KEYNOTE SPEAKER--The Bird Strike Committees of USA and Canada are honored to have John Goglia make the Keynote Address at our 2004 meeting

John Golgia, served as a Member of the National Transportation Safety Board from 1995- May 2004.  He is now a Professor of Aviation Science in St. Louis University’s Parks College of Engineering, Aviation and Technology.  The following is abridged from an article by Bill Adair in the St. Petersburg Times (23 Mar 2004):

John Goglia saw lots of gruesome scenes as a crash investigator for the machinists union and usually did not get emotional. But as he stood in a Pittsburgh hotel in September 1994, big tears rolled down his cheeks.

The room was filled with pilots and mechanics investigating the crash of a USAir plane and nearly everyone was crying. It was the company's fifth crash in five years and the employees were devastated.

Goglia, a USAir mechanic, hugged the leader of the pilots union and choked back tears. "Our goal," he said, "is to make sure no one has to go through this again."

Since then, the burly Bostonian has earned a reputation as one of aviation's most unusual characters. He served on the National Transportation Safety Board and became famous for being blunt. He once chastised a federal official for withholding a safety report by saying, "This really smells."

Goglia was also renowned because he cried.  In a profession dominated by macho guys who hide their emotions, he wasn't afraid to shed a few tears. He cried at plane crashes, retirement parties, his daughters' weddings and during the Jerry Lewis telethon.

Now, he is about to leave the NTSB - and it's his colleagues who are crying.

"Go-Go" Goglia - the nickname came from a boss who stuttered while saying his name - has changed aviation in ways big and small.

He started as a mechanic for United Airlines and eventually joined Allegheny, which became USAir.

Goglia loved the challenge of diagnosing a problem and the sense of accomplishment when he fixed it. He developed a safety program for his union, the International Association of Machinists, and was its representative for NTSB investigations. He became well-known in aviation circles and got appointed to the safety board in 1995 by President Bill Clinton. He is one of the five board members who govern the agency and decide the cause of accidents.

When he accepted the government job, he was required to cut all ties with USAir, which meant he had to sacrifice about $3,500 per month in retirement pay, plus his health benefits. He sacrificed the money because the NTSB gave him "an opportunity to make a difference."

Goglia, whose term ends next month, leaves a long legacy.

During his nine years on the safety board, he often warned about the risks of bird-plane collisions and persuaded airports to do a better job keeping the animals from nesting and feeding near runways.

He was the first airline mechanic on the NTSB and often focused on mistakes by his brethren. He was instrumental in persuading airlines and labor unions to adopt new ways to prevent those mistakes.

Many of Goglia's accomplishments came behind the scenes, in the countless committees where the rules for aviation maintenance are made.  Goglia often worked late and called people at all hours. He recently called a Pratt & Whitney safety official at 2 a.m. to discuss birds. When he calls, he skips the formality of identifying himself. He just says, "Whatta you doin'? Did I wake you up?"

He and his wife, Patricia, have been married since 1965. They have three daughters and six grandchildren.

His impulsive style has ruffled feathers in the cautious culture of the NTSB. "There was always a split on John," says Peter Goelz, a former managing director of the safety board. "Upper management (of the NTSB) always thought he could be a pain in the a--. But the tin kickers - the investigators - loved him. They knew he was one of them."

Says Jack Kreckie, an official with a group of airport fire- rescue agencies: "He knows where all the skeletons are buried and he's not afraid to kick the doors down and reveal them."

Goglia grew up so close to Boston's Logan Airport that he never needed an alarm clock. He was awakened every day at 7 a.m. when airline mechanics began their engine run-ups.  As a boy, he spent many afternoons riding his Raleigh 3-Speed bike around the airport. He befriended mechanics and got to climb inside the DC-3s and DC-6s.

One afternoon when he was 16, a boom shook his house. An Eastern Air Lines plane taking off from Logan had crashed in nearby Winthrop Bay.

Within an hour, Goglia was enlisted to help the rescuers. He had just learned scuba diving, so he was chosen to search the shallow water for survivors. He couldn't see in the darkness and had to feel his way around the fuselage. He found corpses and a few body parts, but no survivors.  Other rescuers found 10 people alive. But the remaining 62 passengers and crew members were killed. The teenager was unfazed by the horrific scene. "At 16, you're invincible," he says. "It didn't bother me."

Investigators determined the Lockheed Electra had flown into a flock of starlings, which crippled the engines and made the pilots lose control. The crash led to new federal standards requiring planes to withstand "bird strikes" and inspired Goglia's lifelong crusade.

He still fusses at staffers from the NTSB and the FAA about new reports of bird collisions. He says airports and the FAA need to be more aggressive about making the areas around airports less inviting to birds.

"I think it's just a matter of time before we're going to have an event that will make us wish we had dealt with the problem earlier."

Now that Goglia's term on the NTSB is about to end, many people in aviation are concerned that the safety board will miss his technical expertise.

David Collogan, a columnist for Business & Commercial Aviation magazine, recently praised Goglia's willingness to admit his own mistakes as a mechanic to call attention to industrywide problems.

"That sort of candor is a rare commodity in official Washington and will be sorely missed," Collogan wrote.

Goglia says the 1994 USAir accident was a turning point because it convinced him to be more open about his emotions.

"I've probably cried more on nationwide TV than others, but it's my way of getting out the grief," he says.

Kreckie, the fire-rescue official, says that makes Goglia unique. "This guy," he says, "operates from his heart."