PAL’s Second Hijacking and the People Who Held the Flight Together

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From the Sidelines

By: Ray G. Talimio Jr.

“Inside the Cabin Where Leadership and Composure Prevented Tragedy”

Philippine Airlines (PAL) entered the jet age carrying not just passengers, but the pride and expectations of a rising nation. As Asia’s first commercial airline, PAL stood for decades as a regional benchmark and, at the time, the envy of several Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) neighbors still building their own flag carriers. Its aircraft symbolized professionalism, reliability, and national confidence. That stature also made PAL vulnerable in an era when civil aviation around the world was increasingly used as a stage for coercion and political theater.

That vulnerability was exposed during what would later be remembered as PAL’s second hijacking. The flight was operating the Davao to Manila sector when three armed men boarded in Davao. After takeoff, they seized control of the aircraft and demanded diversion to Hong Kong. Aviation security in the early 1970s was still rudimentary, and the aircraft cabin, once assumed to be insulated from national tensions, suddenly became an extension of them.

A decisive moment came upon arrival in Manila. The passengers were allowed to disembark, but the flight crew remained on board. Benigno P. Toda Jr., then President of PAL, chose to stay with the aircraft as a hostage. From that point, the plane departed without passengers and continued on its forced route to Hong Kong. The cabin grew quieter, but the danger did not diminish. Risk narrowed to a small group of people who now had to keep their judgment intact inside a confined space, where composure itself had become a safety measure.

Public incident summaries from the period do not consistently list the cockpit crew. Personal retellings preserve the presence of Capt. Pete Dangoy, remembered as the pilot who flew the aircraft through the diversion to Hong Kong. In a hijacking, flying does not become secondary. Control of the aircraft, precision in execution, and steadiness in the cockpit remain indispensable from departure to landing.

Inside the cabin, command and order were equally essential. Among the flight attendants was Maria Teresa M. Picardal. At the time of the incident, she was the most junior flight attendant on board. Despite her rank, she carried out her duties with the composure expected of senior crew. Authority within the cabin rested with the flight purser, the senior cabin officer required on every flight to maintain discipline, coordination, and safety, just as the pilot does in the cockpit.

Ms. Picardal traced her roots to Iligan City and was closely linked to the Neri-Marfori family of Cagayan de Oro City. Her role during the hijacking was quiet but critical. She helped regulate movement, manage interactions, and prevent fear from spreading in a space where panic could have created a second emergency.

That steadiness reflected the arc of her entire career. Ms. Picardal began her service as a domestic flight attendant, was later promoted to international flight attendant, and eventually served as flight purser, the senior cabin officer required on every flight to maintain order, coordination, and safety. She completed 20 years of perfect attendance, received a 25-year loyalty award, and rendered a total of 37 years of dedicated service with PAL before retiring in 2009. In an industry defined by irregular schedules, fatigue, and constant pressure, her record stood as a testament to consistency, professionalism, and quiet commitment.

The aircraft eventually reached Hong Kong, where the hijackers surrendered and the standoff ended without loss of life. The outcome was shaped by restraint inside the aircraft and decisiveness beyond it. Ferdinand Marcos Sr., then President of the Philippines, was known during that period for direct involvement in aviation security crises, favoring swift containment over prolonged confrontation. Accounts from the time recount that the hijackers were later pardoned and provided livelihood opportunities, with PAL offering employment to help them begin anew. One was reportedly taken in as a ground mechanic, reflecting an approach that combined authority with rehabilitation.

An unexpected layer of connection later emerged during the Jubilee Pilgrimage in Italy in October 2025, where Ms. Tess Picardal, my wife Melanie, and I met Veronica Dangoy-Guzman and her husband Carlo as fellow pilgrims. What began as simple introductions among participants took a remarkable turn when Ms. Picardal mentioned her years with Philippine Airlines. Veronica responded that her father had flown for PAL. Only then did it become clear that Ms. Picardal and Veronica’s father, Capt. Pete Dangoy, were connected by the same flight decades earlier, one serving in the cabin and the other in the cockpit, bound by a shared moment in aviation history.

Additional family recollections later shared by Veronica Dangoy-Guzman add further depth to the episode. According to her account, Capt. Dangoy volunteered to take over the flight from Manila together with Mr. Toda because the original cockpit crew from the Davao sector was not yet certified for international operations. The hijackers insisted on flying to mainland China, then referred to as Red China. When the aircraft reached Hong Kong for refueling, entry into China was denied, forcing a prolonged standoff. During that period, the crew engaged the hijackers through calm conversation, card games, and persistent appeals to reason, assuring them that no one had been harmed and that surrender would lead to leniency. It was through patience, restraint, and human engagement, rather than force, that the crew eventually persuaded the hijackers to give up.

What endures from PAL’s second hijacking is not the demand or the diversion, but the conduct of those entrusted with lives. Mr. Toda’s decision to remain on board embodied corporate accountability. Capt. Dangoy’s steady command ensured control under coercion. The cabin crew’s discipline, embodied by Maria Teresa M. Picardal, prevented fear from becoming a second crisis.

History often records hijackings through perpetrators and destinations. This episode deserves to be remembered for something else. In the cabin of Asia’s pioneer airline, composure was practiced, sustained, and decisive. That discipline ensured the flight ended not in tragedy, but in restraint, preserving PAL’s legacy as an airline defined by professionalism rather than fear.

Sources:Philippine Airlines historical background materials.
Aviation incident summaries on the 1973 PAL BAC One-Eleven hijacking.
Contemporary wire reports on the Hong Kong diversion and subsequent pardons.
Personal and family accounts shared by Veronica Dangoy-Guzman and Kerwin S. P. Caragos.

Photo Credits:
User provided images.

Disclaimer: This article is a historical narrative written for public interest. It draws from publicly available records and personal recollections. Where official documentation is limited, details are presented as part of lived narratives rather than formal institutional findings.

About the Author: Ray G. Talimio Jr. is a Certified Public Accountant and veteran columnist on governance, economic policy, and public accountability. He is a Past President and Past Chairman of the Board of the Cagayan de Oro Chamber of Commerce and Industry Foundation Inc. He served as Co-Chairman of the Economic Development Committee of the Regional Development Council Region X and as Chairman of the MSME Development Council of Misamis Oriental and Cagayan de Oro City from 2022 to 2025. He is a National Officer of the Philippine Institute of Certified Public Accountants after having served as its Past Senior Regional Director and Past Chapter President. He served as BIMP-EAGA Chairperson from 2023 to 2025 and is a staunch advocate of MSME development, regional economic integration, good governance, and public private partnerships.

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