15

Even before it happened, Joe Patroni knew he was running out of time. He had deliberately not started the engines of the Afteo-Mexican 707 until the latest possible moment, wanting the work of clearing under and around the aircraft to continue as long as it could.
When he realized that he could wait no longer, Patroni made a final inspection. What he saw gave him grave misgivings.
The landing gear was still not as clear from surrounding earth, mud, and snow as it should be. Nor were the trenches, inclining upward from the present level of the main wheels to the hard surface of the nearby taxiway, as wide or deep as he had wanted. Another fifteen minutes would have done it.
Patroni knew he didn't have the time.
Reluctantly he ascended the boarding ramp, to make his second attempt at moving the mired aircraft, now with himself at the controls.
He shouted to Ingram, the A6rco-Mexican foreman, "Get everybody clear! We're starting up."

From under the aircraft, figures began to move out.
Snow was still falling, but more lightly than for several hours.
Joe Patroni called again from the boarding.ramp. "I need somebody with me on the flight deck, but let's keep the weight down. Send me a skinny guy who's cockpit qualified."
He let himself into the aircraft's forward door.
Inside, through the flight deck windows, Patroni could see Mel Bakersfeld's airport car, its bright yellow coloring reflected through the darkness. The car was parked on the runway, to the left. Near it was the line of snowplows and graders-a reminder, if he needed one, that he had only a few minutes more.
The maintenance chief had reacted with shocked disbelief when Mel announced his plan to shove the A6reo-Mexican aircraft clear of runway three zero by force, if necessary. The reaction was natural, but was not through indifference to the safety of those aboard Trans America Flight Two. Joe Patroni lived with thoughts of aircraft safety, which was the object of his daily