After yet another catastrophic hurricane season in the USA in 2018, which featured such ferocious storms as Florence and Michael, top hurricane forecasters made their first prediction for the 2019 season, which begins June 1.
Thanks to a weak El Niño, experts expect a „slightly below-average Atlantic hurricane season.” Meteorologist Phil Klotzbach and other experts from Colorado State University – among the nation’s top seasonal hurricane forecasters – predict 13 named tropical storms will form, five of which will become hurricanes.
An average season has 12 tropical storms, six of which are hurricanes.
A tropical storm becomes a hurricane when its wind speed reaches 74 mph.
Of the five predicted hurricanes, two are expected to spin into major hurricanes – Category 3, 4 or 5 – with sustained wind speeds of 111 mph or greater. The group said there’s a near-average chance for major hurricanes to make landfall along the U.S. coastline. Klotzbach put the chance of a major hurricane strike at 39%.
Last year, Florence and Michael combined to kill more than 100 Americans and cost nearly $50 billion in damage, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration said.
The Atlantic hurricane season runs from June 1 to Nov. 30, though storms sometimes form outside those dates.
The team predicts that 2019 hurricane activity will be about 75% of the average season. By comparison, 2018’s hurricane activity was about 120% of the average season.
Colorado State’s prediction in 2018 was quite good. Last year, the team predicted 14 tropical storms would form, of which seven would become hurricanes. In all, 15 tropical storms developed, and eight strengthened into hurricanes.
One of the major determining factors in hurricane forecasting is whether the USA is in an El Niño or La Niña climate pattern.
„The current weak El Niño event appears likely to maintain intensity or perhaps even strengthen during the summer/fall,” according to the forecast.
El Niño is a natural warming of tropical Pacific Ocean water, which tends to suppress the development of Atlantic hurricanes. Its opposite, La Niña, marked by cooler ocean water, tends to increase hurricanes in the Atlantic.
Another limiting factor: Tropical Atlantic sea surface temperatures are slightly cooler than average. Hurricanes are fueled in part by warm seawater.
Insurance companies, emergency managers and the media use the forecasts to prepare Americans for the year’s hurricane threat. The team’s annual predictions provide the best estimate of activity during the upcoming season, not an exact measure, according to Colorado State.
„We issue these forecasts to satisfy the curiosity of the general public and to bring attention to the hurricane problem,” the university said. „There is a general interest in knowing what the odds are for an active or inactive season.”
The university, under the direction of meteorologist William Gray, was the first group to predict seasonal hurricane activity in the mid-1980s. Gray died in 2016.
This is the team’s 36th forecast. It covers the Atlantic basin, which includes the Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico.
AccuWeather released its hurricane forecast for the upcoming season Wednesday, predicting that 12-14 named storms would form, of which five to seven will be hurricanes. The firm said two to four are likely to hit the USA.
The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration will issue its forecast in late May.
The first named storm of the Atlantic hurricane season will be Arlene, followed by Barry, Chantal, Dorian, Erin, Fernand and Gabrielle.
Colorado State forecasters will update their predictions three times over the next few months, on June 4, July 2 and Aug. 6.
This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Hurricane season is approaching. This is the first forecast for 2019
A report released this week by Environment and Climate Change Canada reveals some startling truths about the country’s future. Titled Canada’s Changing Climate Report, the document forecasts grim and catastrophic changes to the landscape of the country, as a direct result of environmental changes.
The most startling takeaway from the document is that Canada is warming at twice the rate of the rest of the world. And while the future isn’t written in stone, the actions we take immediately to reduce greenhouse gas emissions will influence whether temperatures will go up by either two degrees or six degrees.
Other disturbing findings from the report include:
- More bouts of hot, intense temperatures, as a result of warming climate.
- Warming oceans around Canada, which result in acidic water.
- Northern Canada is warming three times faster than the global average.
- More heavy rainfall across the country, but a decrease during the summer months.
“Really bad or catastrophic”
Keith Stewart, Senior Energy Strategist with Greenpeace Canada, describes the two potential future environmental outcomes in the country as either “really bad or catastrophic.”
Canada will continue to warm, regardless of whether we cut back greenhouse gas emissions or not, it just depends at what rate.
“We have to take our foot off the accelerator before we hit a brick wall,” he tells Yahoo Canada. “Maybe having a better airbag is a good thing but do you want to hit the wall at 20 kilometres an hour or 120?”
While the projections of the report focus on mid-century or end of century, Dr. Megan Kirchmeier-Young, a research scientist with Environment Climate Change Canada, says we can’t expect extreme weather that leads to forest fires and flooding to suddenly go away.
“We’ll continue to have heavy rainfalls that will lead to flooding and longer growing seasons,” she says. “This impacts on the heating and cooling days – how long we’ll need to run our heaters or air conditioning.”
Boiling down warming
Canada’s high rate of warming boils down to two reasons: land areas warm faster, and an increased warming in all of the arctic and northern high latitudes.
Kirchmeier-Young explains that this is because of the melting of snow and ice.
“If you take a bright surface like white snow or sea ice, it reflects a lot of sunlight back,” she explains. “And without that, you’re replacing it with darker land or water surface and so that’s absorbing more of the incoming radiation, and that will warm the surface more, and increase the warming and lead to further reduction in snow and sea ice.”
While Canada is warming faster than the rest of the world, circumpolar countries like Russia, Sweden and Finland are also seeing warming at a similar rate.
Brace for extreme weather
Stewart explains that specific regions will experience different weather extremes within the next 50 years. He predicts extended periods of drought for the Prairies, while the Boreal forest region will see more forest fires as a result of tinder-dry conditions. The coastal areas of the east coast will get hit with more hurricanes and continue to rise in water levels, which will lead to more flooding.
“What we’re going to see with this is stronger heatwaves and drought, which damage crops,” he says. “There will be more forest fires, which we saw in B.C. last year. Those will become much more frequent.”
The extreme weather changes also have real potential to affect wildlife. Stewart says that the types of changes described in the report are changes that have happened before, pre-civilization, over the course of 50,000 years.
“Forests can move, ecosystems can slowly shift,” he says. “But when you pack these changes into the course of 50 years…we’re not the Lord of the Rings movie where the forest gets up and goes somewhere else. The forest burns because it’s no longer in the right climate zone that it’s designed.”
He says the amount of species that become extinct, and the damage done to our landscape, will depend on how big and fast the changes are, which comes down to us.
“People are going to lose their homes to storms, wildfires and flooding,” he says. “Businesses are going to be disrupted. It’s just a question of how many and how soon. That’s what we have control over. We also have to make investments to protect from flooding and wildfires.”
The report finds that if the country goes the way of a low emissions scenario, temperatures will stabilize. If it continues on the high emissions route, the results will be grim. It all comes down to the changes we make as humans.
“One of the key findings of the report is that Canada has warmed and that’s largely due to human emissions,” says Kirchmeier-Young. “Along with that, how much we continue to warm depends on how much we continue to emit.”
Kampala (AFP) – Ugandan security forces scoured dense bush on Thursday in the hunt for a US tourist and her safari guide who were kidnapped by gunmen in a national park.
„The operation to rescue the tourist is still ongoing,” Uganda’s tourism minister, Godfrey Kiwanda, told AFP on Thursday morning.
Four kidnappers stopped a group of tourists at gunpoint around dusk on Tuesday as they drove through the Queen Elizabeth National Park on safari to see wild animals.
Police identified the American as a 35-year-old woman, and said the kidnappers had later used her mobile telephone to demand a ransom of $500,000 (445,000 euros) for the release of the pair. The driver is a 48-year old safari guide with years of experience.
The gunmen dragged the pair from their safari vehicle, but left behind two other tourists, whom police described as an „elderly couple”. They managed to raise the alarm from the lodge where they were staying.
Army spokesman Brigadier Richard Karemire said security forces were doing all they could to track down the gunmen.
„Let the security forces do their work,” he said Thursday.
The US Embassy in Kampala said it was aware of the kidnapping, and warned its citizens to „exercise caution when travelling to this area due to ongoing security activity.”
Soldiers have fanned out along the porous border with the Democratic Republic of Congo, with security forces insisting they believe the pair remain in the country.
The Ugandan police’s tourist protection force has also deployed a special response unit working alongside soldiers and wildlife rangers.
Queen Elizabeth National Park, one of the East African nation’s most popular wildlife reserves, runs along the frontier with conflict-wracked regions of DR Congo, bordering its famous Virunga national park, the oldest in Africa.
Numerous militia groups and armed gangs roam eastern DR Congo. Virunga suspended all tourism activities last year after a ranger was killed and two British tourists kidnapped.
The Britons and their driver were freed two days after the attack. The park reopened in February.
The Ugandan park straddles the equator, covering 1,978 square kilometres (764 square miles) in the country’s south west.
Tourism is a key industry for Uganda, as a major earner of foreign currency. Hundreds of thousands of tourists visit each year.
Ugandan authorities are still looking for Kimberly Sue Endicott, who they say was kidnapped at gunpoint while on a safari ride.
By 7 p.m. exactly 120 years ago, Loren Waldo was dead. No one can say that for sure because he was alone. But if you lie down in the snow for just five minutes as if you’d fallen there, unable to ski through a sub-zero night, you’ll know.
I’m writing this from the inside of a 150-year-old cabin at the very top of Boreas Pass, a gale-prone gap on the Continental Divide in Colorado. It’s below zero, and if not for the wood stove at my feet and the down bag that I will zip into soon, I’d be as dead as Waldo on the anniversary of his death: February 11.
I skied up here to see the winter day that Waldo, a 27-year-old bookkeeper from Breckenridge chose to try and cross Boreas and get to Como, on the Eastern Slope of the Rockies, and then on to Denver, where his lovely young wife waited for him.
Normally, he’d have taken the narrow-gauge train that snaked east out of town. But the tracks were buried by the Big Snow of 1899, the worst winter to hit Colorado since miners had shambled into the high country looking for gold 40 years before.
There hasn’t been a winter like it since. More than 31 feet of snow fell from December through April alone, a record never beaten. Not even close. Few people ventured into it the way Waldo did, in a light overcoat, a fedora, and 10-foot skis he could hardly use. A potent combination of love and—you gotta believe—lust drove him on as the sun went down over the Tenmile Range and the temperature dropped to 35 below zero.
Why ski into a blizzard dressed like a businessman in Chicago? We will never know. Waldo went over the pass with two other men, both of whom had dressed for near-Arctic conditions. I think Waldo, an Illinois native, had come to rely on the luxuries of the day: trains that scaled the steepest mountain passes; wood stoves that kicked out furnace-like heat; and beds covered in quilts. Flatlanders like Waldo could arrive in mining towns without hiking a single pass, then live like city dwellers.
“Big, kind-hearted Waldo,” as the people of Breckenridge called him (he stood over six feet tall), was the victim of a climate anomaly that year. He might have made it in any other winter. But the whole country froze in 1899. There were 45 states at the time, and the mercury in every one of them fell below 0.
Temperatures in Montana plummeted to a Siberian minus 61. Storms dumped 30 inches of snow in New Jersey in a matter of days. Food shipments in Chicago stopped for three weeks. Ice floes drifted past New Orleans on the Mississippi. Sleet clung to telegraph lines in Florida, snapping them to the ground. Kids had a snowball fight on the steps of the capitol in Tallahassee.
The weather event became known as the Great Arctic Outbreak of 1899. A massive pool of arctic air migrated south over the U.S. The culprit was the jet stream, the west-to-east air flow high in the atmosphere that—normally—pens arctic air in the north. That winter, the jet stream dipped farther south than it had in recorded history, and frigid air followed.
These days in the American West, it’s hard to imagine the blizzards of 1899. Most every winter is warmer than the last, and the summers are often ruined by smoke from wildfires. All of that, and worse, is predicted by climate change. Surprisingly, so are arctic outbreaks like the one in 1899 (the journal Naturedescribed the mechanics in a study last March).
The East Coast and Midwest are expected to freeze most often. December’s deadly snow in North Carolina is evidence. So is January’s fatal arctic outbreak in the Midwest. In March, another, bigger outbreak stretched across the country, driving temperatures down to just 9 degrees as far south as Tulsa, Oklahoma. North Platte, Nebraska, fell to a March record of minus 25.
In Colorado, it snowed like it was 1899. Breckenridge got 40 inches in three days. On March 3, an avalanche crashed down the granite walls of Tenmile Canyon. Video of the slide showed a towering plume of snow filling the canyon. Four days later, another avalanche buried four cars under 15 feet of snow near Copper Mountain Resort. Next, a “bomb cyclone” hit the Colorado plains. Winds at the Denver airport howled to a record 80 miles per hour as a Florida-worthy hurricane, but with snow, struck the middle of the country. Tornadoes tore across New Mexico. Hail the size of baseballs hammered Texas. A biblical flood swept away whole towns and herds of cattle in Nebraska and Iowa.
Unless we act fast, weather anomalies like this are going to become routine. The frigid winter of 2019 shows that the world isn’t going to end in fire, as one might expect from global warming—but maybe in ice. Given that, it might be wise to study the winter of 1899 on the roof of America and see how people coped.
Mattie Walker, a 27-year-old school teacher from Kokomo, a vanished mining town near Copper Mountain, wrote about the winter. It began, she said, just like any other.
“Large feathery flakes fell until Kokomo was a city of whiteness,” she wrote in a letter. “The wind would blow occasionally and heap the snow into great drifts, but this was nothing uncommon for this place and passed almost unnoticed.”
Then the winter got real. Snow started falling by the foot in January, and the wind blew constantly. A train left Kokomo on January 17, and one didn’t return until April 27. It wasn’t for lack of trying. Railroad operators outfitted trains with rotating blades that bored through snow like mammoth drills. But even those couldn’t dislodge the soaring drifts that walled off the tracks on the Continental Divide.
Coal ran out, and townspeople had to dig through snow to get wood off nearby hills. Telegraph lines fell, and the only mail came from Leadville, 20 miles away, by snowshoe. Fresh food disappeared. People left the table hungry, and everyone, not just the miners, played cards, a game considered too rough for women.
“I began to be haunted by the dreadful fear that the snow would continue to fall until the valley was filled,” Mattie Walker wrote, “and the people of this little camp, like the inhabitants of Pompeii, might in long years after be dug from this tomb.”
People in nearby Breckenridge paid men to ski 20 miles over Boreas Pass to Como, on the eastern side of the Divide, for supplies and mail. Bored, and tired of trudging through snow, a group of Breckenridge men tried to build a “snow bike,” with a paddle wheel on the back to push it along. It broke on the first outing and became kindling.
Dances in Breckenridge that winter often went until 4 a.m.
Elmer Peabody, 14, had to trudge through feet of snow every day to feed the family’s cow. The animal never left the barn all winter because its small pasture was buried, and that probably saved its life, Peabody wrote years later. When their neighbor went out to milk her cow, she found it butchered by a group of men desperate for food. They paid her, at least.
Loren Waldo didn’t last long, marooned in a mountain town without his pretty new wife, Minnie. She lived with her mother in Denver, while Waldo stayed in Breckenridge to watch over mining claims he had made. In 1887, two lucky diggers had pulled a 12-pound chunk of crystallized gold out of nearby Farncomb Hill, the biggest ever found in Colorado. The monster rock, called Tom’s Baby, stoked gold lust in a town that already had it bad.
Waldo had been torn between gold and his girl. Now, his claims were buried. His gold, if there was any, was safe under feet of snow, and he had little reason to stick around.
It had to feel bleak. Avalanches fell around Breckenridge, obliterating whole hamlets. One slide blocked trains near Glenwood Springs. When men came on a wrecking train to shovel out the tracks, another slide ripped down and pushed them and their rig into the river, killing three. Cabins in Swandyke, just a few miles from Breckenridge, disappeared in a slide soon after. Another one near Central City smothered a mother and her baby daughter in their cabin. Her two young sons survived. Mattie Walker wasn’t crazy: Colorado was becoming Pompeii.
Waldo saw his exit on February 10, when two men came into J.H. Hartman’s general store, where Waldo worked, looking for some tallow candles. Tallow kept snow from freezing to the bottoms of wooden skis, and the men, Eli Ruff and Ed Flanders, were fresh out of it after skiing 19 miles from Kokomo to Breckenridge. They, too, wanted to get over Boreas to Denver.
Ruff and Flanders were hardcore, especially Flanders. He worked as a fireman on the railroad, shoveling coal into engines. Before coming to Colorado, the wiry 32-year-old fought bloody battles in Cuba during the Spanish–American War. “His constitution is that of iron,” wrote a Denver Post journalist who interviewed him after the Boreas crossing.
When Waldo learned that Flanders and Ruff planned to cross Boreas Pass on skis, he pleaded to join them. He had recently purchased a pair of Norwegian shoes, which is what people called skis at the time. He hadn’t done any “extended walking” on them, he told Flanders, but he “had been practicing in the vicinity of Breckenridge with some success.”
Waldo was a big man, but even for him, his skis were abnormally long (10 feet) and absurdly heavy (made of ash). Flanders, by contrast, had a lighter 8-foot pair, and he knew how to use them. So did Ruff. To climb, they wrapped burlap sacks around them under foot, giving traction.
Flanders and Ruff stayed in Breckenridge that night. They left the next day at 11:20 a.m. after Waldo collected his pay from Hartman. Waldo’s gear must have alarmed them. He dressed for a winter walk in Denver, with a skull cap under his fedora and a pair of black mittens. He had lashed a suitcase over his shoulder. It was the 1899 equivalent of skiing in jeans.
Worse, it became clear immediately that Waldo couldn’t handle his Norwegian shoes. Instead of skiing up the railroad line, the men slogged up Indiana Gulch, a shorter route to the top of Boreas Pass. There was six feet of fresh snow, and the wind blew hard. Waldo lagged. Flanders and Ruff, sweating from the climb, froze every time they stopped to wait.
The three men took a longer rest three miles from the top of Boreas at Sutton’s mill. History doesn’t say if the place milled rock or timber, but the owner had a warm stove and plenty of coffee, and Waldo drank a lot of it. This was a certainly a blunder. Caffeine constricts blood vessels, denying blood flow to the hands and feet. It’s also a diuretic, flushing out crucial fluids along with all the sweat. Waldo may have felt better after his stop at Sutton’s mill, but it wouldn’t last.
“We kept together for some time, but he began again to drop behind,” Flanders told the Denver Post. Ruff warned that if they kept stopping, their sweat would freeze them to death. They waved for Waldo to follow as he struggled in the snow, but they kept moving, losing sight of him after a mile.
The old mountain railroads needed a lot of maintenance, so workers lived year-round in houses along the line and minded their section of track. These “section” houses dotted rail lines throughout the Rockies. Flanders and Ruff bypassed the tall, inviting house at the top of Boreas and skied down to a lower one, arriving at 6:30 p.m., just before dark.
Waldo, meantime, reached the top of the pass at 5:30 p.m. He warmed himself in the section house that Flanders and Ruff had skied past. Science says that Waldo should have been dead long before he reached the top of Boreas. It’s tempting to argue that love kept him going, but the Illinois native had probably acclimatized to the altitude and cold soon after he arrived in Summit County from Denver. Record snow and blistering cold had almost certainly become routine for him by the time he took off for Como, lulling him into thinking he could survive outside the safety of his house in town.
The agent at the summit section house told him to stay the night. I can tell you from experience that he absolutely should have. As it happened, we rolled into the smaller, older cabin next to the summit section house 90 minutes before Waldo did, exactly 120 years later. He would have been trudging through the snow field just to the west of us as we lit the wood stove and started water for hot cocoa.
I went out at 5:30 p.m. to see the world as Waldo did. The sun hung at the very same angle: low in the southwest and diminished. The wind tore across the ridge, blowing snow over to the Atlantic side of the Continental Divide. Clouds skittered eastward. Remove a glove for too long to take a picture, and it took an hour to warm your hand.
Waldo ignored the station agent and went back out in this frozen world, but worse. When we were there, the thermometer at the top of Boreas read 1 below zero. On Waldo’s final night, it fell to minus 35. I can’t imagine that he lasted more than a few more hours after leaving. At around 7:30 p.m., I put on my skis and headed east toward Como. The trees had turned black in the twilight. All but the tallest ones would have been buried completely in Waldo’s day, leaving a field of white.
South Park, one of Colorado’s three broad mountain basins, spread out far below me. Somewhere down there was Como. If he could see South Park, lit by a far-off sunset like it was for me, the pleasant, flat valley would have drawn Waldo onward.
I stopped, dropped my poles, and laid down on the wind-crusted snow. Within seconds, the cold penetrated all my layers. Blowing snow collected in the creases of my jacket. I could imagine freezing there and being covered in no time. At 1 below zero, with a steady wind, frostbite can start in 30 minutes. At minus 30, in can begin in just 5 minutes.
Was it madness to go? Yes, but it may not have looked that way to Waldo. In 1899, people lived all over the mountains of Summit County. Railroad agents lived in section houses at 11,500 feet. Men worked in mines and mills just below timberline. Waldo may have felt safe until the end, given the crowd.
A few days after Waldo disappeared, a Denver Post reporter visited Minnie at her mother’s house in Denver and described the scene: “Two helpless women, wrung with anxiety, sat in a cozy back room of the neat cottage at 1855 Lafayette Street this morning, as they have sat for many days, waiting for news they almost dread to receive.”
A friend arrived and tried to calm Minnie by suggesting that Waldo could be holed up in a miner’s cabin, snowed in and suffering from exposure, but very much alive. “Oh, but if he is sick, I want to be with him,” Minnie said.
Waldo’s father, Nathan, spent much of the spring looking for his son, helped by Waldo’s friends from Breckenridge. Late storms thwarted the search well into April, piling more snow on the dead man. A train arrived in Breckenridge on April 24, the first one in 79 days. In May, searchers found a pile of clothes beside a dead dog. The clothes contained theater tickets, but no money, and Waldo was known to have been carrying a wad.
In May, Waldo’s father offered a $200 reward for his son’s body, about $6,000 in today’s dollars. Finally, on June 3, a man named James Craig found Waldo, face-down in a stand of pine. He shouted to Waldo’s father, who searched nearby.
The body was black from exposure, the face weathered beyond recognition. Waldo had tried to save himself by wrapping shirts from his valise around his legs. Then, he must have given up. One glove was off, and a pencil lay beside him. His father concluded that Waldo had been writing to his wife.
“He realized that death was at hand,” his father told the Denver Post. “He pulled off one glove and got out his pencil and paper. If he wrote a note, the wind blew it away, for death came before he got the glove on again.”
Waldo was one of 105 Americans who died in the first two weeks of February 1899 alone. Avalanches killed many of them, and the cold got the rest. None of them had ever seen a winter like that, and many, like Waldo, underestimated its danger.
With the climate changing, we have to ask ourselves what dangers we’re not seeing, what catastrophes we’re laughing off. Some of us are going to find ourselves in frigid white-outs in the Rockies, watching our SUVs run out of gas after avalanches close the Interstate. Others are going to be swept away in ice-laden floods like the one this month that submerged Verdigre, Nebraska, and Hamburg, Iowa. These deaths will make headlines, until they become routine.
A tip if you’re the person in the SUV: put some candles and matches in the glove box. A single candle will heat your rig for hours while you wait for a rescue. In the meantime, try to shrink your carbon footprint. It’s your only hope.
This story was produced in partnership with Delve.
During a visit to Phoenix on Thursday, American Airlines CEO Doug Parker answered questions about the grounding of Boeing’s 737 Max 8 airplane and foreshadowed more cancellations to come.
Parker was recognized as executive of the year by Arizona State University’s W.P. Carey School of Business.
Parker told the audience at the event that American had been flying 24 Boeing 737 Max 8 planes but it has more on order and had been scheduled to have 40 in the air by the end of 2019.
That’s now in question.
„So long as they’re grounded, we’re taking thousands of seats out of the system every day, which means customers we can’t provide services to. So, we’re continuing to work through it,” Parker said.
The discussion came just hours after Ethiopian investigators revealed their preliminary investigation showed that a faulty angle of attack sensor had triggered the Maneuvering Characteristics Augmentation System, pointing the nose of the aircraft down. The crew had performed procedures recommended by Boeing but was unable to regain control of the aircraft.
In a video posted online, Boeing CEO Dennis Muilenburg took responsibility for the error.
As Boeing works on a software update to correct the problem, it will be up to the FAA to approve that fix. That could take time and meanwhile the Max 8 will stay grounded.
„What that means is that probably before too long we’re going to have to cancel flights even further out into the future. That’s the impact,” Parker told The Arizona Republic in an interview after the event.
He said the airline is working to make those calls early so cancellations affect the fewest number of passengers and cause the least amount of inconvenience.
„What’s most important is that Boeing and the FAA get comfortable that the airplane is safe for all carriers. And when they do, we’ll be ready. In the meantime, it’ll have an impact on us and we’ll do our best to minimize the impact on our customers,” said Parker.
This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: American Airlines CEO talks about Boeing 737 Max 8, possible cancellations
Delta Air Lines, the carrier that really knows a thing or two about on time performance, has done it again. The Atlanta-based carrier finished in first place and well ahead of its three largest United States-base competitors, including American Airlines, Southwest Airlines and United Airlines, in the March on-time arrival data released Thursday by airline data behemoth OAG. Aside from Delta finishing well ahead of its three biggest competitors, the major news for March is that three of the four carriers that compete in the on-time arrivals derby finished above the 80 percent threshold, suggesting March was a good month for airline operations. Delta Air Lines (NYSE: DAL) prevailed by a wide margin with 85.6 percent of its flights arriving on time. The United States Department of Transportation considers a flight to have arrived on time if it reaches the gate within fourteen minutes of its scheduled arrival time.