Air Crash In Rockies Kills Wichita State Football Players

On Friday, October 2, 1970, a twin-engine Martin 404 carrying Wichita State football players, staff and fans to a game in Utah struck treetops and crashed near Loveland Pass in Colorado resulting in the deaths of 31 of 40 aboard (list of passengers).

This is yet another aviation accident which never should have happened. Wichita State signed a contract more than two months earlier calling for a larger and more powerful DC-6 to be used and the flight plan did not call for the aircraft to be anywhere near Loveland Pass on that day. So what happened?

Our story takes us back to the spring of 1970. Bert Katzenmeyer, the Wichita State Athletic Director, asked for bids from a few major airlines for flying his football team to and from road games. Not satisfied with the rates they quoted him, he found a "charter" carrier called Golden Aviation that was able to meet his budget.

On July 21, 1970, Golden Aviation signed a contract with Katzenmeyer to supply a five person crew for a Douglas DC-6, which was to be used to fly the team to its road games (including the October 3rd game in Utah). Golden Aviation had already made a separate arrangement with the Jack Richards Aircraft Company for use of their DC-6. These agreements were written in such a way as to not legally make either Richards or Golden the legal "operator" of the flight.

Unfortunately for all concerned, the DC-6 suffered damage in a wind storm and was not repaired in time to be used in early October. Jack Richards had purchased 14 smaller Martin 404's from Fairchild Hiller in 1968, but they had not been flown since 1967 (by Ozark Air Lines). Nevertheless, a pair of Martin aircraft were brought out of storage in Las Vegas in early September, recertified for flying, and flown to Wichita the morning of October 2nd. Both of the 404s would be needed to carry the nearly 80 passengers the DC-6 was originally scheduled to carry. The temporary FAA license to fly them was good for 10 days only and had expired by the day of the fateful flight.

Wichita State President Carl Ahlberg later testified, "Well, since the accident occurred, I have talked with Mrs. Harmon and other people who made trips, and discovered that there was a good deal of displeasure on the part of Mr. Katzenmeyer and Mr. Farmer that a DC-6 which they thought they had contracted for was not available, and that the team had to travel in two planes rather than one."

"Black" and "Gold"

Although the aircraft were painted red and white, the team referred to the two aircraft as the "gold" plane, which contained the starting players, coaches, and boosters, and the "black" plane, which carried the backups and other personnel. Black and gold were Wichita State's colors.

The gold plane also contained Kansas state legislator Ray King and his wife as well as banker John Grooms and his wife, who won their tickets as part of a membership drive for the Shockers' booster club. There was not room aboard the plane for all who wanted to go, however. Survivor Mike Bruce's mom once stated her desire to fly with the team and a teammate reportedly quipped, "We can't let you do that, Mrs. Bruce. If you saw the airplanes we fly, you wouldn't let us go."

It was a beautiful, clear fall day with weather not expected to present at problem for the flights. The crew of the "gold" plane consisted of Captain Danny Crocker, a 27-year-old mechanic with piloting credentials, and his boss, First Officer Ronald Skipper, the president of Golden Aviation. The flight plans for both aircraft were provided by first officer Ralph Hill, who worked with Captain Leland Everett in the cockpit of the "black" plane.

The plan called for the aircraft to fly to Denver to refuel and then fly to Logan via Laramie, Wyoming (see Flight Paths below). This route provided ample time to get the aircraft at a high enough altitude to clear the Rocky Mountains and, as captain Everett of the "black" plane later testified, it provided more "back doors" through which to escape if there was trouble.

With 35 passengers and a crew of four on board the gold plane and 36 passengers and a crew of three on board the black plane, the aircraft left Wichita a little after 9:00 a.m. (times shown are mountain daylight, consistent with the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) report).

Starting linebacker Steve Moore had worked near Loveland Pass and knew how breathtakingly beautiful the area was first hand. Former Wichita State basketball player Gary Curmode told the New Times in 1998, "He's the one who asked the pilot, 'Can we go a different route so I can show the guys where I work?' And the pilot, not being familiar with it, he looked at the map and said, 'Yeah, we can do it.'"

Starting cornerback Randy Kiesau rode the "black" plane to Denver, but snuck aboard the "gold" plane while it was refueled. He told his friend Bob Renner, "I've never ridden with the with the second team before, and I'm not going to start now."

Skipper actually bought the necessary aerial charts at the Denver airport while the aircraft was refueled but reportedly did not spend time studying them before the flight. According to testimony given to the NTSB, he bought the charts 15 minutes before takeoff and spent the remaining time chatting with passengers rather than reading the charts. This might not have been a deadly mistake, had he been familiar with the Continental Divide - which averages ~13,000 feet in the canyon he was about to fly into - but, according to his own later testimony, he was not.

Scenic Route

At just before half past noon, each plane made its way to the runway for departure. Captain Everett of the "black" plane was aware of the "gold" plane's new flight plan, but stuck to his original one and took off from Denver northward to Laramie - a much safer if less scenic route.

The "gold" plane was a full 5165 pounds overweight at takeoff. Though the aircraft would be expected to burn a few thousand pounds of fuel during the flight, the plane would even have been over 2,000 pounds overweight for the landing in Logan, Utah according to NTSB calculations.

The overweight plane lumbered down the runway and took a long time to get airborne. When it was a little over a mile past the end of the runway, the air traffic controller who cleared the flight noticed that the aircraft was unusually low and trailing smoke from the right engine. He called the aircraft to see if there was a problem. "No, we're just running a little rich, is all," was the reply and the last words heard by anyone of the ground from the flight. (The aircraft did not have voice or data recorders, nor was it required to have them.)

The aircraft made its way north out of Denver for a time and then headed west and south in the Rockies in order to find their way into the Clear Creek Valley, which they did around Idaho Springs. The altitude of Stapleton Airport is approximately 5300 feet, but they were already flying through a valley that was at a minimum 7500 feet and rising; Georgetown, another 12 miles to the west, was 8500 feet.

In order to really "wow" the passengers, First Officer Skipper, who was actually flying the aircraft, flew below the mountaintops within the valley itself. Having driven through the area countless times as a child and most recently in September, I can tell you that it is indeed one of the more beautiful places on Earth, especially on a clear day in the fall with the having leaves turned. And that opinion was formed from a car; I can only imagine how it must have been to view it from an aircraft.

By the time the aircraft made it to Georgetown, witnesses on the ground were concerned. An unidentified pilot for a major airline who happened to witness the plane as if flew over told the NTSB that it was no more than 1,000 - 1,500 feet above the town and appeared to be climbing at a slow airspeed.

Fly to the Crash Site!
	If you have Google Earth installed, click here to be "flown" to the crash site. Short of piloting your Cessna to Loveland Pass, this is the best was to understand what happened on Oct 2, 1970. (If you do not have it installed, get it from Google. It allows you to view virtually anywhere on Earth in 3D using satellite imagery.) If you cannot use Google Earth, click here to see a 1979 satellite (via Microsoft's TerraServer and the USGS) photo of the area.
	We also have a page with pictures of the memorial on Interstate 70, including satellite photos and a complete list of passengers.

An engineer with Martin Marietta also saw ill-fated aircraft as it passed over Georgetown and stated: "I had been a military pilot of multi-engine aircraft during World War II and was awed by the aspect of such a large aircraft cruising up the valley at approximately 500 to 1,000 feet above the terrain. The engines sounded as though they were throttled back and not at high RPM, a condition not in keeping with what would be expected if the aircraft was attempting to clear the Continental Divide. When the plane made a turn to the right, I noticed a mushiness to its flight characteristics. Both engines appeared to be running normally, no smoke, fire or sounds of missing or backfiring."

The players and their entourage were enjoying the beautiful clear fall day mostly out of their seatbelts standing and looking out both sides of the aircraft. Not everyone was at ease with the flight, however. Lineman David Lewis would testify that he was "very, very scared" because the Rockies were "towering above the aircraft" from shortly after they took off from Denver.

By this time, they were at 9,000-9500 feet and had been in the air about 20 minutes though the NTSB has calculated that it was nearly twice the amount of time necessary for the aircraft to have achieved 15,000 feet, had altitude been the goal rather than sightseeing. This altitude also made even a single engine failure nearly impossible to recover from; the altitude flown was reckless no matter how you look at it.

Another pilot familiar with the Loveland Pass area observed the aircraft as he was driving eastward on US Highway 6 (Interstate 70, which has largely replaced the function of both Highway 40 and 6, was not yet complete through this area) about two miles east of Dry Gulch. He stated, "Thinking it must be in trouble, I stopped the car to get out and look and listen. My initial and firm feeling was that the plane was in serious trouble as it was below the level of the mountains on either side that form the valley, and I didn't see how it could possibly turn around. Also, it was in nose high attitude and flying at a low rate of speed, obviously straining to gain altitude, but barely keeping up with the rise of terrain. I have driven over this route countless times and know that the steepness of the slope increases radically in only 3 or 4 miles from where he was and that the plane could never make it." He also said that both engines sounded good as the aircraft passed over him, and he did not observe any sign of smoke from either engine.

The aircraft, which was at approximately 11,000 feet, was entering an area where it either had to rapidly clear 12,500 feet (or more) or turn back towards Denver. Despite the accurate charts he had just purchased in Denver, Skipper seemed unaware that he was flying into a "box" canyon. Had he been at a safer altitude to begin with, he might have seen the Continental Divide ahead, but as they entered the area near Loveland Pass, his view was blocked by Mt. Sniktau (at 13,234 feet).

Though the pilot probably did not know it, the fate of the aircraft was sealed. According to later testimony by Ed Gaydos, chief of aircraft performance for the FAA, it was physically impossible for that plane to have turned in time nor to gain enough altitude to clear the Continental Divide (which is at 12,000 feet through Loveland Pass). He also stated that with the thinness of the air near Loveland Pass, the speed at which the plane was going, and the altitude it had at the time, the only thing the plane could be expected to do was crash.

First Officer Skipper evidently recognized the danger for the first time as well. He made a sharp right turn across Highway 6 in an attempt to escape the rising terrain via Dry Gulch, but Captain Crocker quickly realized this wasn't going to work either and took control of the aircraft.

Skipper later told investigators, "It began to look to me as if we were not going to climb so as to have clearance, sufficient clearance, over what I now know to be the Continental Divide ahead of us. I said something to the effect to Captain Crocker that maybe we should reverse course and gain some altitude. I initiated a turn to the right. We were to the left side slightly of the valley." He continued, "I initiated a turn of approximately 45 change in heading, a medium bank turn which in my mind is somewhere between 20 and 30 degrees, and as I was rolling out of this turn, Captain Crocker said 'I've got the airplane.' He initiated a left turn, the aircraft began vibrating, he put the nose down, and shortly thereafter we crashed."

The vibration was almost certainly related to the aircraft stalling. As one expert later testified, "My recollection of the Martin 202-404 series is, that in its certification configuration, it had a very pronounced stall buffet. There was no mistaking it when you got into the stall." The latter part of his statement suggested to some that Skipper would have known that it was a stall and that he phrased his testimony in a way to suggest everything was under control and that something mechanical happened to the plane to cause it to crash.

Linebacker Richard Stephens, who had been standing in the cockpit doorway immediately behind the two pilots, stated that the vibration felt like "a boat slapping water." Stephens stated that he went to the cockpit because he was concerned about how they were flying "beneath the mountaintops" but that it was clear that the pilots were unconcerned.

Later, while he was still standing in the doorway, he overheard the pilots discussing the elevation of the mountain peak ahead, and about that time the quick right turn and left turn were made. He did not recall any conversation between the two pilots other than this. The engines sounded normal to him and, until the right turn was initiated, it did not seem to him that the pilots were overly concerned about the flight.

After the aircraft made its initial turn to the right, a panicked David Lewis looked to flight attendant Judy Lane, who said, "well, this happens all the time." What Lewis did not know was the Lane had only a month earlier completed a flight attendant training program and had no prior aviation experience. (Flight attendants are taught to reassure passengers to prevent them from panicking.)

Survivor Mike Bruce told the Chicago Tribune, "Everyone was looking at the mountains. We kept getting closer and closer. We were enjoying ourselves, laughing. The plane took a dip... or something. Next thing, the plane ended up in the trees."

They were so close to the mountains that cornerback Johnny Taylor said to teammate Glenn Kostal, "If I had a rifle, I could hit rabbits down here." Kostal told the New Times, "The first sense that there was any danger was a very violent turn to the right, when the pilot was trying to do a (U-turn) to get out the canyon. Then there was a violent turn tot he left, and a tremendous drop, like you were in an elevator and somebody cut the cord. The stewardess was lifted up to the front of the plane, airborne."

Watching the event unfold from Highway 6, directly below crash site, was George Gruenwald: "My wife said, 'My God, I hope he doesn't land on the highway in front of us.' But instead he veered off to the right and kind up on a knoll, and I thought, what the hell is he going to do back there because there is just another big mountain back there. The next thing I saw was a big ball of fire coming up."

Survivor David Lewis, who knew something was wrong as the plane banked to the left, looked to his friend, Don Christian. "He just turned around and he had this expression on his face that I had never seen before. I can't say it was fright, but I do know it was concern," said Lewis. "He just looked at me like a brother would. I'm sure I was the last person he ever saw."

Bob Renner later told a UPI reporter, "... we all noticed that the mountains were above us. It was really beautiful. You had to look up to see them. I asked coach Wilson if that was normal and he said, 'It's just routine.'

"Then we banked twice and I asked again and he said, 'Yes, it's just routine.' The next thing I knew we went right into the trees. We had no warning whatsoever. I've asked myself 100,000 times why I lived."

The steep left bank Crocker put the plane in was a desperate measure to avoid the rapidly rising terrain of the valley, but it also stalled the aircraft into the mountain; they simply did not have enough space left for any maneuver.

The last bit of flying captain Crocker did before his death probably saved lives and, without the ensuing explosion, might have saved everyone. Crocker, perhaps resigned to the fact that the aircraft was not going to make it, leveled the plane out relative to the mountain. The impact almost certainly would have been more violent without this last adjustment.

The stalled airliner struck trees at approximately 10,800 feet up the side of Mount Trelease. Pieces of the aircraft broke off as it sliced through the dense forest for another 350 feet. Trees in that area were as tall as 50 feet.

Ten passengers and First Officer Skipper, who was occupying the left pilot seat, survived the initial impact and fire. One had been seated in row 4, and was the only person between rows 1 and 6 to survive. Two survived from row 7 with two more in row 8 and three in row 9. Survivor Richard Stephens was standing in the doorway to the cockpit and jumped into the forward baggage compartment when he recognized that a crash was imminent.

All but one of the surviving passengers had their seatbelts unfastened. They were thrown forward and to the left at impact. All who escaped from the aircraft did so through a hole in the left side of the fuselage or a hole in the right side of the cockpit.

"The impact ripped the side of the plane wide open and then I heard an explosion. It was burning pretty bad." Said Glenn Kostal, who was in the back of the plane talking to teammates when it crashed.

Tackle Jack Vetter, who was trapped with teammates Randy Kiesau and Don Christian near where Bob Renner had just escaped from, yelled to his best friend, "Bobby, I'm burning. Get out of here." Kiesau, who had switched planes in Denver, didn't say anything, "But he shook his head like he was telling me not to help him."

Rescuers first arriving at the scene stated that the fuselage was relatively intact, with a small hole on the right side and a large hole on the left. One rescuer related that he observed fire in the forward baggage compartment area. He was about to step inside the fuselage to assist any survivors when an explosion occurred, and flames traveled aft into the cabin.

"And as soon as I got out and hit the ground, we could see the fireball moving through the plane toward the front. Unfortunately, Johnny Taylor had been standing in a stream of fuel when the fireball hit, and that's how he got burned. He had the presence of mind to put himself out, but his burns were too severe," said Kostal.

Investigators believed that many of the deceased initially survived the impact. This was based on statements from the seriously injured copilot who saw and talked to passengers lying in the forward baggage compartment through the partially opened but jammed cockpit door. The opening was too small to reach them. One of the first rescuers on the scene of the accident related that he saw passengers on the floor in the forward section of the cabin and that they were moving but making no effort to extricate themselves. This rescuer noted that the seats in the aircraft resembled "broken furniture" and that many seats were pushed together in the forward section of the cabin. One of the survivors mentioned having to free himself from a seat which was on top of him in order to make his escape.

Construction crews working on what was then known as the Straight Creek Tunnel (later renamed the Eisenhower Tunnel) a mile west saw the crash and met some of the survivors as they came off the mountain. "When she hit, it took off the tops of the trees, but it didn't break up - only the wings came off," said worker Bob Nichols.

Ken Abrahamson and his coworker from Loveland Ski Area had received first aid training and were among the first on the scene after the crash. The entire fuselage eventually burned down to molten aluminum and the fire continued for nearly 24 hours. "The crash site was littered with baggage, shirts, playbooks, shoulder pads, athletic shoes, and football helmets," recalled Abrahamson.

The eleven who initially survived were brought 65 miles to a pair of Denver hospitals, including John Taylor and Tom Reeves in critical condition. Reeves, the WSU trainer, died 3 days later. Taylor, a cornerback from Sherman, Texas, died 24 days later. Both simply had been burned over too wide an area of their bodies to recover.

The Katzenmeyer's deaths left two daughters without their parents and the King's left behind five children. Flight attendant Judy Dunn had three children and was an elementary school teacher. Fifteen of the deceased were under the age of 22.

The second plane, carrying 23 passengers and crew, was on approach to Logan, Utah, when assistant coach Bob Seaman was summoned to the cockpit to receive a message from the university's president. He returned to the cabin after about 10 minutes and simply said to the players, "the other plane has gone down." The players soon left the airport for a nearby hotel where they were given sedatives by a local physician.

The "black" plane itself was soon impounded in Logan, Utah where the FAA alleged 16 violations. Pilot Leland T. Everett's license was revoked when it was discovered his medical certificate was expired.

Aftermath and Investigation

By November 8, 1970, the NTSB had cast aside any mechanical problems as a cause and issued a preliminary statement suggesting pilot error was the sole cause of the crash.

It was suggested that if the crew had realized the danger "less than one minute sooner," they would have had time to turn around and might not have crashed. The mountain on their right (Mount Sniktau) blocked their view of the bigger mountain (Mount Trelease) just ahead that they eventually crashed into. It was a mistake that no pilot should have made - not when he had newly purchased charts sitting in the cockpit which correctly showed the altitude and configuration of such obstacles.

The official NTSB report was released on Christmas Eve and concluded the probable cause was, "the intentional operation of the aircraft over a mountain valley route at an altitude from which the aircraft could neither climb over the obstructing terrain ahead, nor execute a successful course reversal. Significant factors were the overloaded condition of the aircraft, the virtual absence of flight planning for the chosen route of flight from Denver to Logan, a lack of understanding on the part of the crew of the performance capabilities and limitations of the aircraft, and the lack of operational management to monitor and appropriately control the actions of the flightcrew."

Finger Pointing

The day after the accident, the FAA announced that Melvin Hanson, the head inspector at its Wichita office, had informed Wichita State's ticket manager on August 14 that Golden Aviation did not have a proper certificate to fly aircraft of this size. The ticket manager in question, Floyd Farmer, died in the crash.

Golden Aviation, which had rightly been ripped to shreds in the media, held a press conference defending all of their practices and suggesting that they were nothing more than an "employment agency." Ronald Skipper even denied that he had taken a "scenic" route at all but instead suggested that it was the "direct" route. According to the NTSB, "The distance over this route is virtually the same as it is over the 'scenic route' flown by Mr. Skipper. The change in routing, therefore, was purely for sightseeing purposes."

In a effort to evade responsibility for crash, Jack Richards claimed that his company was not the operator of the plane, but that he merely leased it to Wichita State while Ronald Skipper of Golden Aviation claimed that his company merely provided the crew and also were not the operator of the aircraft. Both Richards and Skipper contented that Wichita State University was the operator of the aircraft and that they would have to accept legal responsibility. It was the position of Wichita State officials that they had merely chartered the aircraft and Wichita State was not the operator. An FAA witness testified that the FAA considered Golden Eagle Aviation to be the operator, and as such did not have the proper authority for the operation of Martin 404 aircraft.

It was very important to the future of Golden Aviation that they not be legally seen as the operator of the aircraft as the Martin 404's each weighed over 30,000 pounds without passengers and their FAA certificate only allowed them to "operate" planes of up to 12,500 pounds. (And that license was revoked shortly after the crash and they lost every appeal to get it back. During the appeals process, a pilot named Donald Pinger testified that he helped set up a dummy company through which Golden Aviation was able to lease the bigger planes.)

Transportation Secretary John Volpe was not amused. On March 3, 1971 and after many hearings in the Senate, Volpe called for an end to "shady operators" that charter planes "behind the corporate veil of dummy organizations."

In addition to Golden Aviation losing its licenses, Jack Richards was fined $50,000 and had all of his planes grounded pending an investigation. Lawsuits that took nearly a decade to settle were brought on behalf of the families against Richards, Golden Aviation, Wichita State, and even the FAA for not acting to prevent Golden from operating the flights when they were aware of the arrangement.

What If?

As with so many aircraft accidents, a number of factors were in play and if any one of them had been removed from the equation, these players, coaches and fans would have been attending a football game at Utah State the next day. Here are a few:

Memorial

Wichita State University created "Memorial '70" the day after the crash and a wreath is laid at the memorial in a ceremony each October 2nd. Survivor Dave Lewis attended the memorial service in 2005 for the first time. There is also a memorial about 50 feet from I-70 near the crash site. We have a page with pictures and more information here.

Assistance coach Bob Seaman, who was on the plane that safely landed in Logan, Utah, was hired to coach the team and the remaining players voted 76-1 to play the rest of the schedule, which they called the "second season." The NCAA had a rule at the time against freshmen playing on the varsity squad but agreed to lift it.

They opened on the road against ninth ranked Arkansas on October 24. Seniors Don Pankratz and Bob Hayes came out for the pregame cointoss along with John Hoheisel, another senior who survived the crash. Hoheisel made it to midfield with the aid of crutches. All three were given a standing ovation by the Arkansas fans.

Arkansas coach Frank Broyles, not wanting to run up the score against a team that had already been blown out of its first three games before the crash, got his starters out of the game as soon as possible. They left after 18 plays with the Razorbacks up 20-0. Future 17-year NFL quarterback Joe Ferguson threw for over 300 yards - as the third QB off the bench for Arkansas.

With 10 sophomores and 7 freshmen in starting lineup, the Shockers lost the game 62-0. None of the players who survived the crash played in the game.

John Yeros, a freshman wide receiver for the Shockers recently told the Wichita Eagle, "Those that died they wouldn't have wanted us to quit. It wasn't a great team to begin with. But it was a team that hung together."

With a roster now consisting of 43 freshmen, 24 sophomores, six juniors, and three seniors, the team lost all nine of its games in 1970, but played Louisville tough in the finale (losing 34-24). The 1972 Wichita State Shockers - led by the same freshmen and sophomores who voted to continue the '70 season - went 6-5 for their first winning season since 1963.

The program only had one more winning season - 8-3 in 1982 - before it was discontinued following the 1986 season. Only 4,223 fans showed it for the final home game.

Utah State, which was to be the Shockers' opponents on October 3, 1970, did not have another football game cancelled until August 31, 2005, when a scheduled game against Nicholls State (Thibodaux, Louisiana - 66 miles southwest of New Orleans) was called off due to Hurricane Katrina.

The crash occurred less than a month shy of the 10-year anniversary of the Cal Poly at San Luis Obispo football team crash that killed 16 members of the team and six others on board. (Football broadcaster John Madden was a tackle on the '57 and '58 Cal Poly teams and famously refuses to fly to this day. He also refuses to talk about that crash.)

Tragically, this was not the only planeload of college football players to crash in 1970. A month and a half later, all 75 aboard - including the Marshall University football team - died when their Southern Airways DC-9 crashed. The 2006 movie We Are Marshall dramatized that event.

Sources: National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) report NTSB-AAR-71-4.
New York Times, October 3-18, 1970.
Chicago Tribune, October 3-11, 1970.
Los Angeles Times, October 3-17, 1970.
Washington Post, October 3-November 22, 1970.
New Times, October 1, 1998 ("Team Spirits" by Marty Jones).
Wichita Eagle, October 2, 1990 and October 2, 2005.