Goodbye Concorde

[Simmo]

I don't often find myself agreeing with Jeremy Clarkson. I'm sure he has annoyed most people at one time or another
but I read this the other day regarding the last flight of Concorde on which he was lucky to get a seat.
A blow to our pride, a blow to our nation, a catastrophe for us all.
This is part of a much longer piece regarding the flight.


October 26, 2003
Jeremy Clarkson: What a Wonderful Flight into National Failure

.....British Airways were keen that this, the final flight, should not be seen as a wake but rather a celebration of 27 remarkable years.
And to be honest, there was a celebratory mood both in the departure lounge and on the tarmac where all the pilots of the other early-morning flights sent goodwill messages.
However, at 3.24pm local time, as we dropped back down to Mach 0.98, the mood changed. As everyone realised that we had been the last people to fly faster than the speed of sound without a parachute, it was as though a veil of sadness had been draped over the cabin.
Over London we couldn’t help noticing the landmarks of modern Britain. The dome. The Millennium Bridge. The traffic jams. The Mirror offices. And here we were in the last reminder of how great and innovative we had once been. And we thought: what’s going to remind us now?
There was applause as the wheels touched down but in the next 40 minutes, as they unhooked the power and the crowds took photographs, we may as well have been at a funeral. The drink had flowed but the veil, by this time, had become a blanket.
I don’t feel sorry for the chairmen who will now need seven hours to get across the Atlantic. It was, after all, their meanness that caused this final flight in the first place.
I don’t feel sorry for the nation. It’s our own fault that we don’t make machines like this any more. I don’t even feel sorry for the people who’d struggled to keep Concorde flying these past few years: they’ll all get other jobs.
I do, however, feel sorry for the machine itself. It’s sitting in its shed now, wondering what it’s done wrong. Why did it not fly yesterday and why is there no sense that it will fly today? Why is nobody tinkering with its engines and vacuuming its carpets?
And what was that last flight all about? Why were so many people taking photographs and why, after 27 years, did every single one of Heathrow’s 30,000 employees turn out to watch it do what it was designed to do?
I like to believe that a machine does have a heart and a soul. I like to think of them as ordinary people think of dogs. They cannot read or write or understand our spoken words. But they understand what we’d like them to do in other ways. Go left. Go right. Go faster. Sit. Lie.
So go ahead. Think of Concorde as a dog that you’ve had in the family for 27 years. Think of the way it has never once let you down. And how thrilled it is when you feed it and pet it and take it out for a walk.

And now try to imagine how that dog would feel if you locked it up one night. And never went back.

[Mac@Bath]

Good post, Simmo!
I share your - and Jeremy (Clarksons!!!) - sentiments.
We NEED to have a club visit (or at least a lunch!) in its new home.
B 😎

[Andy Parish]

Based on signs I've seen as I've been driving past, it looks like it's due to open the back end of August.

If there is a lunch there, I'll (probably) be able to make it from work!

[Mark Morgan]

I too, would be more than interested in a visit, particularly if lunch is planned. 

[g-bobb]

I was lucky enough to have flown supersonic on this bird.
I would love to have a lunch meet to see Concorde again.