Washington Reagan National Airport Midair Collision: A Year Later

Washington Reagan National Airport Midair Collision: A Year Later

Updated Analysis

I wrote my initial analysis of the DCA collision on January 30, 2025, within hours of the tragedy. Since then, the NTSB has released thousands of pages of investigative materials, conducted more than 30 hours of hearings, and interviewed dozens of government officials, military personnel, and airline executives. This revision incorporates those findings.

The picture that emerges is darker than the early speculation suggested. While misidentification and technology limitations played their predictable roles, the real story is institutional failure—warnings ignored, proposals shelved, capacity prioritized over safety. The aircraft and their crews were set up to fail by a system that saw the collision coming and looked away.

The Collision

On January 29, 2025, PSA Airlines Flight 5432, a Bombardier CRJ-700 operating for American Airlines, descended through 400 feet on short final to Runway 33 at Washington Reagan National. The crew had been switched from Runway 1 minutes earlier—a routine maneuver at DCA to manage the airport's punishing traffic flow.

Simultaneously, an Army UH-60 Black Hawk designated PAT25 transited Helicopter Route 4 along the Potomac River. The helicopter was conducting a night vision goggle evaluation flight under Visual Flight Rules, which placed the burden of separation squarely on the crew. DCA Tower issued the standard instruction: keep the jet in sight, maintain clearance. The helicopter crew acknowledged. Moments later, the aircraft collided.

Sixty-seven people died. It was the first major U.S. commercial air disaster in 16 years.

The NTSB's investigation leaves little doubt that the helicopter crew misidentified the traffic. Radio transcripts and video analysis suggest they were tracking a different aircraft—likely a departing aircraft—while the CRJ-700 approached them from above. Night vision goggles exacerbated the problem. NVGs, as I’ve discussed previously, narrow the visual field and compress depth perception, particularly in urban environments saturated with artificial light. The crew believed they had traffic in sight. They were wrong.

The Airspace Design

Here's what matters: even if both aircraft had flown their routes perfectly, the design provided only 75 feet of vertical separation where Helicopter Route 4 crossed the Runway 33 approach path. Seventy-five feet—barely the wingspan of the CRJ-700. Any westward drift by the helicopter toward the river's center erased that margin entirely.

The helicopter was flying above Route 4's 200-foot altitude limit when it collided. Post-incident testing revealed that UH-60L altimeters routinely read 80 to 130 feet low—a known issue. Whether the crew knew they were high is unclear. What is clear is that the route design left no room for error.

FAA data analyzed after the crash identified more than 15,000 close encounters between helicopters and commercial aircraft near DCA from October 2021 through December 2024. Nearly 18 percent of helicopters on Route 4 exceeded altitude limits. The data was there. The risk was quantified. Nothing was done.

The 2013 Near Miss

In 2013, a Republic Airways Embraer jet on a circling approach to Runway 33 nearly collided with a helicopter on Route 4 at the same location. The helicopter turned the wrong way after a controller error, but both aircraft avoided disaster. Controllers immediately proposed airspace changes. Their proposals were denied—repeatedly.

The reasons varied: military operational requirements, lack of charting standards for "hot spots," and bureaucratic inertia. The warnings flashed for over a decade. The system kept running.

Technology and Its Limits

The CRJ-700's TCAS II was operational but did not issue a Resolution Advisory. Below 1,000 feet AGL, TCAS suppresses RAs to prevent nuisance alerts from aircraft on the ground during final approach. A Traffic Advisory may have sounded around 400 feet, but reaction time at that altitude is measured in seconds. TCAS performed as intended. The design was inadequate for this scenario.

The UH-60 lacked a compatible collision-avoidance system. Military helicopters are not required to carry TCAS-compatible equipment, even when operating in the country's busiest civilian airspace. PAT25 was equipped with ADS-B, but whether its transmissions integrated with the jet's systems in time is uncertain. The NTSB has noted that requiring compatible avoidance technology on military rotorcraft would mitigate these risks. No such requirement existed.

Traffic Management and Political Pressure

The runway switch from Runway 1 to Runway 33 was driven by volume. DCA operates at the edge of its capacity, and controllers regularly exceed safe arrival rates to accommodate demand. A 2023 proposal to reduce arrivals by approximately four per hour was rejected for what NTSB interviews describe as "political" reasons. Airlines and lawmakers wanted maximum throughput at this conveniently located airport. Safety margins were secondary.

American Airlines, the airport's dominant carrier, scheduled flights that concentrated arrivals in specific windows, intensifying congestion. A fleet shift toward larger aircraft that cannot use Runway 33 forced more traffic onto Runway 1, thereby increasing reliance on last-minute circling approaches. The late runway change placed Flight 5432 in conflict with Route 4 traffic that had no reason to expect it there.

Controller turnover compounded the problem. DCA Tower has cycled through 13 managers since 2013, including five in the past five years. Controllers reported fatigue, inadequate training on mixed fixed-wing and rotorcraft operations, and a culture that normalized risk.

The Constrained Environment

DCA's airspace is uniquely constrained by the Flight Restricted Zone and Prohibited Area P-56, which encircle key government facilities. High-density commercial operations share space with military and emergency flights. Helicopter routes, such as Route 4, thread between fixed-wing paths with minimal buffer.

Post-2013 proposals to relocate Route 4 eastward were denied due to military operational requirements. Attempts to add "hot spot" warnings to charts failed because no standards existed. Army pilots assumed the published routes provided procedural separation. They were wrong. VFR routes lack defined lateral boundaries, and FAA data indicate that 80 percent of nearby helicopter flights are military, thereby heightening exposure.

The NTSB characterized these conditions as "flashing warning signs for years." National security and capacity demands overrode safety. The system continued unchanged until it failed catastrophically.

The Aftermath

The FAA moved quickly after the crash. The hazardous segment of Route 4 was removed. Mixed traffic operations within five miles of DCA were banned. Visual separation procedures in that zone were eliminated. Charts were revised.

The NTSB's final report will likely recommend airspace redesigns, mandatory collision-avoidance technology for military aircraft operating in civilian airspace, reduced arrival rates, and improved coordination between military and civilian operators. Liability questions remain open. The FAA failed to act on years of data and proposals. The military operated aircraft above altitude limits in a poorly designed corridor. Congressional oversight may force reforms in slot allocation and capacity management.

Conclusion

This was not an accident in any meaningful sense of the word. It was a collision waiting to happen in airspace designed with insufficient margins, managed under unsustainable pressure, and overseen by institutions that ignored warnings for over a decade.

Human factors—misidentification, NVG limitations, altitude deviations—were proximate causes. The root causes lie in systemic failures: flawed airspace design, rejected safety proposals, political prioritization of capacity over prudence, and inadequate integration of collision avoidance technology across military and civilian operations.

One year later, the lessons are clear. Whether they drive meaningful change depends on whether institutions value safety over convenience. History suggests skepticism is warranted. The industry and regulators will monitor compliance with new procedures, but lasting reform requires confronting the political and operational pressures that created the hazard in the first place.

As additional findings emerge, this analysis will be updated accordingly.