Fateful flight: her job is to help aircrew members escape doomed aircraft. But she was powerless to save her father when terrorists crashed his plane into the Pentagon

Airman, Sept, 2002 by Tim Barela

People said Jennifer took after her father, John. She never knew exactly why. Perhaps it was their mannerisms or physical features. But Jennifer always figured it had more to do with their mindset. They thought alike. They both had mechanical brainwaves, which is what led John to being a Navy test pilot and Jennifer to being an Air Force F-16 mechanic.

As an egress technician, Tech. Sgt. Jennifer Yamnicky helps make sure aircrew members escape an aircraft alive if a crash is inevitable. So you can imagine her anguish when her father died in an airplane crash, and she was powerless to do anything to save him.

Her dad, John Yamnicky, a 71-year-old retired Navy fighter pilot, was a passenger on the ill-fated commercial airliner that slammed into the Pentagon during the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.

Jennifer, an Air National Guardsman with the 113th Maintenance Squadron at Andrews Air Force Base, Md., was at work the morning terrorists hijacked Los Angeles-bound American Airlines Flight 77 and forced it into the Pentagon. None of the 64 people aboard the aircraft survived.

"We'd already heard one airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center, but we figured it was a Cessna," said Jennifer, who mainly works on F-16 ejection seats and canopies. "When the second plane hit, things went haywire around here."

Her unit sprang into action and did what it was trained to do.

"We covered all the windows, locked all the doors and secured the area," she said.

Later, when a co-worker told her a third aircraft had just plowed into the Pentagon, Jennifer walked out the back door of an aircraft hangar, which is only about 12 miles from the Pentagon. She could see smoke billowing into the sky, and a strange feeling overcame her like a warning -- a sixth sense.

"We'd all been so busy securing the building that I hadn't had time to think about Dad," she said.

Her father had gotten on a plane at Dulles National Airport in Washington that morning and was headed to California.

Jennifer shook her head and quickly dismissed the terrifying idea. Nevertheless, the thought kept nagging at her.

Jennifer and John were very close. They only lived minutes away from each other and shared a love for raising horses and working on their Maryland farms. John had just helped Jennifer build a fence around her 10 acres of land. Even at 71, his strength amazed her. He'd throw 75-pound bails of hay to the barn loft as if tossing beanbag chairs. They'd have push-up contests. He could do 75 one-armed push-ups to Jennifer's 30 two-armed pushups. In her eyes, he was Superman -- larger than life even at 6-foot-1. His strength was always a comfort to her.

When Jennifer heard that the plane that crashed into the Pentagon had been headed for California, her father's destination, she got more nervous.

"I decided to call Mom to ask her what flight he was on," she said.

John and Jann had been married for 41 years. And for 41 years, he had put his itinerary on the refrigerator.

"He forgot to do it this time," Jennifer said. "I kept telling myself it wasn't his plane, but I guess I kind of knew. I knew it wasn't good, because there's no way he wouldn't have gotten in touch with us. But I kept imagining long lines at the phones with people calling family to let them know they were OK."

That's a phone call she never got.

Meanwhile, Jennifer's unit went on full alert. Her supervisor told her they were going to 24-hour operations, as F-16s scrambled in homeland defense mode. He told her she could go home and get some clothes to prepare for the long stay.

"When I drove home, I was so nervous that I was shaking," she said.

Jennifer wasn't home 10 minutes when her phone rang.

"I knew I didn't want to answer it," she said with a deep breath. "I picked up the phone, and it was my mom."

Her mom was so choked up that the only word she could muster was, "Jennifer."

"She couldn't say anything else, but she didn't have to," she said. "I told her I'd be right over. Then I called my boss and told him I wouldn't be coming back to work."

Before she drove to her mom's house, Jennifer took 10 minutes to collect herself.

"Basically, I totally lost control," she admitted. "I screamed and beat on the walls. No way they could have taken him from us."

John had eight grandchildren. which was good because he was a big kid himself. He had four children, two boys and two girls. At 34, Jennifer was the baby of the family. John loved to dance and was quite good at it. Of course, all the girls loved him. He flirted with everybody. He liked to have fun and knew how to have a good time. But, mostly, he went out of his way to help people. He had friends across the country. Jennifer admired his easy way with people and aspired to be like him.

Jennifer knew she had to let her emotions out, because she wanted to be strong for her mom.

"I put myself back together and then drove to Mom's house," she said. "I did a pretty good job of keeping it together. I called people I needed to call. I went through the motions. Later that night when I was alone, I broke down again. We're a close-knit family, so it was a very emotional time."