disasters near the greater cincinnati airport 1948 to 1967
TRANSCRIPT
Disasters near the Greater Cincinnati Airport
1948 to 1967
By Rollie Puterbaugh
All Rights Reserved
2012
Disasters near the Greater Cincinnati
Airport 1948 to 1967
~Introduction~
We could feel the gentle current on the Ohio River trying to
push the Anderson Ferry downstream as we crossed the river from
the state of Ohio to the shoreline of the Commonwealth of
Kentucky. My mother and I were en route to her childhood home in
Dayton, Kentucky on a sunny morning in late March 2005. As I
watched the hills of Kentucky draw closer, I was reminded of an
event that had occurred in November of 1965 when an American
Airlines Boeing 727, on approach to the Greater Cincinnati
Airport, careened into a nearby hillside. The question for me;
what hillside? I decided that I would find and visit the crash
site, finally fulfilling a lifetime endeavor to pay my respects
to those who were lost so many years before. As the ferry docked
in Constance, I had no way of knowing the magnitude of the
project I was about to undertake in the years that would follow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Greater Cincinnati Airport is situated on a vast plateau
near the Ohio River Valley and close to the northern most point
of the Commonwealth of Kentucky. It received its first scheduled
commercial airliner on the morning of January 10, 1947 when an
American Airlines DC-3, arriving from Cleveland, rolled up to
the gate of the new red brick terminal building to unload the
first arriving passengers.
The new commercial airport began operations with three runways:
18-36, 4-22, and 9-27. These runways accommodated the new four
engine luxury airliners that would connect Cincinnati, not only
to the vast expanses of America, but also to the world.
Previously, the airfield had been a training base for B-17
bomber pilots. It also served as a playground for the local boys
of Boone County. Both Harvey Pelley and Ray Mattox, among
others, received their introduction to the exciting world of
aviation when they were invited onboard the bombers for free
rides.
Unfortunately between the years of 1947 and 1967, the hills of
Hebron would not be kind to fliers. Four aircraft, in three
separate events, would be lost in departure accidents. The first
one occurred on May 8, 1948 and the second on January 12, 1955.
The third occurred on November 6, 1967 when TWA Flight 159 broke
up after attempting to abort its take off. Additionally, in the
1960s, three aircraft would fail to reach the safety of Runway
18 while on approach to the airport. By 1968, 146 people had
been lost and 18 injured within three miles of the Airport’s
perimeter.
During this 20 year period, Boone County Kentucky was very
rural. While Boone was the home of the Greater Cincinnati
Airport and Latonia Raceway, the county was mostly scattered
with many farms and small communities. In most cases, these
farms consisted of many acres. A close-knit cluster of
communities, residents either were related to each other or knew
one another. These were the days before the county was radically
altered by airport expansion and the construction of an
interstate highway around Cincinnati which now cuts through the
region.
In addition, technology was very primitive to today's standards.
Most family households had telephones with party lines in which
two or more homes shared the same telephone connection and could
monitor each other’s calls. The Boone County telephone system
was not compatible with the Kenton County telephone system
making calls to the "next" county difficult. Covington (Kenton
County) was the primary Kentucky city in the area and the
location of the major hospitals in Northern Kentucky.
Interestingly, in those days, Kenton County police had little
regard for the Boone County line and crossed it often. Fire
departments used volunteers and their vehicles had no
communication capabilities. Need to make a call on an emergency
run, simply stop at a farm or house and ask to use their
telephone. Ambulance crews performed little or no triage and
served primarily as transportation services to the local
hospitals. Helicopter evacuations were decades away in America.
Counseling for victims of air disasters was nonexistent. Despite
the disadvantage of technology and with disaster already looming
in early May 1948, the folks of Boone, Kenton, and surrounding
counties were about to respond to the cries for help, improvise,
offer comfort, and heal the injured.
In the pages that follow, the stories of these accidents will
unfold. In several instances, I have taken the liberty of using
the technique introduced by Robert Serling in his 1960 book “The
Probable Cause” to “theoretically reconstruct” events that today
we can not substantiate as fact but are accepted as normal
flight routine. I have used this font to designate these items.
Rollie Puterbaugh
2011
Chapter 1
Departure Disasters
The Beech AT-11“Kansan”
Beech AT-11
Copyright Rollie Puterbaugh 2012
It was late afternoon on Saturday May 8, 1948 when Ray Mattox,
an employee of Boone County Aviation, inserted a fuel nozzle
into Sinclair Refining Company’s Beech AT-11 sitting on the ramp
at the Greater Cincinnati Airport. It was already 5 pm and his
mind suddenly remembered the date he had planned for that
evening. He quickly cast the thought aside and squeezed the
nozzle to begin the fueling of the 250 gallons of 87 octane
aviation fuel needed to top off the AT-11 for the next 636 mile
leg of its trip from White Plains, New York to Tulsa, Oklahoma
{Source: Ray Mattox}.
“Hey buddy”, a voice came from behind Ray. “Can you tell me
where I can buy some flowers around here”? It was the aircraft’s
co-pilot, Daniel Crowley. The next day was Mother’s Day and he
knew he would arrive home too late to buy flowers for her.
“No”, replied Ray, but you might catch a taxi driver in front of
the terminal who can help you out.” With that, Ray returned his
efforts toward preparing the plane for departure.
Ray quickly resumed the refueling of the AT-11. He was intrigued
by the converted World War II bombing trainer in which 90% of
the USAAF bombardiers had been trained during the course of the
war. A variant of the Beech 18, the aircraft was powered by two
Pratt and Whitney R-985 engines producing 465 HP each which
supported a cruising speed of 150 mph. A transparent nose made
this model aircraft unique in its category. From this position,
student bombardiers practiced dropping 100 lb. sand filled bombs
on their targets. After the war, these trainers were purchased
for use by private companies.
Ray topped off the tanks and headed for home, ready for an
evening of fun with his date. He would be astonished by the news
that awaited him when he returned to the airport the following
morning.
Later that evening, the Beech AT-11 was cleared for departure on
Runway 18 with instructions to make a right turn after becoming
airborne. Pilot Rush lifted the plane into the sky but quickly
lost sight of the horizon. The aircraft dropped into a wooded
area just south of the runway, exploded and burned. There were
no survivors.
A crew from the Burlington Volunteer Fire Department responded
to the emergency call. When they got to the scene, they were
confronted with debris scattered across an area near Gun Powder
Creek. The crew was burned beyond recognition.
Upon arriving at work the following morning, Ray was told about
the previous night’s crash just south of Runway 18. Ray and John
Hendrick, his boss, a CAA {Civil Aeronautics Authority}
Designate, jumped into Ray’s Chevy and drove out to Limaburg
Creek Road to examine the debris field. John wanted to do a
survey to report information back to the CAA in Cincinnati. They
returned to the airfield after a quick 10 minute visit.
Area along Limaburg Creek Road where the AT-11 crashed after leaving Runway 18
Photo by Rollie Puterbaugh Spring 2011
About 3 pm on the same day, three well dressed executives from
Sinclair Refining Company arrived at the airport. Once again,
Ray started his Chevy and drove the new arrivals out to the
crash site for them to assess the debris field. The authorities
took their time and walked the entire debris field. Ray recalled
decades later how he realized on this second trip just how
devastating this accident had been the night before. The trees
in the surrounding area were heavily damaged by the impact and
subsequent fire. The aircraft was a total loss with very few
recognizable parts, including the tail. Finally, Ray and the
executives returned to the car and drove back down Limaburg
Creek Road. Ray would remember the experience in vivid detail
well into the 21st Century.
Courtesy: “The MartinLiners” by Gary L. Killion
TWA Flight 694
Martin 202A
N93221
TWA Flight 694 sat on the north end of Runway 22 awaiting take
off clearance from the Greater Cincinnati Airport Control Tower
{also, at that time, referred to as the Kenton Tower}. Captain
James Quinn, a 13 year veteran of TWA, took note of the local
weather as he waited for his departure instructions to begin the
353 mile journey to Cleveland, Ohio via an intermediate stop at
the James M. Cox-Dayton Municipal Airport located north of
Dayton, Ohio.
A slight 12 mph southwest wind blew across the runway as light
freezing drizzle glanced off the airframe of the 202A {N93211}.
Captain Quinn was aware of a light ground fog which was clearly
visible from the flight deck. He was also aware that the 3000 to
4000 foot cloud layer over the air field would be encountered by
Flight 694 at approximately an altitude of 800 feet. He glanced over
at his First Officer Robert Childress who was reviewing a preflight checklist. The flight
deck was ready for departure.
In the cabin, 21 year old hostess Patricia Stermer, had completed her safety check of
the cabin and was secured in her jump seat. She had been hired by TWA on
October 18, 1954 and had just finished her training before
Christmas 1954.
Jack {John} Zint
World War II Navy Veteran
Sitting nearby, Jack {John} Zint peered out of the window of the airliner. His trip
had been scheduled for the day before but his flight had been
canceled. A design engineer with Karl Kiefer Machine Company,
Jack was on a one day business trip to Flint, Michigan. He
planned to be back with his wife, Ruth, and his two children,
Susan {5} and Jerry {8}, by day’s end. As he waited, his
children were attending Sam Woodfill School in Ft. Thomas,
Kentucky. Susan was in kindergarten and Jerry was in Third
grade. Unbeknownst to them, their day was not going to be
routine and would change their lives forever.
At 9:02 am Flight 694 was cleared to depart Runway 22, turn
right, and climb to 4000 feet. The Captain advanced the
throttles, the two Pratt and Whitney R-2800-CB16 engines, now at
full power, allowed the aircraft to begin its take off roll down
the runway. As the airliner approached the intersection of the
airport’s three runways, the wings of the Martin 202 accepted
the aircraft’s 35,572 lbs and lifted it gently into the morning
sky. From his window, Jack Zint could see the wings bouncing
lightly in flight and a light snow cover over Boone County.
Meanwhile, Captain Arthur {Slim} Werkhaven was maneuvering a DC-
3 through the skies to the west of Cincinnati. He was heading
southbound to Lexington, Kentucky via the Cincinnati VOR. He was
en route from Kellogg Regional Airport in Battle Creek, Michigan
with his co- pilot, 37 year old Edward Agner, to pick up Mr. and
Mrs. Frederick Van Lenepp at the Blue Grass Airport in Lexington
and transport them to their winter home in Delray, Florida. They
were the owners of Castleton Farm, a horse racing and breeding
business near Lexington. Now, two very reliable and successful
aircraft were on a collision course for a fateful rendezvous
over the winter skies of Northern Kentucky.
The Martin 202A {N93211} that was carrying Jack to Cleveland was
named, “Skyliner Lancaster” by TWA in reference to the south
central Pennsylvania town of Lancaster. It was a non-pressurized
airliner with a seating configuration of 36 passengers. It was
delivered on lease to TWA on September 28, 1950 and entered
service on September 30, 1950. On February 19, 1951, the landing
gear on N93211 collapsed while on the ground in Dayton, Ohio.
While there were no injuries, the airliner did require repairs
by the Martin Company and was not returned to service until
April 24, 1951. On April 10, 1952, TWA purchased the airliner
outright.
The legendary series of DC-3s were designed and manufactured in
the mid 1930s. The first DC-3 made its maiden flight from Clover
Field in Santa Monica, California on December 17, 1935, the 32nd
anniversary of the Wright Brothers first successful controlled
flight at Kitty Hawk. Initially powered by two 1,200-horsepower
Wright Cyclone radial engines, the aircraft would regularly
cruise at 10,000 feet at a speed of 150 MPH. It would be the
first commercially feasible airliner to be built and put into
airline service.
The DC-3 {N999B} Captain Quinn commanded was owned by the Van
Lenepp’s company, Castleton Inc., a division of the National
Carbon Coated Paper Company of Sturgis, Michigan. It was
manufactured by the Douglas Aircraft Company in early 1942 and
delivered to the Army Air Corps on April 9, 1942. Following the
war, National Carbon Coated Paper Company purchased the aircraft
for business usage. In 1950, the company sold it to its
subsidiary, Castleton Inc. The plane was based at Battle Creek,
Michigan.
The DC-3 crossed the Ohio River and followed a course consistent
with today’s Kentucky Route 237 at an altitude of 1500 feet.
Captain Werkhaven continued under the flight rules that were in
use when he departed Battle Creek at 7:30 am; VFR {visual flight
rules} with no flight plan filed. In addition, no attempt was
made approaching the Greater Cincinnati airspace to notify the
tower of his position.
In the tower, chief air traffic controller, Woodrow McKay,
watched as Flight 694 executed a straight line departure
coincident with retracting the landing gear. Crossing the 500
foot level, the crew raised the flaps and reduced engine power
10% to the normal climb setting as required by TWA flight
operations. Controllers then witnessed the aircraft banking to a
heading of approximately 340 degrees while disappearing into the
stratocumulus clouds. At 9:04 am Eastern Standard Time
controllers received the final transmission from 694:
“Kenton Tower, TWA six nine four…”
At this point, the 2 aircraft were within seconds of a horrific
collision over Hebron. Kentucky. What follows is the official
collision details as described by the Civil Aeronautics Board
Investigation in their Report released on July 8, 1955:
.....”the aircraft approached each other at an angle of
about 30 degrees from head on, with the longitudinal
axis of the two aircraft crossing to the left of the
Martin and to the right of the DC-3.The aircraft were
banked relative to one another so that the left wing of
the Martin was higher than the right wing of the DC-3,
while the right outer wing of the Martin and the left
outer wing of the DC-3 were in position to collide. In
addition, the collision damage indicates that the
Martin was climbing relative to the DC-3.
The first major components to come in contact were the
left wing of the DC-3 and the right propeller of the
Martin. The right wing of the Martin and the left wing
of the other aircraft then struck, resulting in
disintegration of the DC-3 wing in the contact area,
and causing such structural damage to the Martin right
wing that it separated from the aircraft before ground
impact {approximately 24 ½’of the right outboard wing fell away
from the airliner-Source: Ray Mattox}. While the wings were
tearing through one another, the left propeller of the
Martin started its cuts across the top of the DC-3
fuselage and through the vertical fin and rudder while
the Martin moved across and to the rear of the other
aircraft. Near the end of the contact period, the
inboard side of the Martin left nacelle inflicted
severe crushing damage on the DC-3 vertical tail. This
caused portions of the DC-3 fin and rudder to separate
in flight.” With the DC-3 now virtually destroyed, it went
into a steep dive and plunged onto the farm of Ernest Pieper, an
area now near the corner of Kentucky Route 237 and Conrad Lane.
Now on the ground, the vertical stabilizer of the DC-3 sat at an
angle in stark contrast to the unidentifiable debris surrounding
it.
Being under IFR {instrument flight rules}, Captain Quinn’s eyes
were riveted on his attitude indicator after the impact as he
struggled to stabilize and save his severely damaged airliner.
With some success he was able to drop below the cloud layer on a
heading of 360 degrees. Off to their left, the flight crew saw a
flat field and initiated a difficult left turn in an attempt to
make an emergency landing. At this point, TWA Flight 694 went
into a steep dive plummeting into a deep wooded ravine just
short of the Woodford Crigler’s farm field. Debris was scattered
across a 685 foot path through the hollow. Due to the cloud
layer, it is unlikely that the crew was ever aware that they had
collided with another aircraft.
Midway between the debris fields of the DC-3 and The Martin 202,
intermingled pieces of both aircraft were found on John Boh’s
farm. A propeller from the Martin would not be found until 1956.
From his position at a Texaco service station on the Constance
Road {Route 20, now Petersburg Road} in Hebron, Harold “Hook”
Vines saw Flight 694 struggling to stay in the air. He suddenly
heard a thud and an explosion as did Fire Chief Earl Aylor who
lived directly across the street from the station where Harold
was working. The farming community of Hebron was now in the
midst of a disaster created by the collision of TWA Flight 694
and the Castleton DC-3. For “Hook” Vines, who would later become
a Hebron Volunteer Fireman, this would be his first experience
with an aviation disaster. This would be one of eight major
aviation events that would plaque him and the area surrounding
the Greater Cincinnati Airport over the next three decades. But
for now, the community was faced with two debris fields.
A column of smoke was observed by the Control Tower to the west
of the airport {later identified as the Martin 202 impact area}.
Immediately, a call was placed to the U.S. Weather Bureau at the
airport requesting a weather observation and to John Hendrick at
Boone County Aviation, the CAA {Civil Aeronautics Authority}
Designate for Northern Kentucky.
“John!”, exclaimed the voice over the phone, we need you to get one of your planes in
the air now! We are observing smoke to the west of the airport and believe it is an
aircraft!”
Within minutes, John Hendrick and John Lemming Sr. had a Cessna
170 on the runway with clearance for an immediate departure.
With a freezing drizzle still falling across the airport, Mr.
Lemming piloted the single engine Cessna 170 to an altitude of
500 feet without encountering any turbulence. He took notice
that the visibility seemed lower to the west and northwest of
the airport than on the east side of the field. Light ice clung
to the window as they searched the ground below them. According
to his deposition, “…we were able to spot smoke from a
burning aircraft shortly after becoming airborne. We
circled the area several times and reported to the
control tower that we thought the wreckage was that of
a Douglas DC-3”. With a tower acknowledgment, they returned to
the airport and landed.
Mr. Leming shut down the Continental O-300-A engine only to find
out that a second aircraft was down to the west of the airport.
Both he and Mr. Hendrick decided to switch to another aircraft
with windshield defrosters, a Piper Tri-Tracer. Within minutes,
they were once again at 500 feet. The precipitation and icing
conditions had abated and they were able to spot the debris
field of the Martin 202. They made an attempt to determine the
airliner registration but the damage on the ground was severe
and the wreckage was down in a ravine. They were unable to spot
any survivors.
Woodford Crigler would be the first to arrive at the scene of
the Martin 202.”I ran out of the house and the first thing I saw
was a big ball of fire in the wooded area in the gully. I ran
toward it and got there in less than five minutes. It was an
awful sight. I had a chance to look around the wreckage before
anyone else arrived. There was no sign of life in any part of
the wreckage that I could see. Gasoline was burning in the
hollow....” {Source: Kentucky Post}.
Back on Route 20, Hook ran down the road to the fire station, a
two bay, 30’ x 40’ concrete block building. Although he was not
yet a volunteer, he nevertheless jumped on board the crew’s
single pumper as it departed the station. The fire truck headed
west on Route 20 and then turned left onto Limaburg Road.
Quickly they arrived at the Criegler Farm and pulled into the
drive way. The crash site was too far into Mr. Criegler’s
property for water hoses to reach the scene so Hook and the fire
fighters grabbed hand held CO2 extinguishers and dashed towards
the Martin 202 now laying in pieces in the ravine. They, also,
would find no survivors.
The firemen quickly realized that they were in the midst of a
gruesome disaster. TWA Flight 694 lay shredded on two hillsides
within a hollow near the property line between Mr. Boh’s farm
and Mr. Criegler’s farm. Debris lay shattered in the creek at
the bottom of the ravine. Two trees were on fire while a man’s
hat swayed in the breeze in another nearby tree. Small fires
continued to burn in the debris field. Additional hats, rings,
wallets, and other personal effects could be seen scattered
about the twisted and mangled wreckage. A deck of playing cards
had been tossed about the muddy hillside. A lone engine set
separated from the main wreckage.
Jack Zint’s Wallet and Rings TWA Insignia from Captain Quinn’s Hat
Courtesy of the Zint Family Courtesy of Ray Mattox
Within minutes, additional support arrived from the communities
of Covington, Bromley, Burlington, Erlanger, Ludlow, among
others. State and county police also responded to the calls for
assistance and were immediately challenged by the hundreds of
spectators arriving at the site.
Harvey Pelley, a future Hebron Volunteer Fireman, heard the
emergency vehicles along Route 20 from his classroom at Hebron
Elementary School and learned about the collision from his
teacher. At lunch, he and his close friend and future brother in
law, Dave Maxwell, slipped out of school and headed towards the
Criegler farm but were turned back by police. As a result, they
turned around and headed to the site where the DC-3 came to
rest, about a mile away. Here, the security was non-existent and
they quickly gained access to the demolished corporate aircraft.
They snatched up a small fragment from the pile of wreckage and
returned to school. This day, Harvey had been curious, but in
the years to come, he would become a veteran Boone County’s
aviation disasters.
In Ft. Thomas, Kentucky, Ruth Zint arrived at the Sam Woodfill
School and parked near the door where her daughter Susan would
race through as soon as her morning kindergarten class was
dismissed for the day. Right on schedule at 11:30, Susan could
be seen running to her mother’s car. “We are going to visit
Cousin Virginia to see the new baby,” explained Ruth, as Susan
jumped into the car.
Arriving at their destination, Susan went to the living room to
watch the Uncle Al Show on WCPO Channel 9, a children’s show.
Uncle Al, his accordion, and TV farm was a popular show and had
risen quickly in television ratings since it debuted in the
summer of 1950. By 1955, the show had expanded from a 15 minute
program to an hour long show airing three episodes daily. Kids
could tune in at 9 am, 11 am, or 1 pm.
By the time Susan began watching, the 11 am show was in its
final half hour. Suddenly, names began to scroll on the TV
screen. Susan ran out of the room to find her mother. “Mommy, I
heard and saw Daddy’s name on TV!”
“What for?” she exclaimed, as she ran to the television. As they
entered the living room, the bulletin was repeated and stated
that there were no survivors at the scene of the crash site of
TWA Flight 694.
Ruth and Susan immediately jumped back into their car and rushed
back to the Sam Woodfill School to pick up Jerry. Upon hearing
the news, the principal pulled Jerry from the lunch line and
informed him that his mother was at the school. "Jerry, he
explained, “your Mom's here. There's been an accident, she
needs you at home. You must be brave as you are now he man of
the house.” In the months that followed, Jerry {8} would take
these words to heart and suggest to his mother that perhaps he
could get a job in a couple of years.
The Zint family would not receive official word of their loss
until 9 pm that night when a TWA representative arrived at their
home on Sherman Avenue in Ft. Thomas with the news. This
sequence of events would haunt the family for decades, but,
would eventually lead to authorities notifying family members
prior to the public release of names of those involved in
accidents.
By afternoon, the Reverend John Schutzman, chaplain of the
Covington Fire Department, had administered last rites at the
TWA crash site. Mr. Criegler and Mr. Boh had supplied tractors
and carts to haul victims, now wrapped in blankets, out to the
Limaburg Road where ambulances could transfer them to an
Erlanger funeral home.
“The Board determines that the probable cause of this accident
was operation of the DC-3 in the control zone as unknown
traffic, without clearance, very close to the base of, or in,
the overcast.” Civil Aeronautics Board ~ July 8, 1955.
American Airlines Flight 383
Boeing 727-100
N1996
AA Flight 383 N1996 Tuesday November 9, 1965
Photo Courtesy of Toni Ketchell
Wisps of clouds slipped across the wings of the American
Airlines Boeing 727-100 as it descended under a massive cloud
layer, revealing the vast metropolis of New York City. Although
the hour of darkness was still 45 minutes away, the gloominess
of the day already displayed the sparkling lights of the city
below. Flight 340 was on approach to LaGuardia Airport in the
Borough of Queens in the late afternoon of Monday, November 8,
1965.
Twenty five year old stewardess, Toni Ketchell of Monroe,
Louisiana, completed her in-flight duties and took her position
in the forward jump seat of the 727 in preparation for landing.
She had spent the past two days serving first class passengers
across the mid and south central United States. On Sunday,
November 7, 1965, she had flown a “turn around” trip out of
LaGuardia Airport from her home base in New York City to
Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. Upon returning to New York City later
that day, she changed planes and completed her working day on an
evening flight to Love Field in Dallas, Texas.
Now, the tires of Flight 340 gently touched the runway creating
puffs of smoke as they made contact with the ground. The thrust
reversers on the three engines, in conjunction with the wing
spoilers, were activated allowing the airliner to decelerate and
turn onto the taxiway. Toni delivered her standard
announcement,”welcome to New York City and LaGuardia Airport.
The local time is 4:10 pm and, on behalf of our crew, we want
thank you for flying American Airlines”. The 727 proceeded to
its assigned gate at LaGuardia’s Central Terminal Building,
completing its scheduled route from Dallas to New York via
Little Rock and Memphis. Toni had one more duty flight before
day’s end.
In LaGuardia’s American Airlines Operations Office, Captain
David Teelin studied the weather information display board, then
picked up a phone and called the American Airlines Briefing
Forecaster at the New York Flight Dispatch Office at Kennedy
International Airport to request additional weather information
for flights heading to Cincinnati. The forecast indicated
thunderstorm activity along the flight path with anticipated
weather in Cincinnati being,“…3,500 feet overcast, visibility 4
miles, light rain, fog, variable to 1,000 feet overcast,
visibility 2 miles, thunderstorm, moderate rain showers.”
{Source: Civil Aeronautics Board}. Captain Teelin filed his
flight plan for American Airlines Flight 383, a nonstop trip
from New York City to the Greater Cincinnati Airport in Northern
Kentucky.
As filed, the flight would be conducted under Instrument Flight
Rules {IFR} with a standard instrument departure from LaGuardia
to the Philipsburg, New Jersey VORTAC. Crossing this point and
climbing to 35,000 feet, the flight would pick up Jet Airway 49
to Allegheny {Pittsburgh} and then intercept Jet Airway 80 to
Dayton {Ohio}. From Dayton, the flight would proceed south along
Jet Way 43 with a straight in approach to Runway 18 at the
Greater Cincinnati Airport. Estimated en route flying time was
listed as one hour and 23 minutes with Louisville’s Standiford
Airport chosen as the alternate airport.
Captain Teelin was a veteran American Airlines pilot, having
been employed by the company on January 6, 1946 and upgraded to
Captain on May 1, 1956. He was rated to fly an array of
airliners which included the DC-6, DC-7, Convairs 240/340/440,
Lockheed Electra, and the BAC-111. He was a company designated
check airman for the Boeing 727 and would serve as such on
Flight 383 for Captain William O’Neil who was in the process of
undergoing a 25 hour check program as captain in command of the
Boeing 727 {as the check airman, Captain Teelin would be in
command of the upcoming flight but would act as co-pilot}.
Toni hurried across the airport to the American Airlines
Operations Office for a briefing with the flight crew of
American Airlines Flight 383, her next assignment. Here she met
Captain Teelin, Captain O’ Neil, and Flight Engineer John
LaVoie. Again on this flight, she was scheduled to work the
first class section of the cabin. Mary Campbell, age 22, and
Joyce Chimel, also age 22, would serve passengers in the coach
section. The stewardesses were quickly briefed on weather and
passenger loads for the flight and then left operations. The
flight was due to leave the gate, bound for Cincinnati, at 5 pm.
The mid 1960s found a nation on the move. Jet transportation had
increased the speed and efficiency of domestic travel and
businessman had found a way to conduct transactions nationwide.
It would be several years before large volumes of middle class
travelers would begin to embrace air travel as a mode of
transportation to weekend and vacation destinations. As a
consequence, the passengers on board Flight 383 were typical of
air travelers of that era, educated, talented, and very special
individuals.
By 4:55 pm, passengers bound for Cincinnati had been gathering
at the gate for nearly 45 minutes. Boarding passes were finally
being processed by ramp agents, while passengers mingled about
the area. Just beyond the gate sat N1996, a Boeing 727-123. It
had just rolled up and a jet-bridge was connected to the forward
cabin door. The flight crew went quickly onboard knowing that
the flight was not going to depart on time. This aircraft,
N1996, had just been released as a backup plane for another
flight, causing the delay.
N1995, sister ship to N1996, departs gate at LaGuardia December 1965
Copyright: John Heggblum 1965
William McDivett, a Vice President of Sales for Beech Nut-
Lifesavers, Inc., waited patiently to board. His plans were to
return from Cincinnati on Wednesday in order to celebrate his
53rd birthday with his wife of 21 years, Demetrie, and his
children William, Susan, John, and Julia. As he left his home in
suburban Philadelphia earlier that day, he told the family to
have his birthday cake ready for him upon his return.
Nearby, three executives from Decca Records quietly talked among
themselves as they waited to board. Charles Lauda, Bruce Hart,
and Israel Horowitz were scheduled to record the Cincinnati
Symphony Orchestra on Tuesday at Cincinnati Music Hall. They had
moved up their travel plans in order to get an early start the
next day.
Once the flight crew was ready, ramp service agents began
loading the passengers and at 5:20 pm the Boeing 727 {N1996},
operating as American Airlines Flight 383, backed away from the
gate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With the long range Boeing 707 jet just months away from its
debut with Pan American World Airways, Boeing executives decided
in May 1958 to begin designing a short to intermediate range jet
airliner for use at airports where runways were relatively
short. LaGuardia, with its short runways, was a perfect
exemplification of an airport for the airliner they were
envisioning.
Engineer Jack Steiner and his team went to work and for the next
four years they would be in a struggle designing and justifying
the cost of what would become one of Boeing’s most costly but
best selling commercial jets. The prototype was rolled out on
November 27, 1962 with the first test flight flown out of Renton
Field on February 9, 1963 at 11:33 pm PST.
Image shows Fowler Triple Slotted Flaps
Extended on the Boeing 727
The 727 was a unique and beautiful aircraft with its swept
wings, a T-shaped tail, and three rear mounted Pratt & Whitney
JT8D 14,000 pound-thrust jet engines. More importantly, it also
incorporated exclusive trailing edge triple slotted flaps and
wing leading edge slats which helped to control the boundary
layer across the wings, thus maintaining lift at slower speeds.
These capabilities of the 727 provided quick climb outs, fast
descents, and safe landings on runways as short as 5,000 feet.
For passenger convenience, the aircraft cabin was quiet, had a
wide body “look”, and a ventral staircase located in the rear of
the airliner for quick unloading at small or remote airfields.
American Airlines took its first delivery of the 727 in 1964 to
use on its domestic routes. It would prove to be as advertised,
perfect equipment for flights into and out of LaGuardia Airport
and small fields around the country.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Captain O’Neil taxied to the runway where he was instructed to
hold for traffic before being cleared for departure. At 5:38 pm
EST, the wheels of N1996 left the ground. Within minutes, the
plane was above the cloud layer, climbing towards 35,000 feet,
and headed for the Philipsburg VORTAC.
With the aircraft still climbing, the stewardesses began their
flight routines which on this flight would include the serving
of 58 meals. Toni moved about the cabin, glad that she was on
the last flight of the day. She was looking forward to her
return flight as a “non rev” to New York on N1996 later that
evening. Tired from being on her feet all day, she remembered
her training “stay alert ladies!” Toni carried on with a smile.
Captain Carl Weekley, onboard the flight as a “non rev”
passenger, was a pilot for American Airlines who had been
"bumped" from command of flight 383 at LaGuardia Airport in
order to assume command of another flight later in the evening.
Earlier in the day, he had flown co-pilot from Chicago to
LaGuardia Airport. Carl Weekley was a calm and professional
pilot. He sat quietly on 383 in the right front seat of the
first class cabin, shuffling through paperwork.
Washington County, Pennsylvania native, Clarence Link, age 40,
relaxed in his seat. A graduate of Carnegie Institute of
Technology, he was traveling on behalf of his employer, AT&T
Long Lines. His wife of 17 years, Catherine, and his children,
Catherine {15}, Edward {13}, and Lynn {10} remained at home in
Valhalla, New York. Clarence also was a talented artist in oil
painting and building custom handmade frames for his artwork.
Crossing the Philipsburg VORTAC, Captains Teelin and O’Neil
requested, and were granted, a clearance to deviate from the
original flight plan. Their new route would put them on a more
direct path to Cincinnati via Jet Airway 78 to Charleston, West
Virginia. Over Charleston, the flight would pick up Jet Airway
24 to Cincinnati. Flight 383 set a course towards West Virginia.
Bruce Hart
Decca Records Engineer
Sitting three abreast with his Decca Records colleagues, Israel
Horowitz and Clarence Lauder, Bruce Hart, sound engineer, was an
avid reader. To relax, he pulled his book from his briefcase,
reclined his seat, and read. At age 35, Bruce and his wife had
already appeared on live radio playing a piano concerto for two
pianos with the Boston Pops under Arthur Fielder’s baton. With
four children at home, Tony, Christopher, Jennifer, and Dorian,
Mr. Hart had a bright future.
Charles Lauda, also a sound engineer, had worked for Decca since
1943. He and his wife, Louise, had three children, Francis, Joy,
and Lois.
The Director of Classical Artist and Repertoire, Israel Horowitz
had been with Billboard Magazine prior to accepting his current
position with Decca Records in 1956. He and his wife, Millie,
had two children, Michael and Robert.
Meals were being served as the 727 sped towards Charleston. On
the flight deck, the pilots again requested a mid course
correction for a more direct route to Cincinnati. About 100
miles out of Charleston, Air Traffic Control cleared the pilots
to pick up the York, West Virginia VOR, which was 63 miles
northwest of the Charleston VORTAC, “thence direct to
Cincinnati” {Source: Civil Aeronautics Board}.
Rudolph Neubauer
Rudolph Neubauer placed his beverage on the tray. The airliner
was encountering very little turbulence thus providing him with
a pleasant flight from New York. Mr. Neubauer was a graduate of
Pratt Institute and was employed with the Sutton Publishing
Company. He and his wife, Marion, lived in Thornwood, New York.
They had three children, Wray, Carl, and John.
One Hour and seven minutes into the flight, the crew contacted
the American Airlines company radio at the Cincinnati Airport
and reported their estimated time of arrival as 7:05 pm.
Toni Ketchell walked up the first class aisle checking seatbelts
and ensuring seats and trays were in an upright position for
landing. She stopped for a moment to talk briefly with a
passenger and then proceeded to take her assigned position in
the forward jump seat. The seat was located on the bulkhead to
the left of the door leading to the flight deck. If not for the
door, she was within an arms-length of the Flight Engineer.
Flight Path of AA 383
Courtesy of the Civil Aeronautics Board {NTSB}
The flight was now 27 miles out, approaching the Cincinnati area
from the southeast on a heading of 305 degrees, and leveling off
at 1,100 feet {referenced altitude refers to feet above the
published airport altitude}. Shortly thereafter a right turn was
initiated placing the aircraft on a northerly route to the east
of the airport. The 727 was now picked up by Cincinnati Approach
Control and cleared to continue its descent. [Flaps two degrees-
Speed 240 MPH]
FLIGHT 383: "out of five for four and how about a control VFR,
we have the airport."
{Heavy weather, over Indiana and Ohio, was moving towards the
airport from the northwest. From the left side of the airliner,
crew and passengers would have been able to see the airport off
to their left, about 4.5 miles away (CAB Report)}.
APPROACH CONTROLLER: "continue to the airport and cleared for a
visual approach to runway one eight, precip lying just to the
west boundary of the airport and it's... southbound".
{6:58:41: 383 was six miles southeast of the airport and was
handed over to the Cincinnati Tower radio}.
AA 383: "Cincinnati tower its American Airlines 383, we're six
southeast and ah control VFR".
{6:59:10: the aircraft was just to the west of Crestview Hills
Kentucky maintaining an altitude of 1,100 feet. [Spoilers
extended-Engines at idle speed]}.
CINCINNATI TOWER: "American three eight three Cincinnati tower
runway one eight, wind two three zero degrees five, altimeter
three even".
6:59:21 PM AA 383: "Roger runway one eight"
6:59:23 PM CINCINNATI TOWER: "In sight cleared to land runway
one eight American three eighty three"
6:59:28 PM AA 383: "We're cleared to land, roger"
6:59:29 PM AA 383: "How far west is that precip line now?"
6:59:30 PM CINCINNATI TOWER: "Looks like it's just about over
the field at this time sir, we're not getting any on the field,
however"
6:59:35 PM: AA 383: "Okay"
{American Airlines 383 continues to maintain an altitude of
1,100 feet}
6:59:40 PM: CINCINNATI TOWER: "If we have a wind shift I'll keep
you advised as you turn onto final".
6:59:44 PM: AA 383: "Thank you very much we'd appreciate it".
{American Airlines flight 383 flies over an oil storage
facility, crosses the Ohio River, turning onto the base
leg[Flaps set at five degrees – 195 MPH] of its approach to
runway 18 and is now located over the State of Ohio, westbound
and resuming a descent at 800 feet per minute. Israel Horowitz
glances over and sees Bruce Hart continuing to read his book.
[Flaps set at 15 degrees-184 MPH].
7:00:11 PM: CINCINNATI TOWER: "American three eighty three we
are beginning to pick up a little rain now".
7:00:11 PM: AA 383: "Okay"
{7:00:53 PM: American 383 begins a left turn over the State of
Ohio where the tower visually sees the plane for the last time.
[Flaps set at 25 degrees-166 MPH]}.
{7:01:09 PM: American Airlines 383 has one last chance to pull
up and out of the valley.}
{7:07: Altitude is recorded at 210 feet at which time the
descent rate of the 727 is increased from 800 feet per minute to
2,100 feet per minute for 10 seconds}
7:01:11 PM CINCINNATI TOWER: "three eighty three you still got
the runway?"
7:01:14 PM AA 383: "Ah just barely we'll pick up the ILS here."
{American Airlines 383 crosses the Ohio River descending below
the published altitude of the airport as it tries to lineup for
final approach to runway 18 over the State of Kentucky, heading
235 degrees. About this time, Captain Weekley, the non-rev
passenger, notices small beads of water on the window}.
{7:01:17: Descent rate reduced to 625 feet per minute}
7:01:19 PM: CINCINNATI TOWER: "American three eighty three
approach lights, flashers and runway lights are all high
intensity."
7:01:22 PM AA 383: "Okay".
{Impact occurred five seconds later at a speed of 169 MPH}
Ralph and Margie Sprague had just arrived home from the local
grocery store when a thunderstorm moving out of the northwest
inundated their home at 1301 River Road {Route 8}. They decided to remain in their car while the storm passed. As they sat
there, they observed Flight 383 approaching at a low altitude
with its landing lights illuminating the trees along the
hillside. Ralph cried out, “look at that plane, it’s going to
crash!” With that the airliner plowed into the hillside and
exploded.
The following data was transcribed from the Civil Aeronautics
Board Report:
Examination of the aircraft wreckage at the crash site indicated
the first impact was made by the right wing with a tree at an
altitude of 665 feet m.s.l. which is approximately 225 feet
below the published field elevation. Evidence based on tree
damage in the swath path substantiates that the aircraft was in
level attitude on a heading of 235 degrees at the point of
initial impact. The aircraft attitude at nose impact was
determined to be five degrees noseup; the measured terrain
upslope angle at this point was 9.6 degrees. The aircraft slid a
distance of 340 feet relatively intact through scrub trees and
ground foliage before impacting and coming to rest amidst a
group of larger trees.
From the Ohio side of the river valley, students from Mount
Saint Joseph saw 383 fly over the campus and watched in horror
as the plane burst into flames on the Kentucky hillside. Many of
the girls, away from home for the first time, were planning to
fly home for the Thanksgiving weekend intensifying the scene
before them.
As the aircraft slid up the hillside, the flight deck folded
under the bulkhead where Toni was sitting and was tucked under
the cabin section of the airliner killing the two pilots and
flight engineer. Toni was torn loose from the bulkhead and
thrown violently from the fuselage. She was tossed forward and
to the right of the airliner where she lay among the trees along
the hillside, her body severely mangled.
Momentarily stunned, Captain Weekley realized he had been tossed
onto the floor and was under a pile of debris. He saw fire
coming towards him from the back of the cabin and quickly
extracted himself from the debris {Source: Civil Aeronautics
Board}. He stepped out of the fuselage where a hole had been
created by the destroyed flight deck. He stumbled upon the
critically injured stewardess and managed to get her clear of
the immediate area before the plane exploded. A heavy rain
pounded down, drenching the site.
Richard Felton, Israel Horowitz, Norman Spector {an employee of
Procter and Gamble}, were also tossed from the airliner into the
hillside brush.
The Boeing 727 now was burning three quarters of the way up a
Kentucky hillside along the Ohio River valley, two miles north
and a quarter mile east of Runway 18. The number one and number
three engines had separated from the fuselage and were setting
downhill from the airliner. The number two engine remained on
the aircraft. All three engines were heavily damaged due to
“ingestion of tree wood, mud, and twigs during the impact
sequence” {Source: Civil Aeronautics Board}. The right wing was
swept back and now positioned almost in line with the cabin.
There was also heavy damage to the left wing. Jet fuel saturated
the woodland along the swath path and surrounding area.
Ralph Sprague headed on foot down Route 8 towards the Dolwick
Farm where the airliner had crashed. There he met his brother in
law, Gilbert Dolwick, whose father owned the farm. Accompanied
by Rodney McGlasson, a local fruit farmer, and Milton Holt, the
four headed up the hill. The hill was such that it became
increasingly steeper as they progressed towards the crash site.
They found two injured passengers about 150 feet from the debris
field, Israel Horowitz and Norman Spector. They tried to get
them to lie down but both insisted on getting off of the hill.
The 2 passengers were assisted down the hillside.
The eerie wailing of the siren emanating along Route 20 from the
Hebron Volunteer Fire Department carried its signal through the
rainy evening that had descended over the little town of Hebron,
Kentucky. The department had just received a frantic call that
an aircraft had crashed on a hillside along Kentucky State Route
8.
The fire house was located on top of the hill and to the west of
the accident site at the corner of Petersburg Road {Route 20}
and Hart Drive in Hebron, Kentucky. In recent years, it had been
expanded to accommodate the department’s new 1962 pumper, adding
an additional 20’x 30’ area to the back of the fire house.
The department had one ambulance and two pumpers, the new 1962
pumper and an older pumper modified from a 1942 Dodge truck cab
and chassis, a creation of Fire Chief Aylor, the local Dodge-
Plymouth dealer. The ’62 pumper carried 750 gallons of water
while the ’42 pumper was equipped with a 300 gallon per minute
front mount pump, a 275 gallon water tank, a hose reel filled
with 250’ of 1” hose, and a quantity of 2½” and 1½” hose that
1942 Dodge Pumper
was procured through the government’s Civil Defense program
{Source: Hebron Fire Protection District}.
The equipment was already heading east on State Route 20 when
Harvey Pelley got the news at his home at 7:10 PM. He dashed to
the fire department and found that the squad was already en
route. Harvey raced down the highway to catch up with them.
The trucks raced out of Hebron towards the “mile hill", a
narrow, steep, and winding road that hugged the bluff down to
Route 8 {River Road}. Heading west on Route 8, they were soon at
the site but were immediately confronted with a difficult
challenge; they weren't equipped with long enough hoses to reach
the airliner from Route 8!
Meanwhile, Harvey got to the top of the "mile hill" where he was
stopped by Kenton County Police. They had quickly crossed the
Boone County line and had set up a roadblock to stop vehicles
from entering the river valley, thus enabling rescue units to
use Route 8 from the crash site to Covington, Kentucky. Harvey
explained that he was a fireman with the Hebron squad and had to
get down to route 8, but the Kenton County Police would have
nothing to do with his story and turned him away.
Bill Smith, a rural post carrier, at home near the fire
department, heard the alarm and told his wife, Pat, "I'm going
down to the station to see what's going on." Like Harvey, Bill
had missed the departing fire truck but did find his brother,
"Budd", at the station. Together, they headed in the opposite
direction from the firemen, heading westbound on route 20 and
then using Route 237 to access Route 8 from Tanners Road.
Frustrated but determined, Harvey spun his car around and headed
back, westbound on 20. He was more than aware of the Tanners
Road approach to Route 8 and he wasted no time in outflanking
the police blockade. He would spend the next 20 hours at the
crash site, not leaving until 3 pm the following day.
By this time, Bill Smith and his brother had arrived at the
farmhouse where the airplane had crashed. Looking up the hill,
the brothers were not yet aware of the full magnitude of what
appeared from the road to be a fairly small fire. They dashed up
the hill. About half way up, they began to hear cries from
higher up the hill "Help!" "Help!" They quickly replied, "we're
coming...we're coming". The smell of jet fuel hung heavy in the
air.
Following the cries for help, they found Captain Weekley near a
tree watching over Toni Ketchell, the injured stewardess. They
were located several hundred feet in front and to the right of
the airplane. The young girl's legs and feet were grotesquely
twisted to the extent that the brothers thought her "legs were
being held on only by her hosiery". "We're flight 383" exclaimed
Captain Weekley. Bill, having worked as a postal transfer clerk
at the Greater Cincinnati Airport, immediately recognized 383 as
a commercial flight out of New York. "There's got to be more
people!" he said. "There's no people", replied the Captain,
"there's no people." Bill glanced back at the airliner. The
impact and fire had already destroyed the upper section of the
cabin down to the top of the windows. By now, a rescue team had
arrived to help get the injured off of the rugged hillside. They
placed Toni on a stretcher, which had been rapidly constructed
with logs and branches from the hillside, and "borrowed" Bill's
coat to tie the critically injured stewardess to the stretcher.
They started moving down the hill with Captain Weekley insisting
on walking. Bill and several other men cleared the tree branches
ahead of the stretcher to ensure the stewardess suffered no
further injury.
At the bottom of the hill, Toni was loaded into an ambulance
driven by Paul Dickman of the Hebron Fire Department. He
immediately pointed the ambulance eastward along Route 8, a
rural macadam roadway snaking its way along the Ohio River
towards Covington, Kentucky. It was relatively quiet inside as
the ambulance raced past the Anderson Ferry towards the Boone
County-Kenton County line. Crossing the county line, patrons at
the nightclubs and bars lining the road to Ludlow, Kentucky
could not help but notice the commotion playing out along the
highway as emergency vehicles passed to and from the crash site.
Once in Covington, Dick made a right turn onto Scott Blvd. using
it as the most direct route to the hospital. At Sterrett Street
he turned left and quickly arrived at St. Elizabeth Hospital,
passing through the iron gates into the emergency room
courtyard. The first ambulance had already arrived moments
before carrying Richard Felton, who succumbed to his injuries
moments later. Toni was quickly unloaded and went immediately
into surgery.
Harvey Pelley went straight up the hill when he arrived at the
farm house to evaluate the crash scene with the rest of the
firemen. Unable to get fire hoses up the hill, someone suggested
that they find a back way into the crash area from the top of
the hill. Charlie Eggleston was given the task of getting the
old pumper into position on top of the hill. The pumper had been
chosen for the mission because of its weight. The truck carried
275 gallons of water and was much lighter then the '62 truck
which carried 750 gallons of water. Eggleston rounded up his
crew, including Harvey, and headed towards the truck. Upon
arrival, they realized that the headlights, emergency lights,
and siren had been left on by Harold "Hook" Vines who had driven
the vehicle from the firehouse. The battery was drained and
would not allow the truck to start. The crew immediately pushed
the fire truck until it started, hopped on, and headed back down
Route 8 to the "mile hill'.
Charlie "Red" Eggleston was an interesting character. In the
early 1950s, while employed by the Bushman Conveyor Company, he
lost his left arm up to his elbow in an industrial accident. He
refused to acknowledge his disability and expected to be treated
like everyone else and wasn't afraid to remind his peers of this
if they tried to assist him. Harvey Pelley would in later years
say, "Charles Eggleston was probably one of the best
drivers/engineers that I ever had the privilege to work with at
a fire or accident scene, there were none better than "Red".
Eggleston headed west on route 20 and turned right onto Walton
Road, a gavel lane leading to the Walton house. At the Walton
house the road made a 90 degree turn where it became a dirt
road. Two airport fire department 4-wheel drive jeeps and the
pumper proceeded down the lane until they passed Cull Bell's
house where the road entered a "hollow" and passed through a
small creek bed. Just beyond this point, Charlie turned left
onto a sod farm field road and headed towards the bluff where
the airliner continued to burn. Deciding to take a "shortcut"
the vehicles cut through a harvested corn and pumpkin field
where the ground was very soft. The old pumper got mired in the
field and had to be pulled back onto the sod by the jeeps.
"Red", still behind the wheel of the fire truck, soon arrived at
the hill. A reporter would later comment that he couldn't
imagine the one armed fireman successfully handling the truck
through the rugged field. Two hundred feet of 2-1/2" water hose
was pulled down the hill and soon the front mounted pump on the
truck began sending water down hill to the inferno.
By now, activity along highway 8 and on the hillside was
intense. Emergency vehicles from surrounding communities lined
the road. Ministers and priests walked about the wreckage
administering prayers and last rites. A 17 year old, Larry
Campbell, kept an emergency generator running, lighting the dark
and smoky hillside. The search for additional survivors had
already become a mission of futility. Within hours, 58 souls
would be confirmed among those lost on the hillside.
At the corner of 9th and Elm Streets in downtown Cincinnati, Bill
Myers began his normal Monday night broadcast of American
Airlines Music ‘til Dawn program on WLW 700 Radio. This night
would prove to be his most difficult assignment of his radio and
television career. With an American Airlines Boeing 727 burning
on a nearby hillside, he quickly reviewed the company’s policy
concerning American Airlines commercials for the evening’s show.
He was particularly interested in sections 2 and 3A: {2} “In the
event of an American Airlines crash, whether the aircraft is on
a scheduled, training, or test flight, all commercials are to be
dropped until further notice, {3A}: If the crash is in the
immediate area and an important news item, delete commercials
around news.” Bill stayed in touch with Jack Gwyn who was out
at the accident site along Route 8, broadcasting updates about
every 16 minutes. Commercials for the airline would not resume
on WLW for a week.
At 7:14 am on Tuesday November 9, 1965, the sun rose above a
cloud layer over northern Kentucky. For those who had maintained
a vigil at the crash site overnight, the scene at first light
was one of complete devastation. The Boeing 727 was
unrecognizable except for the vertical stabilizer resting
upright and at a slight angle on the hillside, a sight that
would be forever etched in time. Pieces of broken dinnerware and
personal effects were tossed and scattered among thousands of
small pieces of twisted wreckage, pieces that would remain in
place for decades.