by First, the underlying hum. The note is a droning low G — I know because, strumming, I matched it on my guitar. Second, layered atop that continuous, solid vibrating G note, is a percussive staccato beat. Now, I’m not sure: is it as a thwack-thwack-thwack or more of a tttt-tttt-tttt? That I’m mulling this fine point makes me spittin’ mad. You see, I’ve had lots of opportunities to analyze exactly what a stationary helicopter sounds like. In fact, I’ve had nonstop opportunities. Here. At home.
City Sounds, Pre-Helicopter
Before putting down money on a new home 12 years ago, I spent time listening. The house wasn’t far from downtown and mere blocks from Austin’s busiest highway and so I wondered: If we moved, could I live with city noise?
Surprisingly, the answer was yes. Car traffic ebbed and flowed, creating a rushing water effect. In the morning hours, owls called and mourning doves cooed just like in northwest Austin’s hills. Walk outside at night in the summer and sleepy cicadas drowned out everything else. On game days, stadium sounds waft when the wind’s just right; New Year and Fourth of July fireworks pleasantly pop and pop and pop. Our street was quiet and peaceful.
Occasionally, helicopters would pass overhead on their way to nearby hospitals. My husband said seeing STAR Flight made him sad; someone had been hurt or was in danger. I always felt happy — help had arrived. Plus, I admit to a fascination with helicopters. You’re talking to the runner who always delighted at spying a big military bird approaching Camp Mabry’s mile-long track. You knew the newbs because those runners failed to take cover and shield their eyes from all the dust when that big machine plopped down in the track’s grassy center clearing. When we lived out near 2222 and 620, back before the area became developed, when that area was still “the boonies,” helicopters landed and took off in the street, transporting seriously ill people to the hospital.
I used to associate all kinds of good things with the unmistakeable sound of a helicopter. Used to.
Day In, Day Out Noise
Sometime in November, things changed. The sound, if not the sighting, of helicopters in the neighborhood dramatically increased. Since then, I get up in the morning and go to bed at night to the nonstop tune of stationary helicopters.
Ironically, that noise is much worse when all the windows are closed. Somehow, the repetitive mechanical thrum pierces walls and windows; the sound is particularly bad in our master bathroom. Step outside, and I35’s white-noise rushing soothes and calms. Yes, the helicopter sounds are louder but they’re muffled and smoothed by traffic.
At the beginning of December, I messaged City of Austin on Twitter about this new noise pollution. What’s the deal? Had something happened, something changed, concerning Austin’s helicopter traffic? They responded:
Hi, Leah. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. While we aren’t certain, the increase in noise is potentially due to STAR Flight’s recent switch to larger helicopters–which produce a noticeable increase in ground noise due to their design.
@austintexasgov
But why are landed helicopters allowed to run constantly? For example: the first came in today sometime after 4 a.m. and remained running until I left the house at 6:15 a.m. for my morning workout. When I returned two hours later, helicopter sounds were going strong. And they’ve been nonstop while I work from home. They’re not taking off and landing and passing overhead. They’re sitting.
I’ve got no problem with helicopters on missions. Please, save lives! But I have a big problem with constant neighborhood noise pollution from a sitting helicopter.
Is running those rotors necessary?
Can I get at least some quiet back?
I’ll let you know if I find out anything more. In the meantime, if you’re in town hearing what I’m hearing, let City of Austin know. It might just help.
