On August 10, 2018, Richard Russell, now remembered as “Sky King”, stole a commercial airplane and took it for one last flight before crashing into a remote island. He wasn’t a pilot. He had never even flown before. He said he learnt how to fly the aircraft from a video game. He was a baggage handler at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, spending his days loading and unloading planes for people who had bought their right to fly. And for once, he wanted to feel what they felt.
Every man wants to fly, not just in the way the Wright brothers did, but in the way Icarus did. For freedom, recklessly, beautifully, and without permission.
The Price of Flight
If a man wants to fly in this world, this world that sells dreams with a price tag, he has to be in a nosedive. Flight, in its purest form, is not for people like Richard Russell. It’s not for people like us. The sky doesn’t belong to us.
Society hands out wings, but not for the sake of flight. You want to fly? Pay for a ticket. Train for years. Earn your licences, climb through the ranks, and only then maybe will you be allowed a taste of the sky. We are all Icaruses in a world where Zeus only lends wings if we commercialise them in the worst way.
Sky King knew this. He knew that if he wanted to feel the raw, unfiltered rush of flying, it would never be given to him. He would have to take it.
Oh how they make us pay
When we do not walk their way
With their hands in my pockets
And a number by my name
~The ladder, Margolnick
The Last Ride
Richard Russell was 29 years old when he stole the Horizon Air Q400. He was cheerful, even in his final moments. His conversation with the jet pilots sent to intercept him was laced with almost childlike wonder, his excitement at doing barrel rolls, his disbelief at the view from the cockpit, and his awe at what he had taken for himself.
He kept reassuring the pilots that he had no intention to hurt anyone and that he was sorry he made them work so much for him.
‘No, I told you, I don’t want to hurt no one. I just want you to whisper sweet nothings into my ear.’
‘Shoot, man, I’m sorry about this, I hope this doesn’t ruin your day.’
“I’ve got a lot of people that care about me. It’s gonna disappoint them to hear that I did this,” he said. But he didn’t stop.
When air traffic control tried to guide him down, he refused. “I don’t want to. I was kinda hoping that was gonna be it.”
For 75 minutes, he was free. He didn’t follow flight paths. He didn’t obey the rules of the sky. He looped, he rolled, he played. He felt, for once, in control of his own story.
And then, the fuel ran out.
I said, all my life, patiently
I′ve been putting in the time
Grinding my teeth
Remember me.
I won′t climb, no
I won′t climb, no
This ladder to the top to see where it goes
~ The Ladder, margolnick
The Invisible and the Overlooked
People walk past each other every day, their eyes in their world, their minds locked in routines. No acknowledgement, no recognition of the human beings around them. How many people do we pass by, never really seeing them until they are gone? How many people only become visible when they decide to leave the ground for good?
It’s not that people are incapable of love, but so often, love is transactional. We extend kindness in exchange for admiration, for companionship, for someone to sing our praises. Is that why we are kind? To raise an army of praisers? Is our love just a recruitment strategy?
The truth is, we don’t stick around unless love is returned. We are there for people only until they love us back. And then, if that love is too heavy, too complicated, too demanding, we rub it off our coats like dust from an old room we don’t want to enter again. We don’t mean to be cruel, but we are.
Don’t Let Go Of The Hand
Some people think so little of themselves, and some people think too much. But every single one of them is worth something. Every single one of them wants to be seen, even if they don’t say it. Even if they ask you to leave.
If someone asks you to leave, please don’t. Please, I beg of you, don’t let go of that hand. It will go cold. It will never hold anything again. They don’t believe they can be loved, and it might feel impossible to convince them otherwise. But you have to try.
Because in a world that sells flight at a price too high for most, too many people will take to the sky the only way they can – alone, with no intention of coming back.
“It’s better to have one day as a pilot, than a lifetime as a baggage handler”
-Sky King.
The incident with Richard was a true testament to male depression. So many men walk into a room full of laughter and conversation, hiding the tears they shed just moments before. Richard was friendly, grounded, and down to earth all while knowing he was about to die. This quiet suffering is something so many men resonate with.
Male depression is often ignored, overlooked, and dismissed. That needs to change.
After Richard’s final flight, his story resonated across the world. Online, men began sharing their struggles, breaking the silence, and encouraging each other to speak out. A movement was born—not just to mourn Sky King, but to remind every man who feels invisible that they are not alone.
And so, I’ll end this the way the online videos ended.
Fly high, Sky King.
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