By Brendan Beng ’26
Flight JL516 was a routine trip from New Chitose Airport in Sapporo, Japan to Tokyo’s Haneda Airport. For all I knew, it would be just like every other flight I had taken. How wrong I turned out to be.
The mood on the flight was calm. There wasn’t much to do but wait until we landed as it was barely a one-and-a-half-hour-long domestic flight. I almost slept through it entirely to prevent jet lag. I awoke just as we were about to touch the ground, anticipating the connecting flight to New York City.
It was a relatively normal landing before I was suddenly jolted upwards. I felt as if I was floating for a brief second before crashing back into my seat as the entire plane lurched forward. There was a momentous boom behind me which sounded like a bomb. The jet engine on the left wing burst into flames, and out of my window, I could see sparks flying. Then, there was a sudden screeching of metal grinding against tarmac until the plane skidded to a halt.
Smoke started billowing out from the cabin. The windows were illuminated by an eerie orange glow. I had never been more afraid in my entire life, yet despite the hellish situation that we were in, everyone else on the flight seemed rather calm — excluding the flight attendants shouting instructions and some passengers pushing and shoving to reach the exits. The sudden catastrophe left me so shocked that I was unable to panic in the moment. I was focused on one thing: survival.
I lay low to prevent myself from breathing in too much smoke and quickly crept towards the emergency exit door at the front of the plane. I jumped out and slid down the evacuation slide until I was on the grassy ground. I then ran as far away as I could. I watched from afar as the flames snaked their way up to engulf the plane until a smaller explosion went off as the cockpit exploded. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I was alive.
After all the passengers were accounted for, we were piled into three buses and taken to a holding center in the terminal. They handed out water and snacks and gave out information forms for us to fill out. We were held for nearly three hours before they let us out in groups to shield us from the swarming press. The ordeal was finally over.
To describe a near-death experience as life-changing would not remotely do it justice. While I would not wish this experience on anyone, it has shown me how important it is to live life to its fullest — for but in an instant, it can all be taken away.
