Airline Employee Helps Autistic Boy Beat Fear of Flying

The summer camp seemed custom-made for Adam Hillinger. It is a Jewish camp with a program for autistic children--exactly what Adam’s Jewish parents wanted for their 10-year-old autistic son.

But Adam lives in Irvine. The camp is nearly 2,500 miles away in upstate New York. And when he visited John Wayne Airport for a practice flight to San Francisco, his mother discovered that Adam disliked the notion of jet travel so much so that summer camp suddenly seemed out of reach.

“He just lost it,” said his mother, Sheila. Adam got on the floor of the terminal and froze, terrified. “By the end, the attendants had tears in their eyes, watching him.”

The story could have ended with that aborted flight.

But Adam met a Northwest Airlines employee named Jan Bernel, and the great experiment began. For nearly two weeks, Bernel met the Hillingers at Gate 3 at 6:45 a.m. to help guide Adam onto a vacant Northwest jetliner--even though the family was ticketed to fly a rival airline.

The first day, Adam took 25 minutes just to conquer the tunnel-like jet way to the plane.

But on Monday, he sailed down the jet way like a pro with his knapsack and a Dr. Seuss hat, looking like any eager child bound for camp. He landed safely with his parents seven hours later at Newark International Airport and arrived Tuesday at Kutz Camp in Warwick, N.Y., for a 10-day stay.

When the jetliner took off from Orange County, Adam grabbed his mother’s arm apprehensively, she reported Monday night from a New Jersey hotel room. But once the plane was aloft, he became transfixed watching the clouds.

Sheila Hillinger gives Bernel full credit for teaching Adam how to fly. As the parent of an autistic child, she often wonders how the world will treat her child.

After the last few weeks, she said, “You get hopeful that there are angels out there.”

Boarding a jetliner seems a simple task, especially in this frequent-flyer 1990s world.

But for children with autism, a developmental disorder of brain function, basic tasks, especially new ones, can prove formidable.

“They said, ‘Time to board,’ and we got up, and he just froze,” Sheila Hillinger said, recalling the attempt to fly to San Francisco. “It’s the way I felt when I learned you have to go up the hill to learn to ski.”

For autistic children, any closed, confined space in a new situation can be frightening, said Dr. Edward Ritvo, a professor at UCLA Medical School. “They don’t like change.”

But Sheila Hillinger and her husband, Mark, both teachers, wanted their son to be able to attend the program.

So through a chain of acquaintances they made contact with Bernel, a Northwest customer service agent and secretary at John Wayne Airport.

Bernel volunteered her time when she heard Adam’s story.

For more than a week, she gave up her morning coffee breaks to help acquaint Adam with air travel.

“I hate to take any credit, because he did all the work,” she said.

The key prop: a Northwest jetliner that pulls up to Gate 3 shortly after 6:45 a.m., leaving again at 8:30 for Detroit.

On the first day of what became known as “Operation Airport,” the Hillingers met Bernel at the gate with Adam, who was wrapped in his Winnie the Pooh blanket. He edged down the jet way until “one more step, and he’d be on the airplane. And he just stopped,” Sheila Hillinger said.

The next day, Adam sauntered down the jet way but again stopped short at the plane entrance. His father finally wrapped him in his blanket and tried carrying him on board. Adam’s arms flailed, and he grabbed the door frame tightly.

“He kicked and hollered and screamed,” Bernel said. “But once he was on the airplane, it was like a whole different ballgame.”

Adam had discovered a new world. He inspected the passenger seats and ventured into the cockpit, even trying the co-pilot’s seat. And Bernel introduced him to all visitors, whether the caterer or mechanic.

On the third day, Adam ran down the jet way and right onto the plane.

The next day, Bernel tried something different. Adam boarded the plane with actual passengers, his boarding pass in hand. After disembarking, he wanted to go back on the plane again, only to find another passenger in “his” seat. So he showed the passenger his boarding pass, Bernel said.

Bernel was using behavior therapy, introducing new tasks slowly, Ritvo said--the perfect technique.

On Monday morning, Bernel accompanied the Hillingers to Gate 7 and their America West flight. Mark Hillinger carried a bag with his son’s Winnie the Pooh blanket--”Just in case,” he said.

But Adam looked almost nonchalant.

Unable to see to the end of the jet way, Bernel strode after her young charge, emerging a few minutes later. “Right to his seat,” she reported with a smile.