On January 15, 2009, at 3:20 p.m., Vallie Collins boarded US Airways flight 1549 at the LaGuardia airport in New York. The Maryville mother of three is an engineer for Tapemark Factory, a job that has her travel several times a year. She boarded the plane and took her aisle on the last row of the plane, and struck up a conversation about hang-gliding with her seatmate. The plane began to taxi. Ninety seconds later, Collins’s life changed forever.

   This is the story she shared with the students of the BLPA academy during an assembly on Monday, April 11. After a brief introduction by the academy dean, Mrs. Laura Watson, the bubbly and energetic Collins began to speak about her harrowing experience that would later be known nationally as, “The Miracle on the Hudson”.

   The Airbus A320 was initially bound for Charlotte, N.C. However, moments into the plane’s ascent, it collided with a flock of geese. “There was a BOOM!” said Collins. After her seatmate confirmed that they had hit some birds, Collins thought back to a previous experience flying. A pilot had once told her that the only things pilots are generally concerned about are birds and fire. After the collision, smoke began to appear on the left side of the plane. Collins said, “I thought, great. We’ve got birds and fire.”

   The plane began to descend. Between the first ninety seconds and two minutes, they dropped 3,200 feet. A frequent flyer, Collins recognized the signs. The engines were no longer functioning, and the plane was dropping. She said, “I thought I was living my last few minutes.” She sent a brief text message to her husband. “Our plane is crashing.”

   The next three and a half minutes were spent in silence. Collins said that later, many of the passengers were interviewed. She found that most people fell into two distinct groups in those few minutes. Either one saw their life flash before their eyes, or, like Collins, they thought about all of the things they were going to miss.

   Suddenly, there came a “calm, steady voice” over the PA system. Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger said two sentences, “This is the captain. Brace for impact.”

   “Brace, brace. Heads down. Brace, brace. Heads down,” the flight attendants chanted. Collins looked at her seatmate, who glanced out the window. “Be ready,” he said to her. “We’re going in the water.” Collins said she mentally prepared for the worst.

   The tail end of the plane crashed into the water at sixty mph. Collins, who was seated at the back, said “It was rough and violent, and everything was shaking.” She recalled her first thought after the plane settled. “Well, that wasn’t that bad!”

   But the eerie silence and calm that had befallen the plane moments earlier was gone. Chaos ensued. “People were yelling and screaming, and climbing over seats to get to the front.” The tail was rapidly sinking. Collins said the scariest moment for her came when she was standing in the galley, ankle deep in thirty-five degree water. “Suddenly, the water went from my ankles to my chest. I thought I would drown.” But then, Collins said, a peace came over her. She said, “I knew I had to get off that plane.”

   She began chanting to the confused passengers, “Go to the wings!” They began moving towards the front. “It was like walking uphill,” Collins said. “We’re going to make it. Keep moving, stay calm,” she continued to chant. Collins was one of the last of the 155 passengers off of the plane and on to the wing. From where she stood, Collins could see a ferry boat approaching. She knew then that she was going to make it. “‘Those people are going to save us. I’m not going to die today,’ I said,” Collins recalled.

   Collins took a moment to comment on the first responders. Had it not been for the first responders from New York and New Jersey, Collins is certain that there would not have been 155 survivors that day.

   Collins rode in a raft to the ferry, which transported them to the Weehawken Ferry Station in N.J. It was then that Collins remembered the text message she had sent earlier to her husband. She borrowed a phone and called him. She said, “Honey, I’m ok.” He responded, “Honey, call your mother.” After reassuring her mother that she was in fact fine, only freezing and wet, she was transported to the University of Hoboken medical hospital. It turned out that her husband’s cousin lived only a block away from the hospital, so Collins was able to spend the night with family.

   Collins says she learned several valuable lessons that day. “I learned about the importance of kindness…of empathy…of physical fitness…of perspective…and of time.” She says no one knows what moment could be their last, or what situations they’ll find themselves in. She stressed the importance of showing kindness to everyone, striving to be empathetic, and realizing that there is little worth getting really upset over, of maintaining physical fitness “because you never know when you might have to save your own life, or rescue someone else,” and, of course, making every moment count.

   Collins has flown 68 times since that day on the Hudson. “However, that next day wasn’t one of them.” When she finally arrived home, her mother-in-law pointed out a wall hanging that Collins has recently purchased without much thought. Across it, next to a tiny airplane, was written, “How great would life be if we lived a little bit of it every day.” Collins smiled as she said, “So that’s what I try to do…live a little bit each day…live as if everyday has been stolen from death.”