ere it is," the father said to his son as they stood before the building.

"It's round," the child said, looking up and shielding the sun with one hand and holding his father's hand with the other.

"And made of bricks," the father chuckled. The new building warmly resembled an old fashioned train station. Above them was a large embossed teal sign which read "Museum of Cockpit Voice Recorders". They walked in.

"Our footsteps echo," the child said as they approached the ticket counter. The woman at the counter cocked her head and smiled.

"Hello and welcome to the Museum of Cockpit Voice Recorders. How old is he?" she asked, smiling at the boy. The father glanced up at the ticket guide and said, "Uh, five."

"Dad, I'm almost seven," the child said.

"Oh that's all right," the woman said, "you can be five today," and winked at the father. The father sheepishly handed her a bill and the woman produced two tickets. The two walked down a small velvet path where a man was waiting by a turnstile.

"Tickets please," the man said in a sing-song voice and smiled. The father gave him the tickets.

"Enjoy your stay," the man said.

"We will," the boy said and the two pushed through the turnstile and went into the museum. Inside, the museum was a round, well-lighted cavernous room with several high-walled booths lining the walls. In front of each booth was a velvet rope and a stand with a button. Father and son walked over to the first booth. In the booth was a cockpit voice recorder. The father pressed the button. A light shone on the recorder and a voice began speaking:

he Cockpit Voice Recorder, or CVR, first used in 1961, is a companion device to the Flight Data Recorder. The CVR records the ambient sounds in a cockpit by the use of a microphone which is usually located on the overhead instrument panel between the two pilots. Recorded sounds will include engine and control panel noises, the sound of flaps and landing gear being deployed, various human conversations, and many other relevant sounds which can give vital clues as to the many varied causes of airplane and jet crashes. Due to the fact that conversations are recorded by this device, including those between pilot and co-pilot, pilot and air traffic control, pilot and cabin crew, or crew and passengers, the CVR is treated very differently than information collected by the FDR. Specifically, the CVR can record such relevant information as human failure, illness or other sort of incapacitation, criminal activity, or any number of other crash-related circumstances not recorded by the FDR. The CVR is sometimes known in the media as the black box. In this museum, you will experience first-hand the bravery and the courage of the many flight crews who have faced the unpredictable dangers of air flight, and you will grow to appreciate the importance, reliability, and ultimate lifesaving potential of this little 'black box'. Because of certain legal restrictions the airlines pertaining to these various calamities will not be named."

The light shut off.

"It's red, not black," the little boy said, and they moved on to the next booth. The placard read "Flight 435, 1972. DC9." In this booth were stand-up cutouts of a smiling flight crew. Behind them was a photo montage of the passengers. To the side, was the battered flight recorder recovered from the wreckage. The father pushed the button and a light gradually illuminated the cutouts, and quietly, solemn music began to play:

light 435 was traveling from Portland, Oregon to Phoenix, Arizona with a passenger list of 137 and a flight crew of eight. The time was 9:38 PM. High above the redwoods of northern California, during a storm, and while the passengers were relaxing into their flight, the CVR recorded this conversation in the cockpit:

Pilot: What's the wind?

Co-Pilot: 26 to 44 knots. Very windy. Turbulence.

Pilot: Windshear.

Co-Pilot: Yep.

Pilot: Let's drop altitude a bit.

Co-Pilot: Roger. Cutting under the clouds.

Pilot: A thousand feet? Okay, keep it level now.

Co-Pilot: We're not leveling.

Pilot: Why?

Copilot: Trim, uh, trim problem, it seems.

Pilot: Jiggle it.

Copilot: I did, we're still descending. Rapidly. Jesus!

Pilot: San Fran, San Fran, this is 435 from Portland, over.

San Fran: Roger 435.

Copilot: Still descending. Control Unresponsive.

Pilot: We've got a stabilizer trim problem, can we land there? Emergency.

San Fran: Hold 435. Roger, clear to land. I'll steer you guys.

Pilot: Harry, can you hold it, glide us in?

Copilot: Shit!

Pilot: Jesus, pull up!

Copilot: Oh God!

Unidentified screams.

"That was the last recorded transmission from flight 435," the narration said. "All crew and passengers perished when the jet crashed into the Six Rivers national forest in Northern California. The sudden loud sound at the end of the recording was the DC9 hitting the first tree, which destroyed the cockpit and stopped the recording. Subsequent investigation of the wreckage turned up worn out screw holes in the stabilizer trim system which eventually caused structural damage and, in the end, loss of vertical control; though if it wasn't for the Cockpit Voice Recorder, the investigators may never have discovered this information, which ultimately led to eighteen DC9 recalls the following year."

The light on the crew and montage of the passengers slowly dimmed, and the somber music faded. The father straightened up, ruffled his son's hair and smiled at him.

"C'mon, let's see what's next. Don't you love museums," he asked.

"Sort of," the boy said. The two walked to the next exhibit, but before they got there, a man approached them wearing striped overalls and an old fashioned engineers cap. He bent down.

"Hello there, young man."

"Hello," the boy said.

"Around these parts I'm known as Engineer Bill. What's your name?"

"Jimmy."

"Jimmy. That's a good name. Say, have you ever been on a long train ride?"

"No."

"Well, it just so happens that I've got two tickets here for fifty percent off a train ride anywhere in the good ole USA. Best way to see the country, son."

"Well," the father said and took the tickets.

"We could go see grandma in Wisconsin," the boy said excitedly.

"Yeah," the father said, "yeah we could. Hey thanks, Engineer Bill," the father said, holding up the tickets.

"Don't mention it, just a little thank you from the Museum of Cockpit Voice Recorders. Don't forget to visit our celebrity wing, opening up next month. Bye now." Father and son walked on to the next exhibit entitled 'The Crash of Flight 362".