Capt. Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger III, the retired airline pilot who saved 155 lives by landing a crippled jetliner on the Hudson River in 2009, has revealed that he was diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer's disease in August 2025. He is 75 years old.
Sullenberger shared the news in a public statement and in an interview with People magazine, framing the disclosure as an act of service to the millions of American families already living with the disease in silence. His wife, Lorrie, and his former first officer, Capt. Jeff Skiles, both confirmed the diagnosis publicly.
The announcement adds one of the most recognized names in American aviation to the roster of public figures confronting Alzheimer's in the open, a choice that carries weight precisely because Sullenberger built his reputation on calm, competence, and split-second clarity under pressure. For the man once celebrated for his photographic memory, the early symptoms he described, forgetting names, repeating stories, disrupted sleep, mark a quiet, unwelcome reversal.
In his statement, as reported by Fox News Digital, Sullenberger struck a tone that echoed the same measured resolve he showed on the flight deck sixteen years ago:
"It is early stage. For now, this means a name may not come easily to me, I forget a story I have recently told, or I don't sleep as well, but I am in the beginning of this long journey."
He said the diagnosis would not stop him from looking forward to the future. And he drew a direct line from the courage passengers and rescuers showed on that freezing January afternoon in New York to the courage he now wants to inspire in Alzheimer's patients and their families.
"Over the years, when people would ask about the successful outcome of Flight 1549, I would say that 'courage can be contagious,' and on that day it helped everyone band together to get everyone off that airplane successfully. Now we need that courage to battle this disease. I am now part of a larger community with many of you, and we will be courageous together."
Sullenberger credited his physician, Dr. Gil Rabinovici of UCSF Medical Center, with opening his eyes to the scale of the epidemic. In his statement, he relayed the doctor's message that the disease "spares no age group and impacts millions of people around the world," calling it "the unwanted visitor at the door."
The numbers bear that out. Alzheimer's disease accounts for 60 to 80 percent of all dementia cases, and more than 7 million Americans over the age of 65 are currently living with clinical Alzheimer's, according to the Alzheimer's Association. It remains one of the most feared diagnoses in medicine, progressive, incurable, and devastating to families who watch their loved ones slip away.
Sullenberger is hardly the first prominent figure to go public. Earlier this year, longtime WABC anchor Bill Ritter stepped away from the news desk after his own Alzheimer's diagnosis, a decision that drew wide attention to the disease's reach across professions.
Fox News senior medical analyst Dr. Marc Siegel noted that Sullenberger's age at diagnosis, 75, is "relatively late-onset." But Siegel raised a factor that may be less widely understood: Sullenberger had previously been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder following the Miracle on the Hudson. PTSD, Siegel told Fox News Digital, doubles the risk of developing Alzheimer's "because of changing brain chemistry and structure and sleep disruption."
That link between trauma and cognitive decline deserves more public attention than it gets. Millions of veterans, first responders, and survivors of violent crime carry PTSD. If the medical community's understanding of PTSD as an Alzheimer's risk factor is correct, the downstream implications for those populations, and for the systems that serve them, are significant.
For Americans of a certain age, Sullenberger's name is inseparable from a single date: January 15, 2009. That afternoon, US Airways Flight 1549 struck a flock of geese shortly after takeoff from LaGuardia Airport. Both engines lost thrust. Sullenberger, with Skiles beside him, made the decision to ditch the Airbus A320 in the Hudson River rather than attempt a return to the airport or a landing at nearby Teterboro.
All 155 people on board survived. The event was dubbed the Miracle on the Hudson and made Sullenberger an overnight national hero, a rare, uncomplicated good-news story in a country that was then reeling from the 2008 financial crisis.
Sullenberger's background explained the outcome. A graduate of the U.S. Air Force Academy, he served as a fighter pilot, flight leader, and training officer before leaving active duty in 1980 to fly commercially, first with Pacific Southwest Airlines and then with US Airways. His 2009 autobiography, "Highest Duty: My Search for What Really Matters," co-written with Jeffrey Zaslow, became a bestseller. Clint Eastwood directed the 2016 film adaptation, "Sully," starring Tom Hanks.
In December 2009, Sullenberger testified before the House Judiciary Committee's Commercial and Administrative Law Subcommittee on behalf of the U.S. Airline Pilots Association. In 2021, President Biden nominated him to serve as U.S. Ambassador to the International Civil Aviation Organization, a post he held until 2022. He is a soon-to-be inductee of the National Aviation Hall of Fame.
That résumé, military service, commercial aviation mastery, public advocacy, diplomacy, makes the diagnosis all the more striking. Sullenberger, who announced the news on his personal website, said he had noticed trouble recalling details within the last year, despite a memory that had previously been described as photographic.
Lorrie Sullenberger, his wife of 37 years, told People magazine that the diagnosis has not changed who her husband is at his core.
"Just as he was the same steady person before and after Flight 1549, he is the same steady person now, before and after this diagnosis. That strength and steadiness is guiding us as a family."
She added: "Though the future is uncertain, we continue to live our lives, have hope and find joy in the everyday."
Skiles, the first officer who sat in the right seat that day on the Hudson, told People that Sullenberger remains "larger than life, even to me." He expressed hope that the disease would progress slowly and that his friend would "be able to create the kind of life going forward that he would be proud of."
For anyone who has watched a parent, a spouse, or a friend navigate an Alzheimer's diagnosis, those words carry a weight that needs no embellishment. The disease is relentless. The families who bear it deserve every bit of public attention and research funding the country can muster.
Dr. Daniel Amen, a psychiatrist and brain imaging specialist who founded Amen Clinics in California, has previously spoken with Fox News Digital about the long arc of the disease. His observation is sobering.
"Alzheimer's starts in your brain decades before you have any symptoms. So, a 59-year-old woman I diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease likely had negative changes in her brain in her 20s."
Amen has identified 11 major protective factors against Alzheimer's and stressed that "it's really never too early to think about protecting your brain and your mind." The specifics of those factors were not detailed in his comments, but the broader point, that prevention must begin long before symptoms appear, aligns with a growing medical consensus.
For millions of Americans navigating an already fragile healthcare landscape, one in which major insurers have pulled out of exchanges, leaving patients with fewer options, the question of access to early screening and treatment is not abstract. It is urgent.
The Washington Examiner reported that Sullenberger chose to go public specifically to bring comfort and encouragement to other families dealing with the disease. His decision to step forward rather than retreat into privacy is consistent with the character he has shown throughout his public life.
Sullenberger framed the disclosure not as a concession but as a new form of service, the same instinct that led him to testify before Congress, to write about duty, and to accept a diplomatic appointment.
"This new phase of my life has challenged what it means to be of service. And the answer is to speak up. It is my hope that by sharing this, other families living in the shadows with this disease will feel they, too, can step forward."
He closed his statement with a reference to the hope that Flight 1549's outcome gave to people across the country. His wife, he said, believes "we can all use a little of that hope right now."
The New York Post noted that Sullenberger is framing his public battle with Alzheimer's as a continuation of the same ethos that defined his career, serving others, even when the personal cost is high.
There are no easy landings with Alzheimer's. But if anyone has earned the right to ask a country for courage, it is the man who kept his hands steady on the controls when 155 lives hung in the balance over the Hudson River.
