Stormy Week

Tyler Collins
South Atlanta QZ/ARTCC, GA, US

There's some storms to the west, apparently, so I don't know how much is going to get through this week. It doesn't seem bad, but the supply flights are all about avoiding risk.

Today I learned that Robins AFB to the south is a QZ, harboring many of the people from the Macon area and around there. They finally got their ATC radio up, so I picked up their traffic on the speakers as I listened yesterday morning.

Fortunately, I remember from a visit that the base has a bunch of maintenance facilities and stuff that will really come in handy while maintaining the C-130s that keep us alive. Unfortunately, Robins ATC pointed out to us that they cannot accept aircraft unless it's capable of vertical landing. I guess they packed in so many people from the area that the runways are crowded? I don't know.

Today, you all get to learn what my actual job is. I guess it might seem odd to have a crew of eight military folks, an Air Traffic Controller, two military civil engineers, and...a grad student?

Short answer: Steve, the ATC guy, has one hell of a case of PTSD. Like...worse than bad. He is fine as long as he's working, either actually controlling aircraft or plotting. It's stressful, but he explained to me that his job was something that was completely in his control. Maybe it takes his mind off the other stuff. When he's idle...well, that's my day job.

The QZ has a psychiatrist, Dr. Stamper. He ran with my group out of Atlanta during the fall and I got to know him. Unfortunately, he is the only psychiatrist in the entire QZ, and we absolutely cannot afford to risk moving him. Dr Stamper and I did a lot of talking on the way and we got a good rep. When Steve was found and the commandant wanted to crack open the ARTCC to try to make contact, I was recruited to be Dr. Stamper's avatar for Steve's treatment. He knew about my background in science and my smattering of courses on psychology, so he plopped a notepad in my lap and dumped a crash course on cognitive-behavioral therapy.

Nowadays, when Steve is off duty and we're staying in the building, I run him through what approximates a therapy of sorts. When he's having flashbacks, it's me that drags him into the present and gets him focused again. It's a lot more of the latter than the former.

There was a time when I contemplated becoming a psychologist myself. No more, not after this. I'll stick to my chemicals and my instruments and not having to pull someone out of a scene so horrible that they cannot escape it months later.

Out to do my rounds. Stay safe, everyone.