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But if the battle was primarily between the President and the controllers, the general public was a much involved third party. An unsettling question formed in millions of minds: Just how safe are the skies when substitute controllers—and, eventually, military specialists unfamiliar with generally heavier civilian air traffic—are manning the towers and scopes? In addition, how long could the supervisors stand the strain?
Federal aviation experts—including Lewis, a lawyer and licensed pilot, and FAA Administrator Lynn Helms, former chairman of Piper Aircraft Corp. and an experienced test pilot—insisted that the system was as safe as ever. Noting that traffic was down at the nation's airports, some airline pilots contended that this actually made flying less hazardous than before the strike. At busy airports, like Chicago's O'Hare International, aircraft were required to stay 20 miles behind another plane approaching a landing, rather than the usual five miles; planes taking off had to wait five minutes instead of the normal one minute or less before rolling down the runway after another had left.
The striking controllers, however, contend that the supervisors are generally older men (in their mid-40s vs. mid-30s for rank-and-file controllers) who may have grown rusty at manning the scopes and who may tire once the initial exhilaration of stepping into an emergency situation wears off. Initially they were working 12-hr, daily shifts vs. the controllers' usual 40-hr, week. At week's end, Helms ordered that no control tower employee should work more than 48 hours a week.
As for the military replacements, many of the strikers themselves first learned their trade in the service, typically during the Viet Nam era. Some contend that the shift to civilian duties was difficult for them. Said Poli, somewhat menacingly, about the fill-in system last week: "I hope that nothing happens." But if it does, he suggested, "the Government is responsible."
The argument scarcely returns the blood to the knuckles of those millions of airline passengers who are jittery about flying under the best of circumstances. TIME Correspondent Madeleine Nash, who has been following air-controller operations at Chicago's O'Hare for several years, last week found a marked change in the mood of the pressure-packed tower crews 200 ft. above the runways, as well as in the darkened radar room 20 ft. underground:
"There is a swaggering style, a macho flair to O'Hare's ace controllers. In near darkness, they hunch over their radarscopes like teen-age boys playing electronic games. Their faces glow in the greenish-yellow light, as each sweep of the radar reveals a constantly changing configuration of planes. They have developed their own special mystique. They chain smoke and drink countless cups of coffee while placating their upset stomachs with chalky Maalox tablets from the big glass candy jars that are standard in every control room.