There was no "Guild" associated with the P-51 Mustang that crashed this evening in Reno, Nevada, but that didn't stop the panic phone calls. I heard from my mom in Oregon, who was in tears as she spat out the news of the crash. My dad and brother were in attendance. Were they killed? Were they alright?...
Several hours earlier I had listened to a voicemail from my brother, "rubbing in" the fact that I was not in attendance. The two of us share a legacy of attending the Reno Air Races with our father, a pilot and former US Air Force officer. We grew up with these guys... they were family. I could hear the roar of planes in the background and endured the annoyed tone of my younger sibling as he described his current scenario; instead of watching the excitement in the skies he was witnessing yet another moment where our dad was spinning another yarn amongst the pilots. I returned the call only to get my brother's voicemail, but I shared with him my nostalgia and desire to be there.
They had box seats on the Tarmac, right in front of the grandstands. Jimmy's plane, The Galloping Ghost, had obtained an airspeed of 530 mph. After rounding pylon 8, he abruptly pitched up, rolled inverted, pitched down...and crashed onto the Tarmac, into the box seats. 11 people were dead.
I did what I could to calm my mom and dialed my dad...
He answered. :shock:
"Are you alright?", I nearly screamed. "We're in Carson City, he said calmly. We got bored with the races and went for a drive. They aren't what they used to be, so we decided to take off for a while and come back later."
I was almost speechless (which doesn't happen often). They would most assuredly have been among the injured, perhaps even among those who died.
My heart goes out to those in attendance and their loved ones. They know the risk(s) associated and so does everyone else, but it doesn't make it any easier when the worst happens.
Christopher
Last edited:
