Priority in the Sky — A Cessna, a Jumbo Jet, and a Female Air Traffic Controller

“Hey, is that jumbo jet seriously saying that?”

I first heard this story back in my twenties, when I was in the U.S. doing flight training.

One day I was hanging out with some friends from the flying club when one of them shared a great little episode. It was about a real radio exchange that happened at San Francisco International Airport—between a Cessna, a jumbo jet, and an air traffic controller.

It wasn’t some made-up pilot joke, either. Someone had actually recorded the ATC frequency, so the whole thing was preserved on tape. In other words, this really happened.

The reality of Japanese skies

I fly Cessnas in Japan too, but to be honest, the “priority hierarchy” in Japanese airspace can feel pretty harsh.

Even if you enter controlled airspace first, if a heavy jet comes along, the light aircraft gets told to wait. Nagoya Airport used to be a textbook example of that. You follow instructions properly, fly your pattern just as cleared—and then with a single “hold overhead,” you’re left circling around and around.

Safety first, of course. I understand that.
But I’d be lying if I said there weren’t moments when it felt a bit like we were second-class citizens up there.

A moment over San Francisco

Anyway, back to the story.

On this particular day, one of the busiest hubs in the world—San Francisco International—was, as usual, packed with traffic. A little Cessna was on approach, coming in to land at this major international airport used by airlines from all over the globe.

According to my friend, who was listening in to the ground-based radio at the time, the place was absolutely slammed with inbound and outbound traffic.

Into that mess came a Lufthansa jumbo jet.
After a long-haul flight, the crew clearly wanted to get on the ground as soon as possible.

But at that moment, a Cessna was already inside the control zone and in the middle of its approach.

Controller vs. Jumbo

First, the controller gave instructions to the jumbo:

“Reduce speed. Cessna will land first.”

Perfectly normal call. Safety first. The aircraft already established on approach has priority. It’s written right there in the rules—a basic of basics.

But the jumbo jet’s pilots weren’t having it.

“We want to land first. Have the Cessna go around.”

You can almost hear every pilot listening go, Are you kidding me?
Maybe they were tired. Long-haul fatigue, end of duty, you name it.

Still, the controller didn’t budge.

“The Cessna has right-of-way. Reduce speed and stand by.”

The jumbo came back again:

“We’ve just come in from a long flight. Let us land first!”

At this point, they were basically whining. Full diva mode.
But this is where things got really good.

“Just show me a $20,000 turn”

The controller calmly cleared the Cessna to land, then turned back to the jumbo:

“Lufthansa XXX, go around.”

Apparently, you could feel the frequency tense up at that moment.

The jumbo’s pilot—clearly furious—came back with:

“Do you know it costs ten thousand dollars every time a jumbo goes around?!”

Considering fuel burn, airspace congestion, delays, slot times—sure, maybe it really does cost something like that.

But the controller’s reply was absolutely legendary:

“Just show me a $20,000 turn.”

In other words: If you’re going to complain, then give me a go-around so good it’s worth twice that.

The sense of humor. The composure. Total perfection.

True service is calm and firm

The controller that day was a woman.

And her voice—through the recording—was incredibly calm. Unshaken. Steady from start to finish.

The first time I heard that tape, I was blown away.
I remember thinking, Man, that is cool.

In that moment, American airspace felt incredibly free—but also firmly grounded in rules, and above all, fair to everyone.

Jumbo or Cessna, it doesn’t matter. If you’re established on approach first, you have priority. If not, you go around. That’s it. It’s not about size, status, or company—it’s about sequence and safety.

Because they stick to that basic principle, order is maintained in the sky.

In the sky, everyone is equal

Even now, every time I get on an airplane, I think about that story.

Up there, titles and social status mean nothing.

A small Cessna, as long as it follows the rules, gets the priority it deserves—
and there’s an air traffic controller making sure that happens.

As long as people like that woman in San Francisco are on the frequency,
the sky will stay safe—and beautiful.

To that controller in San Francisco:
Thank you.

I hope someday I’ll get to fly in that airspace again.