DC-area crash recovery has ties to another air tragedy
PORTSMOUTH, Va. (WAVY) — Dignity for the deceased and caution for the wreckage.
That's what a retired Navy admiral said about the task underway in the Potomac River and how it ties to another air tragedy. On July 17, 1996, 230 people died when TWA flight 800 went down in the Atlantic Ocean, 12 minutes after takeoff from New York's John F. Kennedy International Airport.
Retired Rear Admiral Kelvin Dixon was in Washington, D.C. the day before Wednesday's American Airlines crash.
'I was in Washington yesterday for a meeting,' Dixon said. 'When I landed home in New Jersey, I found out later on about this tragic accident. It really made me look back at the recovery operations with the team with Flight 800.'
Then a lieutenant commander, Dixon was in command of New Jersey-based Shore Boat Unit 23. Before Unit 23 reached the wreckage, Dixon advised the sailors on how to mentally prepare for the mission.
'They could see bodies that are intact,' Dixon said. 'They may find bodies that are not intact. Of course, then [they may find] body parts. To retrieve those, they have special bags and special techniques that they use to make sure they don't destroy any of [the remains,].'
In the Atlantic and now on the Potomac, it's all-hands-on-deck.
'We went through it with Flight 800 by looking for and working with divers,' Dixon said. 'We worked with Navy divers and the divers out of New York City, [the] FBI and so forth. So I'm quite sure all of those folks are possibly onsite there in Washington. It's going to be a daunting task for them, especially in those waters now. At least they're in the Potomac.'
Regina Mobley: What are the factors they have to take into consideration when they have to handle those remains with dignity while preserving the aircraft?
USN Rear Admiral (ret.)Kelvin Dixon: It's pretty daunting. It's all based on what they see and how they have to go in. If they're inside the actual aircraft underwater, they will have to cut things open, pull things apart and keep the the aircraft intact as much as possible without destroying any of the evidence that could possibly help you determine what happened in this incident.
Dixon also said the Navy worked closely with the National Weather Service to determine how currents could affect the delicate recovery.
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Newsweek
9 hours ago
- Newsweek
Therapist Mom Shares Simple Phrases She Teaches Her Kids to Stay Safe
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. A mom of two has shared the five phrases she's taught her kids to keep them safe. Colorado-based Andrea Brambila (@brambila_bits) posted a carousel on Instagram outlining the key language tools she's learned counseling kids as a therapist who's "seen too much." "Are these ground-breaking, earth-shattering phrases? No!" Brambila wrote in her caption. "But they have helped both of my children feel confident advocating for themselves." Mom Andrea Brambila and her 3-year-old daughter in the kitchen with their backs to the camera. Mom Andrea Brambila and her 3-year-old daughter in the kitchen with their backs to the camera. @brambila_bits "I need some space" is the first phrase her 3-year-old daughter learned to say when she's feeling overwhelmed or frustrated, particularly if she's playing with another child. It's become a healthy outlet that helps her avoid lashing out physically and instead set boundaries clearly and calmly. "Clearly asserting her need for space to feel safe and comfortable is a lifelong skill," Brambila wrote on the text overlay. "I don't keep secrets from mommy and daddy." This phrase, Brambila said, is especially crucial in protecting children from potential grooming by predators who often create secrecy and a false sense of specialness as a way to manipulate their victims. "Teaching my kids to say out loud that they will not keep secrets in and of itself makes them a less desirable target because it signals that they won't likely keep anything inappropriate to themselves," she explained. According to Brambila, many children she's worked with have expressed that something felt "off" in how an abuser interacted with them, but they didn't have the language—or confidence—to say so. Giving kids permission and power to decline uncomfortable interactions by saying: "I don't want to play like that" can be a protective factor. "I've encouraged my kids from day one to express when they aren't comfortable with someone's behaviors, and my husband and I have shown that we will help them protect their boundaries when needed," Brambila wrote. Respecting boundaries is also key for her children's safety. "You need to respect my boundaries" is a phrase Brambila often hears from her daughter. Whether it's another child ignoring her requests for space or a situation where she feels pushed, the mom sees this phrase as a verbal shield her kids can carry into adolescence and beyond. "Hearing her advocate for herself in this manner will immediately take note, and I hope she'll carry this language with her when she begins dating," she said. Brambila's post has received over 82,000 likes, and she was praised for her advice in the comments by hundreds of other Instagram users. "It's so sad we have to do this but all so true. Thank you for these tips. I have two young girls and teaching them the power of their voice is so important in this world," a fellow mom wrote. "Love this, will be using these for my kids," another user added. Brambila is clear with her followers and explained that she doesn't live in fear as a parent. "But when it comes to safety, teaching how to be proactive is always a priority for me," she concluded.
Yahoo
16 hours ago
- Yahoo
Mega Millions player misses $302 million jackpot — but wins big in Washington
A Mega Millions player in Washington just missed the $302 million jackpot but won $3 million, lottery officials said. The ticket matched five winning numbers but not the Mega Ball with a 3x multiplier in the drawing Friday, June 20, lottery officials said. A ticket sold in New Jersey won $4 million and one sold in Georgia won $2 million in the drawing. Nobody won the grand prize, which rises to an estimated $326 million, with a cash option of approximately $145.7 million, for the next drawing Tuesday, June 24, the national Mega Millions site said. The winning numbers were 26, 49, 58, 61 and 63 with a Mega Ball of 9, Washington's Lottery said. Nearly 310,000 other tickets sold in the United States also won prizes ranging from $10 to $40,000 in the drawing, the lottery said. The Mega Millions jackpot was last hit April 18, when an Ohio player won the $112 million grand prize, lottery officials said. To score the jackpot in the Mega Millions, a player must match all five white balls and the gold Mega Ball. The odds of scoring a jackpot prize are 1 in 290,472,336. Tickets cost $5 and can be bought on the day of the drawing, but sales times vary by state. Drawings are held Tuesdays and Fridays at 11 p.m. ET and can be streamed online. Mega Millions is played in 45 states, Washington, D.C., and the U.S. Virgin Islands. Many people can gamble or play games of chance without harm. However, for some, gambling is an addiction that can ruin lives and families. If you or a loved one shows signs of gambling addiction, you can seek help by calling the national gambling hotline at 1-800-522-4700 or visiting the National Council on Problem Gambling website. Want to hit the jackpot? These are the luckiest states to buy a Mega Millions ticket Lottery player checks ticket with clerk, then clerk's 'eyes opened so wide' Man bought lottery ticket and had to run back into SC store when he saw prize
Yahoo
20 hours ago
- Yahoo
My 2 kids and I are living with my parents before moving to Chicago. I'm learning asking for support isn't a weakness.
My husband and I lived with my parents when we had our first kid, and now, I live with them again. He started a new job in Chicago, and our two kids and I are living with them before we join him. I'm learning that it's not a weakness to ask for support, as they help me with coparenting tasks. This spring, I moved back in with my parents. Again. The first time was early in the pandemic, when my daughter was a newborn and the world felt like a terrifying science experiment. We had been living in Brooklyn, and when the hospital barred partners from delivery rooms, we started calling doctors, midwives, anyone who might deliver our baby in the rural town in New Jersey where my parents live. Nobody was interested: it was a pandemic. Finally, my mom begged her own doctor, who said yes. True New Yorkers, we didn't have a car. My dad picked us up in his little red one, which we packed the car with diapers, onesies, and our desperate hopes. We thought we'd stay for two weeks. We stayed for five months. That time was a blur of fear, early parenthood fog, and endless coffee, made every morning by my dad, who claims this is the secret to my parents' 40-year marriage. We walked the baby in loops around the neighborhood, discovering a covered bridge across the river and a nature path that looped around the local playground. We watched old movies. I yelled at my dad for finishing a jigsaw puzzle we were supposed to do together. It was chaos. It was unexpectedly sweet. It was our version of making it work. Now I'm back, but this time I have two kids, ages 3 and 5. My husband recently started a new job in Chicago, and while we search for a home and finish the school year, the kids and I are here in New Jersey with my mom and dad. I braced myself for stress. For tight quarters, intergenerational friction, the awkwardness of not really having my own kitchen. (Why are there three opened jars of Dijon mustard in the fridge? Who knows? Not me.) I was preparing for the grind of solo parenting without the solo space. But what I got instead surprised me: a crash course in co-parenting. A soft, sometimes messy, always helpful reminder that parenting doesn't have to be a two-person — or one-person — job. My mom makes lunches and snacks and champions the "car bagel" every school morning. She helps with laundry and is always ready to distract a cranky kid with a game of Chutes & Ladders, a hunk of cheddar, or both. My dad reads bedtime stories in his big, cozy voice. He's taken over bike lessons — my daughter is almost ready to try to ride training-wheel free — and has become fluent in the nuanced language of playground drama. ("No, Zadie, Sammy is the one with the orange shorts. The other one is mean.") There's something both vulnerable and liberating about relinquishing control. About letting other grown-ups take the reins without needing everything to be done my way. It's not just logistical help (though, wow, it's amazing to take a shower without three interruptions). It's emotional support. It's feeling like I'm not parenting in a vacuum. My parents aren't perfect. Neither am I. But somehow, in this full house of Goldfish crumbs and "Moana" many times over, we've landed on a rhythm that works. It turns out, "the village" doesn't have to be a mythical concept or a Pinterest fantasy. Sometimes it's just your parents down the hall, quietly loading the dishwasher while you collapse onto the couch. I've learned that letting people help is an act of trust. That asking for support isn't weakness — it's resilience. That family can look like a lot of things: one big house, three generations, and a nightly debate about who tucks in and who checks in with a kiss five minutes later (not four, not six). In a few weeks, we'll move into our new life in Chicago. I'll miss the unexpected closeness of this time. The way my kids light up when they (plus their stuffy sidekicks) see their grandparents first thing in the morning. The way my dad makes me coffee, even when I forget to ask. This season has been exhausting and beautiful and loud. It's reminded me that parenting, at its best, is never a solo act. It's a chorus — sometimes off-key, often out of sync, but somehow perfectly imperfect. Read the original article on Business Insider