Prom season brings out the ambition in people. The corsages get bigger, the limos get longer, the photoshoots get more elaborate. But Quintina Brown, executive director of the Markham Park District in Illinois, decided that for her daughter Quamyra’s prom this past May, a limo simply wasn’t going to cut it. What was called for — what the moment demanded — was a helicopter.
And not just any helicopter landing. A helicopter landing in a public park. Next to homes. Next to an active basketball court where children were playing.
When Markham police arrived on the scene, the pilot presented his authorization for the landing: a letter signed by Brown herself, authorizing the photo shoot for her daughter. In other words, the parks director had written herself a permission slip to use the park she runs. For her own kid. On a residential block.
Fans of the NBC sitcom Parks and Recreation will recognize this governance philosophy immediately. In one memorable episode, Ron Swanson — the libertarian director of Pawnee’s Parks Department — produces a permit that is simply a handwritten note reading “I can do what I want.” The joke, of course, is that no one with actual authority would ever accept such a thing. In Markham, apparently, they handed it to a police officer with a straight face.
Markham police body camera video shows the helicopter landing in a field across from a basketball court where children were playing at the time. Police said they saw the helicopter flying “alarmingly” low in the area before it set down near homes and park property. The children ran from the basketball court when the helicopter started coming down. Nothing says “memorable prom experience” quite like sending a group of kids fleeing in terror.
What Can Actually Go Wrong When a Helicopter Lands in a Park
It is worth pausing here to be clear about the genuine danger involved, because “helicopter lands in park for prom photos” sounds like a light local news story until you think about what helicopters actually do when they land in uncontrolled, unprepared spaces.
Rotor wash from a descending helicopter is capable of sending debris — gravel, dirt, sticks, anything not nailed down — flying outward at serious velocity. Near homes, that means windows. Near people, that means eyes, faces, and anything else in the path. A basketball court full of children is, to put it plainly, not a suitable landing zone. Neither is a residential neighborhood that hasn’t been cleared, secured, or warned. The FAA has requirements around helicopter landings for exactly these reasons, and local zoning ordinances exist precisely to prevent someone from deciding that their authority over a park extends to conducting low-altitude aviation operations in it.
Markham’s city attorney put the liability question bluntly: “Both the park district and the city would have been sued if something, God forbid, had happened.” The fact that it didn’t isn’t a defense. It’s luck.
Brown and the pilot were cited for disorderly conduct and unauthorized landing on public property. The city of Markham has also filed a lawsuit against the park district. When asked whether approving a helicopter landing for her own child constituted a conflict of interest, Brown said she did not view it that way. The Ron Swanson parallels continue to write themselves.
A Note for Photographers: This Is Your Problem Too
There is a photographer somewhere in this story. We don’t know their name — they haven’t been charged with anything, and frankly they probably showed up in good faith, told the location was permitted, and prepared to shoot what sounds like a genuinely spectacular prom setup. None of the legal trouble lands on them.
But here’s the thing: it could have. And as photographers, especially those of us who do portrait, event, or commercial work in public spaces, this story is worth treating as a cautionary tale.
When a client brings you an unusual location or prop — a rooftop, a rented vehicle, a drone, a horse, or yes, a helicopter — the question of permitting is not solely their problem. The moment you show up with a camera, you are a participant. You are on the scene. Your name and your business are associated with what happens. And if something goes wrong — if a child is struck by debris, if a rotor catches something, if the landing goes sideways — proximity to the incident matters.
Here’s what responsible due diligence looks like before a shoot involving something like this:
Ask the client directly, in writing: Do you have permits for this location and for any vehicles, equipment, or aircraft involved? Put that question in an email so there’s a record.
If the answer is “yes, I took care of it,” ask to see the paperwork. Not because you distrust your client, but because a letter someone wrote to themselves is not a permit, and you need to know the difference before a police officer shows up on your shoot. Just tell them you need a copy for your records in case anyone asks you.
Know your local requirements. Helicopter landings in public spaces require FAA notification at minimum, and most municipalities have additional zoning and public safety ordinances on top of that. A quick call to the relevant city or parks department takes fifteen minutes and can save you from standing on a basketball court explaining yourself to police.
Consider what your contract says about situations like this. Many photographers, myself included, include a clause that allows us to exit a shoot if the client engages in illegal or dangerous behavior. That clause exists for exactly this kind of scenario. It isn’t there to be punitive; it’s there because your safety, and the safety of anyone at your shoot, is your professional and moral responsibility. If a client’s plan puts people at risk or operates outside the law, you need an exit ramp that doesn’t cost you the whole engagement fee.
The photographer in Markham likely didn’t know. But “I didn’t know” is a much more comfortable place to be if you asked, and documented that you asked, and required answers before you showed up.
Helicopter Prom Photos are a Thing Apparently
Researching this article, I found that having helicopter prom photos are absolutely a thing right now, and, aesthetically speaking, kind of an amazing idea.
The light on the rotors, the drama of the landing, a teenager in prom attire with a chopper behind them — that’s a legitimately compelling image. Quamyra Brown got her photos. Her mother says she doesn’t understand all the fuss. “She was graduating, and this was going to be a memorable experience. I just wanted to be able to provide that for her.”
That sentiment is completely understandable. It is also exactly the reasoning that leads people to skip steps they shouldn’t skip. Great photography doesn’t require putting children at risk, circumventing public safety ordinances, or writing yourself permission slips. There are helicopter operators who specialize in aerial photography and work within proper channels. There are locations — airports, private fields, designated landing zones — where this kind of shoot can happen safely and legally. And every other set of helicopter prom photos I have seen online are taken in those types of locations!
The photos exist. The citations, the lawsuit, and the questions about the taxpayer credit card also exist. Somewhere in a local courthouse, Ron Swanson’s permit is being submitted as evidence.
