Alaska employees choke back tears as they deal with loss

COVERAGE Top story Feb. 1 Crash investigation focuses on jet's stabilizer Experts say no common thread in in-flight crashes Alaska employees choke back tears as they deal with loss At airports, grief and relief follow news of crash Jan. 31 Alaska Airlines jet crashes off California In rising swells and spreading oil, boats search for plane, people  REALVIDEO Feb. 1 Recording of final minutes of Flight 261 is released NTSB briefs press on crash Tragedy strikes Alaska Airlines Search and rescue mission continues off Calif. coast Officials address public regarding crash Jan. 31 Alaska Airlines Flight 261 crash This video clip is viewed using RealPlayer. Get RealPlayer | Help  THE VICTIMS List of passengers and crew aboard Flight 261 Biographical sketches of several passengers  ABOUT THE PLANE A look at McDonnell Douglas's MD-80 series More from the Boeing Web site  ABOUT ALASKA AIRLINES Alaska Airlines Web site Has its roots in a three-seat shuttle service begun in 1932 between Anchorage and Bristol Bay, Alaska. The service merged with Star Air Service in 1934 and, after several more mergers, adopted the name Alaska Airlines. With deregulation in 1979, Alaska began expanding throughout the West Coast and within a decade had tripled in size. Alaska now carries more than 12 million customers per year, and its route system serves more than 40 cities in Alaska, Canada, Mexico and five Western states. Alaska says its fleet of 88 Boeing jets is the youngest among all major airlines. Alaska planes are distinctive for the image of an Eskimo painted on their tails. Source: Associated Press  CRASH TIMELINE Reconstruction of the crash of Flight 261 Following is summary of the last radio exchanges of Alaska Airlines Flight 261, as described by John Hammerschmidt of the National Transportation Safety Board. These are not direct quotes from pilots and controllers, but are based on what the NTSB called a  rough transcript.  Times are Pacific Standard. 3:55 p.m. Last routine transmission before problems are reported. Los Angeles ATC (air traffic control center located in Palmdale, Calif.) clears Flight 261 to head for San Francisco at 31,000 feet. 4:10 p.m. Flight 261 advises it is having control difficulties and descends to 26,000 feet. Seconds later Flight 261 reports it is at 23,700 feet. Discussion about pilots having trouble controlling the plane. 10 second later ATC asks Flight 261 what altitude it wants to maintain. 4:11 p.m. ATC asks Flight 261 its condition. Flight 261 advises it is "kind of stabilized," in Hammerschmidt's words, and is going to do some troubleshooting. Flight 261 asks for clearance to fly between 20,000 and 25,000 feet. ATC gives clearance. 4:14 p.m. ATC asks if Flight 261 needs anything. Flight 261 responds that pilots are still working on the problem. Seconds later Discussion between air traffic controllers about handing off control of plane from one sector to the next. 4:15 p.m. ATC traffic control hands off to a new controller who was aware of its problems. Seconds later Flight 261 advises it has a jammed stabilizer and difficulty maintaining altitude. Pilots think they can maintain altitude and land at Los Angeles International Airport. 4:16 p.m. Flight 261 cleared to land at LAX. ATC asks if flight needs a lower altitude. Flight 261 says it needs to get to 10,000 feet and change configuration -- set the wing flaps to slow the plane down -- while over water. ATC issues clearance to 17,000 feet. Flight 261 says OK and advises it needs a block of altitudes. Last known transmission of Flight 261. 4:17 p.m. ATC advises Flight 261 to contact another sector on a different frequency. Transmission not acknowledged. 4:21 p.m. Flight 261 is lost off radar. Source: Associated Press

SEATAC, Wash. -- Alaska Airlines employees choked back tears and offered each other hugs as they returned to work Tuesday, hours after Flight 261 crashed off the California coast.

Of the 88 aboard, more than 30 were company employees, their friends and families returning home from vacation.

It's been "pretty brutal," said Alaska spokesman Jack Evans. "I think the impact still hasn't hit us."

The mood was somber at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport as employees resumed their workdays, checking in passengers and boarding flights for other destinations.

When asked about Flight 261, which fell from the sky Monday, two employees at the check-in counter started crying. The airline brought in grief counselors to talk to employees. Many were instructed not to talk to reporters.

Aside from three flight attendants from Seattle, there were three Alaska employees, four employees from Alaska's sister airline, Horizon, and 25 of their friends and family. They were all taking advantage of free employee standby passes for vacations to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

"Words fail me. Emotions flood. It still seems unbelievable," company Chairman and CEO John F. Kelly said in a statement. "With our excellent safety record, we haven't had to deal with an accident such as this in over a quarter of a century, so this is new to the vast majority of us."

Airline employees were not the only ones grieving. At John Hay Elementary in Seattle's Queen Anne neighborhood, the flag was lowered to half-staff in memory of four students -- three first-graders and one second-grader -- who were on Flight 261.

One of the students was traveling with her parents on the flight.

The other three Hay students were members of the same family. Blake, Miles and Coriande Clemetson died along with their 6-month-old brother, Spencer, and their parents, David and Carolyn Clemetson, in the crash.

On Tuesday, friends gathered at the Clemetson home, a two-story, blue wood frame house with a white porch across the front. Clemetson had remodeled it himself.

David Clemetson was a physician who specialized in internal medicine and infectious diseases. His wife was a stay-at-home mom who within a few weeks of moving in about three years ago "knew the names of everyone on the block," said Effie Cain, who lives across the street.

Daughters Blake and Coriande "were lively little girls. I could hear those little patent-leather shoes going up the steps" to their house, Cain said.

Miles, she said, "was a nice little guy" who had saved money earned doing special chores to buy a long-wanted scooter. He tooled around the neighborhood on it constantly.

At Rock Church Northwest in Monroe, the weekly prayer meeting turned into a time of mourning for the apparent loss of the nondenominational congregation's spiritual leaders, Linda and Joe Knight.

The Knights were coming home from Puerto Vallarta, where they had been doing missionary work in recent years.