Picture yourself in a tiny plane, 2,400 feet up in the air. Suddenly, the pilot—the person you trust with your life—collapses. No fuel, one engine sputtering, and the ground fast approaching. What do you do? For 80-year-old Helen Collins, that nightmare became a reality. Her response? Keep calm, take the controls, and pull off the most important stunt of her life.

Helen was in a twin-engine Cessna with her husband John, flying home to Wisconsin from Florida. John, 81, was the pilot—a veteran with thousands of hours under his belt. Helen had flown with him for decades, but she’d never been in the cockpit alone. That changed when John collapsed mid-flight. Less than 10 minutes before they were supposed to land, he suffered a heart attack, according to their son James Collins, who spoke with the Associated Press.

Helen quickly realized she was on her own. Her husband unbuckled his seatbelt and slumped over, turning gray. “She felt his hand and she knew,” Richard Collins, another son, told ABC News. But Helen wasn’t about to panic. She took control of the plane, and while her husband lay unconscious beside her, she calmly radioed for help. “You better get me in there pretty soon,” she told dispatchers, according to the Christian Science Monitor. “I don’t know how long I’m going to have gas.”

In a moment that would shake most of us to the core, Helen didn’t flinch. She circled the Cherryland Airport in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, while help arrived. One engine had sputtered out, and the other was on its last drops of fuel. Her son, James, a pilot himself, coached her over the radio, trying to help her stay calm. Meanwhile, another local pilot, Robert Vuksanovic, jumped into a plane of his own and took to the skies to help guide Helen down. “With him alongside of her, he could control her speed and altitude,” airport director Keith Kasbohm told the AP.

Helen’s nerves of steel held the Cessna steady. But at one point, even she doubted herself. “Don’t you have any faith in me?” she asked Vuksanovic, according to the Christian Science Monitor. “I can do this.” She didn’t just say it—she believed it.

Vuksanovic guided her through several practice runs before they finally lined up for landing. By this time, Helen’s right engine had completely failed, and she was running on fumes. “Turn left. Turn left. Left turn, Helen, turn left,” Vuksanovic called over the radio. “Nose down, nose down. Come on, get down. Get down.” Then, rapid-fire instructions: “Bring the power back. Power back. Reduce the power… Nose down, over. Helen, do you read me?” There was a tense silence. Then Helen’s voice cut through, cool as ever: “I read you.”

The plane bounced hard off the runway, skidded nearly 1,000 feet, and came to a halt. Helen had done it. “Great job, Helen, great job,” someone cheered over the radio. For everyone on the ground, it was a miracle. For Helen, it was just the only option.

As the dust settled, her sons reflected on how close they had come to losing both parents in one day. “I already knew I lost my dad; I didn’t want to lose my mom,” James told the BBC. Helen was taken to the hospital with a cracked vertebra and rib injuries, but she was expected to make a full recovery. John, sadly, was pronounced dead.

While Helen’s story caught media attention for its drama, the most incredible takeaway is her calm under pressure. With one engine dead and her husband tragically gone, she faced the ultimate test and passed with flying colors. As James said to the AP, “Everybody is so proud of her.” And we should be too. Helen Collins may not have had a license, but she certainly had the right stuff.