I don't remember exactly when this happened, but I'd bet it was sometime in late 1992. It is typical for a controller to operate more than one frequency at once. We see this even today, especially on Center frequencies where, for example, Atlanta Center might be monitoring and working four frequencies at once. Usually this happens when business is quite slow. Not hard to do when all four combined have only two airplanes. Sometimes though it tests the limit of the controllers sanity and I sympathize with them during these frustrating times. Keep it short and sweet and no special requests when the controller is so obviously overworked. Want to go direct to destination? Ah, let's wait until the next guy, this guy seems swamped. Then some private pilot jumps in and has this long, complicated request for something silly and you (and everyone else) rolls their eyes.
One evening it was nearing the end of rush hour in Minneapolis. Rush hour, or "push" as it's sometimes called, is when all the flights fly into a hub, switch passengers, and fly out again. Regional flights typically arrive just before the push so passengers can easily make connections to our mainline code-sharing partner (Northwest). We leave last too, after everyone has arrived on the mainline flights. At the hub, regionals are first in, last out. And while I'm at it, let me just say for the record, we HATE being called commuter airlines. We are a regional airline. We serve this region. Got it? But I digress.
So it's near the end of the evening push. Night has fallen, so this is probably late fall or winter. The traffic is still fairly busy. I'm at the end of the runway, 11L. Gene is at the end of 11R. Our flight numbers are very similar. I'm probably flight 4021 and Gene is something like 4031. You know, similar. The tower controller is working two frequencies, one for the north runway (123.95) and one for the south runway (126.7). I'm on 123.95, Gene is on 126.7. The controller clears me into position on 11L, which we acknowledge. At the same time, Gene's copilot mistakenly acknowledges and Gene taxis onto 11R. Neither Gene nor the controller caught the mistake. The controller clears me to take off, which we do. Gene sits on 11R, awaiting his clearance. And he waits, and waits. Meanwhile a big Northwest DC-10 is getting closer and closer to landing on 11R. Then the guy sitting next in line behind Gene notices the DC-10 about to land on 11R with Gene sitting there and says on the tower frequency, "You know, there's a plane in position on 11 right." The controller immediately tells the Northwest DC-10 to go around and starts asking who the hell is on the runway. Gene of course replies "Flagship 4031 is position and hold on 11R." The DC-10 screams overhead, missing Gene by a few feet. The controller is livid. He gets Gene off the runway and quickly things get back to normal. The FAA investigated. Often when a pilot screws up, the FAA is happy to let the pilot's employer dish out the disciplinary action. Saves them the trouble, the pilot gets punished, everyone (except the pilot) is happy. Airlines do not like their pilot group having a list of violations. But not this time. Gene got a 90 day suspension of his license, the copilot got fired because he was still on probation, and the rest of us learned an important lesson.
I've had new copilots, even today, respond to a call meant for someone else. Usually I just say something like "Not for us, pay attention!" If it's while we are at the end of the busy runways at Charlotte International, it'll get him banned from the radio for the rest of the night and a serious dressing down by yours truly. It's when my sailor language really kicks in. A friend of mine got killed during takeoff because of someone talking on the frequency when it wasn't for them. As a Captain, I learned long ago that you can't be politically correct or everyone's friend all the time. Sometimes you have to be a son of a bitch, you need to be a son of a bitch because someday he might make that mistake again and it'll cost him his life. Now I understand why Marine Corp drill instructors yell a lot. It all makes sense now.
