alert 2.”
Not ideal timing.
What’s an Alert 2?
Airport emergencies come in levels:
Alert 1: Potential issue. Everyone is aware, just in case.
Alert 2: An aircraft has a known issue and is landing with an emergency response on standby.
Alert 3: The aircraft has crashed or there is an active fire or injury.
Alert 2s are a big deal. When we get the call, Airport Operations shuts down the runway, ARFF (Aircraft Rescue and Firefighting) responds and stages near the runway and taxiways, and we all get in position to follow the plane. If anything goes wrong, we’re seconds behind it.
Once the aircraft lands and clears the runway, we inspect the pavement, reopen the runway (as quickly and safely as we can), and then meet the pilots to ask a few questions and collect info for our report.
We take it seriously because a slow response or missed step can mean the runway stays closed longer than necessary. And that’s never good.
This Alert 2 was for a cargo aircraft dealing with autopilot issues. They had been flying north but opted to divert to our airport due to worsening snow up ahead.
Why Diversions Matter
Diversions are flights that weren’t originally supposed to land at your airport. Something, weather, medical emergency, or mechanical issues, forces them to change course.
They’re a logistical puzzle. We don’t have a parking plan. We weren’t expecting them. So we have to make it up on the fly. And when snow’s already falling, and plows aren’t fully rolling yet, it just adds to the fun.
This aircraft landed safely and parked while still running. Because it was a cargo flight, there were no passengers, just the pilot and first officer. They were planning on moving shortly, so they left the engines on while we figured out where they’d go next.
Enter: Deice Pad Chaos
At that point, I transitioned out of Snow Desk (which, for the record, is in the old FAA tower, the best view in the building) and went to help on the deice pad.
I joined Joe (my boss) in Airport 6, one of our Airport Operations SUVs. Together, we ran deice control, which means we had to approve and coordinate every movement on and around the ramp. The ramp is all of the pavement around the terminal that airplanes can move around and park on. De-ice control means we're telling planes where to go, holding them where they are, or telling them they can’t enter the ramp, depending on what we have going on.
The deice pad is where planes go to get sprayed down with glycol, a fluid that removes ice and snow from aircraft surfaces. It’s essential for safe winter flying, but it’s also expensive, slippery, and dangerous if it ends up in the wrong place.
We were barely getting into a rhythm when the same cargo plane that had diverted in earlier called us on the radio.
“Uh… we’ve got smoke in the cabin. We’re evacuating.”
Cue adrenaline.
Emergency Mode: Go
We asked if they needed airstairs. They said no—they didn’t have time.
Instead, they opened the front cabin door of the aircraft, threw a rope out of the plane, and started climbing out. This wasn’t a drill.
Joe jumped out of Airport 6 and sprinted to the aircraft. The crew rappelled down the rope, and Joe, no exaggeration, caught them as they dropped.
While all of this was happening, I was juggling radios.
One for Ground Control
One for ARFF
One for AFM
And my phone, calling the Comm Center to dispatch emergency crews
I had radios in my hands, on my shoulder, and still somehow found a way to talk to dispatch without mixing it all up. Barely.
ARFF arrived fast. They staged, investigated, and thankfully, the situation didn’t escalate. No injuries. No fire. Just a whole lot of smoke and adrenaline.
So What Caused It?
I saw a preliminary report that suggested glycol may have gotten into the aircraft’s electrical system, causing the autopilot issues and the smoke in the cockpit. But it was crossed out, so I’m not sure how accurate that is.
All I know is that the aircraft is still sitting on the ramp as I write this, getting repairs.
The Bigger Picture
There’s a lot going on behind the scenes during even a normal snowstorm. Add in an unexpected diversion, an aircraft emergency, and a rope evacuation, and you get a night that feels like something out of a training video.
This wasn’t my Alert 2 to run, but it was my first night working deice control on the ramp. And it reminded me just how much we’re responsible for, snow, safety, emergency response, aircraft coordination, and how fast it can all happen at once.
I’m just scratching the surface on learning what it takes to keep this airfield running in all conditions. But I’ve got great people around me, and I’ve got a front-row seat to some crazy stories.
More to come.
Catch you out on the ramp.
Why I’m doing this
Partly because people keep asking me, “What do you do?” and I want to be able to point to something that actually shows it.
But mostly?
Because I don’t want to forget what I’m learning.
This job is crazy. It’s complicated. It’s full of nuance. You can work here for twenty years and still not know everything. And I don’t want the lessons to slip past me just because I didn’t take five minutes to write them down.
So this is my version of capturing it.
One post at a time. One story at a time. One lesson at a time.
If you’ve ever wondered what happens behind the jet bridge, out past the taxiway lights, or behind those giant “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY” doors… you’re in the right place.
Let’s get to work.