Debris on the Pacoima Junior High School Athletic Field
A few minutes after 11:00 AM on January 31, 1957, teacher John Buchanan (my dad) began recording the graduation ceremony being held for 800 students gathered in the Pacoima Junior High School auditorium.
Halfway through the recording — immediately after graduation speaker Linda Latrelle says, “We have only one life to live…” and moments after a new DC-7 collided with an F-89 fighter jet over the school, the DC-7 plummeted into the school’s athletic field just a few hundred feet from the auditorium.
Killed in the crash were three Pacoima students, the pilot of the F-89 and the four-man crew of the DC-7, whose final words to traffic control were, “Uncontrollable–we’re spinning over the Valley. Say goodbye to everybody–we’re going in.” The navigator of the F-89 had parachuted safely to the ground immediately after his jet’s near head-on collision with the larger aircraft. However, dozens of students on the Pacoima gym field were injured, many seriously.
The tragedy gained national notoriety when angry Pacoima parents successfully petitioned officials to prohibit future test flights over populated areas. Though the San Fernando Valley was considerably less populated in 1957 than it is today, it was home to hundreds of thousands back then.
In 1987 the crash was spotlighted again in the movie “La Bamba” as the reason Richie Valens, the 50s rock icon and Pacoima favorite son, was afraid to fly. Two years after the Pacoima disaster, Valens was killed along with his fellow performers and tour mates, J.P. “Big Bopper” Richardson and Buddy Holly when their light plane crashed near Clear Lake, Iowa.
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The quality of the recording is surprisingly good, considering it was recorded on my dad’s ancient Wollensak reel-to-reel and that it sat in our garage for decades.
The two-minute recording opens with Latrelle’s speech in progress. One minute into the recording, the faint-but-unmistakable sound of a rapidly descending aircraft crescendos into a roar of crashing airplane, immediately followed by the sounds of confusion and fear in the auditorium. The auditorium doors can be heard slamming open from the concussion of the crash. A school official tries to calm the students by announcing, “It was just loud–that’s all there is to it. It’s all over,” implying that the deafening sound they had just heard was a sonic boom (it was actually the plane’s wing exploding just above the ground, spraying hot oil and shrapnel in all directions). As the grumbling of 800 frightened students increases in the auditorium, the school’s fire bell can be heard in the distance. Finally, an unintelligible announcement is made as the school’s power goes out and the recording winds to a stop.
As far as I know, this is the only recording of the Pacoima crash:
Click on following link:
The Pacoima crash was of particular significance to my family for a number of reasons. My father and sister were both on the Pacoima campus when it happened — my dad as a teacher and my sister Pam, as a thirteen year-old student (it was her birthday). Needless to say, it was a rough few hours for my mom, who had learned of the crash but had to wait an excruciating two hours before dad called to tell her he and her daughter were OK. Additionally, Pam, who had finished Gym class minutes before the crash, was in the P.E. office asking for permission to retrieve the jacket she had left on the athletic field when the DC-7 came down. “I thought we were being bombed so I immediately dropped to the floor and assumed the ‘duck and cover’ position,” remembers Pam.
As a five-year-old kid, all I can recall of that day is seeing what appeared to be shiny bits of tin foil falling from the sky — parts of the DC-7 that had broken off after its crippling mid-air collision.
For a chilling and informative first-hand account by an individual who arrived at the school minutes after the crash, click on:
“‘Eyewitness to the Carnage’ – A Personal Account of the 1957 Pacoima Crash”
Wow, haunting yet amazing…thank you for sharing!
Hi Sean -
Yeah, “haunting” is right. A few months ago I was listening to the recording for the zillionth time, and decided to put it up on the blog. I was a little hesitant to post it at first because I didn’t want to remind the families of that horrible day in such a “real” way. However, I figured with so many years having passed it would be alright.
Thanks for the comment,
Russ Buchanan
Russ,
I TOTALLY understand and COMPLETELY respect your thought process regarding posting this, however to me this audio represents a piece of history for those of us who live or have lived in the valley as well as those who are familiar with the Ritchie Valens story. I wish that there was more footage, pictures, audio, and varies stories recalling the events that took place that day available on the internet. In short, my opinion is….GREAT JOB, MY FRIEND!!!
Take care,
Sean S.
I was five years Oldfield at a nearby nursery school when this happened. I saw it all and it has haunted me all my life. Later while I was in grade school I became friends with a girl who’s brother was killed in the crash.
Thanks for posting this
Hi Sandy -
Thanks for writing.
I suppose the single most interesting aspect of this story and the recording is how many people were, as you put it, “haunted” their entire lives by this tragedy. Even people who lived a considerable distance away — some who only read about it in the paper — were profoundly affected.
Thanks for your input,
RB
I was just 6 years old and leaving kindergarten at Beachy Elementary School, just west of Pacoima Jr. Hi. I was walking out the school gate when I heard and then saw the DC 7 crashing. The teacher on gate duty lead me and other kids back into a classroom. I was sure it was a Russian rocket attack because of the mushroom cloud that climbed into the sky after the plane hit the ground. Later I remember waiting with my mom to find out if my brother, a student at Pacoima Jr. Hi, was OK. I remember how scared my brother and I were, I still can vividly see that that plane crashing.
Hi Larry,
You were only a year older than I (I hadn’t yet started at Beachy), but you have a much clearer — and more disturbing –picture of that day. Even at the tender age of six, a kid knows when an object that big falls out of the sky, something is very wrong. Both our families were put through an emotional wringer that day.
Thanks for commenting,
RB
That sent chills up my spine. I read that some of Valens’s friends were killed when that plane touched down. Is that true? Is the beginning of her speech on the tape too, or is what you posted what you have? If that is what you have, it is miraculous that it survived this many years, and it happened to be recording that very minute. Did your dad turn off the tape recorder, or did it shut off when the power failed?
Hey GEoff -
Thanks for the comment.
Yeah, that is one stunning little piece of Valley history — like an audio time capsule. I remember seeing the tape — 1/4-inch on 4-inch reel — when I used to rifle through my dad’s tape collection as a nosy kid. He had been a radio announcer before becoming a teacher, so you can imagine how many tapes there were. It always caught my eye, though, because it was one of the few labeled by hand. Not to mention, the words “Pacoima Crash” intrigued the hell out of me. Oddly enough, I don’t think I actually heard the tape until I was well into my teens.
Dad was teaching English at Pacoima and was also coaching kids on their graduation speeches. So he decided to record the speeches during this pre-graduation ceremony in front of the student body. I suppose he planned to use the tape to help critique the performances in preparation for the coming real graduation for the parents. Because what you heard is the entire recording (digitally dubbed to CD from the original),he must have started recording after the student began to speak. The recording ended when the school’s power went out. That’s why you hear the tape speeding up at the end. When power is interrupted during a recording, it naturally slows the tape speed. When played back at normal speed, it will sound “Chipmunked.” The recording I posted is an exact copy of the original, although I did EQ it to bring out the voice and reduce tape noise.
Regarding Valens’ friends: According to a remembrance of that day by a friend of Valens, the young singer’s best friend was one of the three students killed. Here is the link to that and other fascinating, heart-rending stories from those who were there.
http://www.joangushin.net/ThenAndNow.html
Again, thanks for your comment and interest,
Russ Buchanan
Thanks for sharing Russ, wow amazing to read and hear the recording. My prayer to God is that everyone touched by this tragic event be touched by God in a special way to bring total healing.
God bless you all and thank you for sharing your stories. John 3:16
Sincerely,
Rudy Trujillo
PJH Student from the 60″
Hi Rudy -
Thanks for your comment and attaboy, I appreciate it.
Yes, many people were profoundly affected by this tragedy. I’m glad I was able to provide a forum for a few of the witnesses and survivors. I guess the real — though posthumous — thanks for this post should go to my dad, who kept the tape in such good shape for so many years.
Thanks again -
Russ Buchanan
I was in grammar school and heard the plane as it was going down. That sound haunted me for many, many years. That was eerie as hell.
Hi Marsha –
Thanks for the comment.
Yeah, I’ll bet that was a difficult sound to shake. Did the recorded sound of the plane going down sound similar to the sound you remember hearing?
I lived on Obeck, which was situated between Terra Bella and Kagle Canyon (north-south) and Canterbury and Beachy (east-west) so I was pretty far from the school and don’t remember hearing anything unusual. Then again, I was only five so everything probably sounded unusual. I do remember seeing shiny pieces of metal falling from the sky, though. The most vivid memory I have of that day was of my mom’s worry (her husband and daughter were at Pacoima JH that day). I had never seen her like that before and it scared me.
Russ Buchanan
I was one of the students who was on the gym field and ran from the falling plane. I was not hurt. The wailing sound of the plane coming down alerted us on the gym field and allowed many of us to take protective measures such as running away from the expected impact area.
Allan Hester
Hey Allan -
Thanks for your perspective.
There are few things I can imagine that would be more frightening than a large, breaking-apart airplane hurtling toward me. Fortunately, you ran in the right direction.
RB
That had to be horrible.,God bless all who were inpacted
I WAS THERE AND WILL NEVER FORGET, I WAS IN THE AUDITORIUM. AS WE WERE RELEASED TO GO HOME THE SIGHT WILL NEVER LEAVE MY MY MIND. STUDENTS CRYING, PARENTS SEARCHING FOR THIER CHILDREN, SHERE PANIC.. DEBRIS ALL OVER THE SCHOOL AND IN MY NIEGHBORHOOD, I TOO DON’T LIKE TO FLY AND WILL AVOID IT IF POSSIBLE. RITCHIE VALENS WAS MY FRIEND, AS WERE MANY OTHERS. HE CARRIED HIS GUITAR WHERE EVER HE WENT. HE PLAYED DURING LUNCH AND WHEN EVER ANY ONE WOULD LISTEN. A VERY SAD DAY AGAIN, WHEN WE LOST HIM…… MR. BUCHANAN WAS MY ENGLISH TEACHER AND A DARN GOOD ONE TOO..
Hello, Karen -
First, thank you for the kind words about my dad. He would have loved to hear that you remembered him as a “darn good” teacher — over 50 years later. He took his job very seriously.
I can only imagine the horrors and the sadness you witnessed that day. Your lifetime discomfort with flying seems to be a common thread among many who were personally affected by the crash — including your chum, Richie Valens.
Again, thanks for your comment.
RB
I was an eyewitness to the carnage. I lived on Bonanza St, just two blocks from the PJH. I was only 7 at the time, and I went to Terra Bella Elementary, next door. The two schools shared a common chain link fence about 10 feet high. On that particular day, I was home with a cold. The whole house shook from a sudden and violent explosion. My mother had heard the whine of the falling plane and ran out screaming, “Oh, my god, oh my god, I think a plane just crashed!” We looked out the front window and saw a mushroom cloud of thick black smoke rising over the schools. Nuts and bolts and debris began to rain down on roof, but nothing that was large enough to cause any damage. For some god-forsaken reason, my mother scooped me and a my baby brother up, and we headed for the sight of the explosion. Hundreds of mothers in the neighborhood were also running toward the school, all of them screaming as we all descended on the horrible sight. We entered the playground through the faculty parking lot and beheld a twisted, scorched and oil-soaked landscape. Wreckage was still on fire, strewn everywhere, having slammed into fences, backstops, basketball hoops, and, of course, children, who lay everywhere, burned and bleeding from gashes too grisly to comprehend. One teacher held a boy’s intestines from spilling out, as the boy screamed in agony, “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.” Teachers were everywhere, trying to comfort the injured. Off to one side, a large plane engine lay embedded 15 ft down in the Earth, smoldering with an acrid fume. Over by a demolished backstop, a burned and mangled crewmember was still strapped to a chair, his death stare looking out at the carnage that was all around. There was a huge part of the plane lying in the small church parking lot that bordered the east side, To the west, several of the elementary bungalows that skirted the playing field, mine included, were pocked with gaping holes where debris had torn through the fence and into the rooms.. A boy, his hair covered in hot oil, walked blindly along the fence. By fortune, all of those classrooms’ students were assembled on the other side of the school; had the children been there, the death toll would have been much higher. The police and ambulances finally arrived in droves, driving on sidewalks and front lawns to reach the school because the roads were clogged with frantic parents. I still remember one woman, horrified nearly senseless, walking through the wreckage screaming “My baby, my baby, where is my baby?” The police took charge and emptied the playground of mothers and gawkers. A perimeter was established, and we all stood outside the barriers, for several hours, watching ambulances and police and news trucks come and go. Women and men wept openly and copiously.
Hi Monk -
Man, those would be difficult images to shake as a kid — or as an adult, for that matter.
Yours is one of the most illuminating and gut-wrenching accounts of the Pacoima crash I’ve yet read. Were you old enough to grasp the enormity of what had happened? Or did the magnitude of what you had witnessed come later? I assume you went to Pacoima after Terra Bella. If so, did you learn the identity of the teacher aiding the injured student? Also, why did your mom rush the two of you toward the disaster?
Again, thank you very much for your detailed glimpse into one of the San Fernando Valley’s saddest days.
RB
wow… that sent chills…. as well as monk’s first hand account. How horrible was that!
Glad your dad and sister were not part of the carnage. I checked google maps and found that my cousin lived about 17 miles away from the crash. I sent him an email link to your site to see if he remember it.
Hope things are going well for you these days.
Good to hear from you, Rosemary.
Yeah, the memories I have of that day are hazy — I was only five. But that day seems indelibly etched into the brains of those who were there, including my sister and father. Small wonder, it sounds like it was a mini-Armageddon. I remember dad once said (and I mean only once — he rarely talked about that day) something about having to either identify or tend to (I can’t remember which) a boy who had sustained a horrible head injury. I forgot to mention in the story that the adjacent church was my family’s church. A large part of the plane came through the roof of a little room just off the sanctuary (that I remember vividly). One more way the Buchanan family was connected to that grisly day.
See ya on the Interweb,
RB
Sometimes it takes time to put two and two together. April 21 I went to my 50th San Fernando Class reunion. I had found a picture of Pam B. and 3 friends at HER Pacoima Jr High grad day, June of 1959 and brought it to the reunion with me. I had forgotten that John Buchanan was her father. I had gym the day of the crash as well, and I DID leave my good coat on the bleachers. Howerver, I did not ask permission to go out and get it, I just ran out, grabbed it and was not in the gym side door but a few seconds when the plane crashed. I turned around to see all the debri in the air. The grad speaker on the tape, Linda Latrelle is a good friend of my sisterinlalw. We attended the 50 yr memorial and tree planting at the school Jan. 31, 2007. Unfortunately it was not well publicized and many more would have like to attend. Linda made another speech that day.
Hi Phyllis -
Thanks for your comment.
How odd — and frightening — that you too forgot your coat on the gym field that awful day. The fates were definitely with you and Pam.
Coincidentally enough, my sister told me on the phone yesterday that she attended the San Fer reunion with her chum, Carol Crockett (maiden name). I couldn’t tell from your message if you saw her there or not. I’m sure she would have loved to see you and the photo.
Russ Buchanan
Hi Russ,
The memories of that awful day still haunt me. I have been avoiding hearing the tape until today. When we were finally allowed to leave the P.E. locker rooms, I started searching for our dad. I had no idea where he was and if he was ok. After what seemed like hours, we found each other. What a relief!
Another part of the story is that Russ and our mom had been at the Pacoima Congregational Church, just next door to PJH, earlier that morning. I was also worried about them. A part of the plane actually did land in the middle of the church, but no one was hurt.
I had no idea Phyllis had gone out on the field to retrieve her jacket. Thank God she made it back safely. Yes, Russ, Phyllis and I did see each other at the reunion. I recognized her right away. Just one more comment, January 31, 1957 was my thirteen birthday; one I will never forget.
p.s. I avoid flying too.
Hey Sister Mine -
Y’know, at the house we never talked much about the crash. If dad said more than ten words about it I’d be surprised. You and mom said even less. When I was writing and researching this story, I thought about how tough that day must have been for mom. Shirley told me that mom knew about the crash (Shirley forgot that mom knew very well about the crash, being next door at the church and all) but did not know how you and dad were for quite some time. I didn’t know you were going through a similar hell worrying about dad. Man, what a day!
RB
Yes I saw Pam and Carol. Pam and I have exchanged condensed life stories via email as we didn’t talk much that night. She gave me Carol’s email as she lives in Simi as does my sister and she seemed like someone I would like to get to know better. 55 years later and we who were there are drawn back to the memory.
Hello Phyllis, I was in the auditorium getting ready to graduate.LInda Lutrell was a very good friend of mine.I will never forget that day and just now listened to the recording.I was shocked at my reaction to it….I went to grade school and Jr. High with Linda and wouod love to connect with her again,its been years…..My name then was Lana Brosamle.Linda was in our little group of girls.Pat Cox, Dorothy Alexander, Marlene Sherman. If possible,could you give her my email??
halesplace@frontier.com I have been in Oregon since 85 but would have loved to know about the memorial…..I think Linda and the rest of us were in a daze the day we graduated.She was really pestered by reportors..It was a horrible day and one I will never forget.
Lana(Brosamle) Hale
I was nine years old and a student at Terra Bella elementary school that day. My classroom was located adjacent to the fence that separated the two schools. The class had just started to file out for recess when the whine of the plane cought our attention. I looked up and to this day could swear that some one in the nose of that spinning plane was waving their arms. The impact was deafening, followed by fire and thick smoke. I remember looking up and the sky being filled with what appeared to be confetti, debree from the crash. Our teacher pushed us back into the safety of the classroom, where we stood at the windows for hours watching the emergecy crews working. I was traumatized for years, fearful of every jet flying overhead, I am still uncomfortable flying. I may be mistaken, but didn’t part of the problem in handeling this tragedy come from the lack of emergency medical facilities in the immediate area?
Hi D. Miller -
It seems just about everybody who witnessed the crash, including you and my sister, developed a lifelong discomfort with flying. Small wonder. The more people who comment on this story, the more I understand how traumatic this awful event was for the kids who witnessed it.
I too remember seeing debris in the sky. But strangely, that is all I remember. I may have only been five, but you’d think I would remember the sound of the explosion or the sirens, considering that my mom and I were at the church adjacent to the school when the DC-7 came down. At the very least, it seems I would have remembered how shook up my mother was — her husband (teacher) and daughter (student) were at Pacoima JHS that day. Who knows, I may have completely repressed those memories.
I don’t know if there were problems with the medical response, but I do know that valley residents demanded that test flights cease over the Valley — and they did.
Thanks for your perspective and comment,
RB
Hi D.Miller – Do you remember you room number? – I too was adjacent to the junior HS. We saw the plane actually come down and crash in the gym field.A huge billowing cloud of Black smoke and orange fire Lit up inside of our classroom. I remember looking back at our teacher and seeing the light of the glowing explosion of flames on her face as she screamed in helpless terror. She and one of the girls in our classroom were clutched together. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. As I looked out the window, almost instantly people came from nowhere. They were frantically climbing over the fence to get into the gym field to help. I’ll never forget seeing one of the students hopping away to safety on one leg. Needless to say, I always ask GOD to please be with me and my family whenever we fly.
Thanks for your comment, Garth.
I can only imagine the terror and bewilderment you and your classmates must have experienced in those moments. Those sights would have been tough enough for any adult to handle, let alone elementary-aged kids.
On a lighter note — if you are the Garth Rodriguez I think you are, you were the lead singer in one my very first bands. Ah, the Internet! I was 12 and I played guitar. Actually, “played” might be overstating it somewhat. I owned a guitar, at any rate. I’ll shoot you an email.
Russ (Rusty) Buchanan
I don’t know what made look this up now, but I’m glad I did. I also was a student at Terra Bella Elementary School and witnessed the crash from my school room. Yes, my classroom was one row back from the fence dividing the two schools. I heard the screaming of the plane as it came in, and when I ran to window to see what it was, there was a loud explosion and a huge fireball that seemed to go 100 plus feet into the air. As we ran outside I could see the carnage from the crash, some bodies and pieces of plane laying everywhere. We lived only a few blocks from the school and my mother had been out hanging laundry. She saw the plane go down, and needless to say, was at the school in only a few minutes. I was only seven years old when this crash happened, and it has stuck with me all of my life. Some events just seem to get burned into your memory.
Hey Bruce -
Thanks for your input.
Yes, it is striking how deeply and indelibly the images of the crash are embedded in the witness’ brains. Not to mention, the lifelong fear of flying that many witnesses have to this day.
It’s strange, you were only two years older than I, but remember much more. According to my sister, my mother and I were at the church next to the school when the plane exploded and sent an engine through the roof of the church. You’d think I would have remembered that little detail — but no, the slate is clean. All I remember is the confetti-like pieces of metal floating down from the sky and later, when we returned to the house, my mom’s agitated state (my sister and dad were at the school).
Thanks again for commenting,
RB
Hi Russ
I was chatting with a man I met in the waiting room at Holy Cross Surgery Center today. We were both waiting for our Dad’s to have cataract surgery. We learned that we both grew up in the Valley. We both remembered where we were when the plane crashed in Pacoima Jr High. He was in Kindergarden at the school next door to Pacoima Jr High. I was at my friend Patti’s house, playing with her Mom’s box of buttons on the living room floor. I remember the floor jumped. I googled the crash to see when it occurred and was brought to your article. I realized I was only 3 years old. I can remember it like yesterday.
I remember you as “Rusty”, a classmate of my late brother Steven. I went on to read many of your wonderfully insightful articles.
Thank you,
Debbie Ambroff
Hi Debbie -
Wonderful to hear from you.
I remember you; you were Steve’s little, very cute sister who would careen around the house while your brother, me and the rest of the gang did what ever the hell we used to do back then. I think we played poker a lot. Of course, none of us knew how to play so our poker sessions were quite long and involved. We would inevitably degenerate into “everything’s wild,” which signaled the end was near.
Yeah, the Pacoima crash touched so many people. I’ve been amazed at the responses to this post and how many commenters who saw or heard the plane come down — but were not directly harmed by the crash — were nonetheless deeply affected, in one way or other, for their entire lives.
Thank you so much for commenting and for the nice words about the rest of the blog. ["blog" -- I don't think I'll ever get used to that word. It sounds like it should be the name of an evil extraterrestrial or something]
RB
I went to Pacoima Jr. High in the mid-70′s and remember some of my neighbors in Arleta speaking about it. Such a horrible thing to happen. My kids were watching La Bamba with me and I told them what had happened and my youngest son James (who’s very sensitive cried about it). God bless all of those who had family that were involved. And that Richie Valens died in a plane crash is so ironic and disturbing that it still gives me chills. I miss that school so much. It was kind of rough being one of the few white girls going there, but the cholas were cool to me (even on “patty day”) because I grew up with many chicanos who “protected” me. My mom moved me to the other end of the valley because of the violence. Sherman Oaks proved to be worse – mostly rich bitch snobs. Arleta/Pacoima will ALWAYS be my home. Can’t wait to visit from Michigan in a few weeks and I can’t wait to show my kids my real home.
Hi Susan -
I think this makes you my homey, Susan. Except I went to Pacas (“Pacoima” for those Sherman Oaks folks) in the mid-60s. Yeah, I liked Pacoima too — a true melting pot, and we all got along pretty darned well, cholas, cholos and paddies, alike. I lived on Obeck Ave (off Kagel, between Beachy and Canterbury) in what was originally called Pacoima, but later became Arleta for no apparent reason. I then went to San Fernando High until, in a fit of good judgment, they kicked me out. Poly High was my next stop, where I managed to stay until graduation. I still drive by the old neighborhood on my way to golf at Hansen Dam — it still looks nice (the many new wrought iron fences around many front yards notwithstanding).
I was only five when the plane came down and remember very little of that day, despite the fact that my big sister and my dad were on campus when it happened. Needless to say, it was one heck of a day for mom.
My dad had Richie Valens in one of his classes and remembered him fondly. Dad used to tell me that he thought Valens(uela) was very talented and was always trying to get him to leave the band he performed with and go solo. I was never sure if that was true or if it was just dad’s way of getting me to quit the band I was in at the time. Probably both.
I hope your visit back to the “homeland” proves to be a great time. And thank you very much for your take on that sad day.
RB
I just found this site. My husband was there that day and suffered burns and shrapnal (sp?) injuries. He ran as fast as he could from the “sound” he said. He left the school yard in shock and a neighbor lady found him walking home and picked him up. He told me that he’s not sure he wants to listen to the tape, but I’ll bet he will. He still has bad dreams and I believe he was profoundly affected in ways we may never know. He told me Douglas Aircraft offered his folks some token settlement and it’s too bad they didn’t know better than to sign off. Wouldn’t happen in this day and age. Thanks for the post/tape.
Hi Kathy -
At first, I was hesitant to post the recording because of its potential for reawakening the horror in people like your husband. I was afraid that survivors who had been trying their whole lives to get passed that day would be plunged right back in it by hearing the sounds again. On the other hand, I hoped it might serve as a catharsis — you know, lose the fear by confronting it. So far, the responses suggest that listening to the tape and commenting about it has been helpful to many, if only because the post offers a forum where they can get their feelings about that day off their chests.
If your husband decides to listen to it, I hope it helps.
RB
My cousin, Ronnie, died on the playground that day. One of three students. His sister and the rest of the Boyd/Brann family remember him with love. Thank you for posting this, it has been shared with the rest of our family.
Hi Gerald -
Coming from a member of Ronnie’s family, your comment is especially welcome.
My sister, who was a friend of Evan Elsner’s, told me today that our parents, John and Eleanor Buchanan, attended Ronnie’s memorial service.
Thank you very much for commenting and sharing the post with your family,
Russ Buchanan
I was there and a classmate of your sister Pam. I was in Drafting class next to the gymnasium and was knocked off my stool by the crash. Outside, we could see the carnage.
I came to this site preparing for my 50 year Polytechnic High School class reunion September 14 & 15 in Ventura, CA. I read the reports and listened to your Dad’s tape. My physiological reaction as I sit here now is unpleasant … which I hope and pray is an emotional catharsis.
Richard Berger was badly burned, but on our graduation day played piano beautifully, telling me his learning to play was therapeutic. Because we were children, and in an age when you simply go on with life, those I know of have done just that. Some buried stuff, as I’ve just learned, but getting that up and out is, I think, a good thing.
I don’t recall your Dad, but may well have had him as a teacher.
Thank you for your posting. I am grateful.
Leonard R. Schmidt
Hello Leonard -
Thanks for writing.
I, too, hope that the unpleasantness you felt was an indication of catharsis. For the most part, it seems the recording and the comments from witnesses/survivors have had a beneficial effect on those touched by that day. I remember where the drafting area was situated at Pacoima — you and your classmates were darned close to the field. Your account is the first I’d heard about Berger and his music therapy pulling him through — ah, the power of music.
From one Poly high alum to another, I really appreciate the thanks at your sign-off; I am now more convinced that posting this story/recording was a good thing to do.
RB
Russ, thanks for the time and effort to post and manage this thread.
I was on the field when the DC7 came down. When the plane hit I was running. The impact tossed me through the air and I landed in a hot smoking oil slick. My physical injuries were minor, my clothes and jacket kept me from getting burned by the hot oil. I remember, like so many others that have written, the pieces of metal, bolts and whatever the pieces are of an exploded plane falling all around. The heat from the 100 foot tall flames to my right were hotter than the oil I was laying in. I’m glad I was down, because there was an engine embedded in the asphalt 25 feet away in the same direction I was running. I was dripping, head to toe, from the oil and now walking with a limp rather than running. I still hear the sound of the crash, and the moments after. I see the screaming kid writhing in pain with his intestines protruding. (BTW, I believe the teacher tending to the kid, just a few moments later was Coach Vardanien). I don’t know if the kids there ever heal completely. I can talk about the experience, but right now I’m shaking inside.
Thanks, I’m ok.
Hey Bill -
Thanks for commenting and for the attaboy.
Yours is one of the more terrifying accounts of that day. How do you know you’re having a horrible experience? When you’re thankful that you were blown into a pool of hot airplane oil rather than being allowed to continue on your chosen path. I’m fairly sure that a few commenters here were remembering you when they wrote about seeing a kid drenched in smoking oil walking/hobbling past them as they ran.
I’m so glad you were able to remember the coach’s name — Coach Vardanien. I think there was a lot of heroism on that day, but few names have been mentioned. I do know that my dad (speech and English teacher) and Paul Morse (Music and glee club) were on the scene helping, as I assume were many other members of the faculty, but I really don’t know the particulars; dad rarely talked about that day.
Again, Bill, thanks so much for your input.
RB
I was amazed to run across your recording of the sounds of that tragic day. I was in the 8th grade at Sun Valley Junior High and I was having lunch with 3 of my buddies. I remember it as a warm day,bright sunny day,no clouds and you could see forever. One of the guys started pointing to the sky to the northwest and we saw the DC7 plummeting to earth. When we caught sight of the aircraft it appeared that it’s decent was nearly vertical. As soon as it disappeared on the horizon a large black plume of smoke appeared. And then one of the guys pointed to the northeast and we caught sight of the F89 going down at probably a 45 degree angle and appeared to crash into the foothills(I think I heard later that it ended up in the La Tuna Canyon area). And then someone pointed high in the sky and we saw a parachute (which turned out to be the surviving crewman of the F89) and watched it descend and it appeared to land not too far from our school. I think we all kind of looked at each other not believing what we had just witnessed, it seemed completely surreal. Of course we didn’t know what all had taken place until after we got home from school as communication in those days was nothing like today. One of the guys (last name Mitchell)was on the Poly High football team I was on and was one of the kids injured on the PJH field that day. Also just recently read from another site that indeed coach Vardanien was there to help the wounded and later would be my PE teacher at Poly and a track coach at Poly. Yes, like so many others this event is seared into my mind even though I witnessed it from 4 miles away and wasn’t exposed to the terror and carnage that so many others were.
Hey Randal -
Your comment is the first “wide-angle” account written here.
With all the illuminating and often soul-bearing comments from those who witnessed/survived the crash terrifyingly close, it’s easy to forget that there were many more people in the surrounding areas who saw the tragedy unfold in a completely different way. Certainly less frightening, but just as capable of creating lasting, disturbing impressions — the sight of two aircraft plummeting to their doom and the human cost implied, would be enough to sear into anyone’s brain.
Sadly, while researching the crash I found that Coach Vardanian died in June 1964 (Heroes and Teachers — Possemato, et al., Google Books) — a mere seven years after his heroism at age 34. I haven’t yet been able to find out the cause of Coach Vardanian’s untimely death.
From one Poly High alum to another: Thanks for your perspective on that day,
RB
I was at school in La Crescenta doing sit up’s out in our school field when we all saw smoke and the planes falling right after impact.
The first kid to see it saw the impact flash. At first it looked like one plane and it’s landing gear then as they got closer we could see it was two planes, then we saw the parachute. It seemed to take a long time to come down. I guess 20,000 + feet. Then we saw the smoke from impact. Like Randal said, I did not know where it crashed till I got home. I was 14 and will never forget it.
I was there too. I was 5 years old. We lived near by on Gain Street and I went to Kindergarten at Beachy Avenue School. I was playing outside. I didn’t look up, but I remember the horrible loud sound, like nothing natural, and then the crash and the earth shook. I ran inside my house and asked my mother what happened. She said she didn’t know but it must have been something really horrible. We got in the car and drove to the Pacoima Junior High. I thought it was actually a high school and it was a football field, but that was the perspective of a 5 year old. I remember seeing the field with all the plane wreckage, fire and smoke, and people around the perimeter. I remember seeing the hole in the field. Someone told me at the time that the pilot never ejected, but stayed in the plane and flew in to the field on purpose to avoid nearby houses. He was waving out the window for kids to clear the field, but some were mesmerized and didn’t run. The pilot died in the crash. I don’t know if this is accurate, but it was what I was told at the time. Not long after that we moved to Northern California. I never forgot it, it’s not the sort of thing you forget. Years later when the movie ‘La Bamba’ came out in 1987, my mother called me and said I had to go see it. She said the plane crash and the neighborhood were in the movie. Well she was right. It wasn’t exactly the way I remembered it, but it was there. I was glad to hear this recording of the sound. I always remembered it in my mind, but this was the first time I heard it again…amazing, it’s just the way I remembered. I think for me it was validating. Even though this crash was well documented, it just seemed to fade away and no one spoke about it, but in my mind it was big. If I ever brought it up or talked about it, people in Northern California didn’t know anything about it and thought I was being overly dramatic, so I just didn’t talk about it. Thank you for posting this.
Hi Lotus Louise -
All four crew members of the DC-7 died in the crash, as did the pilot of the F-89. The only crew member of either plane to survive was Curtis Adams, radarman of the military fighter jet. Adams’ injuries were not critical and he was able to eject.
As you can see from the comments here, you are not alone. Many people consider the Pacoima crash to be an important event in their lives. For some, a life-changer.
From a fellow Beachy-ite, thanks for commenting
(we might even have been in the same kindergarten class — Mrs. Aldridge was the teacher’s name. How on earth did I just remember that… I can’t even remember where I put the keys an hour ago?) -
RB
I want to thank you Russ for pointing me to the info on Mr. Vardanian. After reading the information I guess I was amazed at the life experiences especially involving the military that he had already accumulated when I knew him. A fine man whose life seemed way too short. Thanks again.
I can’t believe I came across this posting. I know it’s a little late to join the conversation but I felt compelled to share my memories of this horrific event. I had just turned five on the 16th of January and the plane flew right over me, raining down some sort of metallic confetti. At the time I remember thinking it was shredded paper. I heard the plane’s roar as it went directly over my head, just above the trees. IIt was making a screaming noise and then I heard a crash. I had been on my brand new Schwinn bicycle, riding on the sidewalk on Stanford Avenue across the street from my house on Sunburst Avenue. My mom came running out of the house, screaming for me to come home. Terrified, I couldn’t even budge. My Mom rushed across the street to get me, a little irritated with me it seemed. She scooped me up and put me in the backseat of the car. We raced toward Terra Bella Elementary School where my brother, Jimmy, was a first or second grader. We couldn’t get any further than the chain link fence surrounding the school. It seemed as if hundreds of mothers and their little children gathered at the fence line, frantic and crying. The elementary school was next to Pacoima Junior HIgh. It was chaos on the field of the junior high school. We didn’t know if the plane parts had landed in the elementary school classrooms. It was so scary. I’ll never forget the confusion, fear, and terror I felt. All of us at the fence line knew children were hurt and killed. As it turned out, my brother’s class was safe. It was so long ago and still a vibrant memory. My brother was terrified of flying his entire life.
Hi Debbie -
Thanks for your contribution to the conversation. By the way, I have a feeling that this discussion will be going on until we are both shuffling down the streets of Leisure World, so your comment is by no means “late.”
It sounds like you saw what I saw — the falling “metallic confetti” — which is just about all I remember from that day (I was the same age as you). I think you lived near me — we were on Obeck Ave, between Kagel Cyn. and Garber, so our vantage points were probably quite similar.
Your brother, with his lifelong fear of flying, is not alone. It seems like the majority of people who witnessed the crash and/or its aftermath developed the same fear. My sister, who had left the athletic field moments before impact, is definitely a white-knuckler.
Your assessment of the situation at the school directly after the crash is chilling and sad. A lot of human misery occurred on that day. But, there was also a lot of humanity and caring for others on that day, as well.
Thanks again for writing,
RB
Hello Russ,
Thank you for your posting the audio tape. I’ve always wondered for the past 55 years if there was anyone else here who remembered that day. I was ten years old and just made it out to the playing field of Burton Street School, to hear a loud explosion in the sky. Looking up with all my friends, we saw a huge black cloud of smoke and the planes falling to earth.
Later that afternoon when my father came home, we drove to the seen. I’ll never forget what I saw.
Thanks again Russ,
Chip Schell
Thanks for commenting, Chip.
Yes, not only do people remember that day, but it seems to be etched in the memory of many. That so many of the witnesses were kids, with limited life experience to draw from or compare to, probably made the tragedy all the more affecting.
RB
Hi Russ,
Thanks for the recording.
I remember that day too. I was in a special class at Montague Street School when it happened. It was a closed room with only transom windows. I remember hearing a loud screaming sound. It must have been the DC7 falling to earth. I heard no crash and saw no smoke. Later I returned to my regular class and started hearing rumors which I did not believe. still later my father showed up to take me home from school in the middle of the afternoon and told me what had happened. My brother, Richard Bliven, was in the school yard when the plane crashed. He was lucky and only got a minor elbow injury. His friend, Richard Berger, was not as lucky and got severe burns over much of his back and legs. We used to visit him at the hospital while he was recovering and suffering through painful skin grafts.
I have seen “La Bamba” a few times and it’s reference to this crash always makes me think about my roots again. Last night I saw it again and it and a recent visit to San Fernando got me looking at pictures of the Valley in the 50s.
Bob Bliven
Hey Bob,
Thanks for your perspective on that day. Coincidentally enough, your brother’s chum, Richard Berger, wrote in to this blog two days after you did. I’m going through new comments now and I should have his up in a few minutes. Yeah, I know what you mean about roots. Even though the comments here concern a tragic day in the old neighborhood, reading them reminds me of my old stomping grounds and what a terrific place it was to spend my first 17 years.
Thanks again for writing,
RB
I am 73 yrs old now and live in Tulsa,Okla. I was a Junior at Glendale High when this happened. The news of the crash spread like wild fire through the school even though we were miles away. I remember watching the news that evening, and one of the Mother’s of one of the boy’s killed was crying and said “I didn’t even kiss him goodbye this morning” This interview was on TV. I was sixteen then and even though miles away and knowing no one envolved, yet I was very traumitized by such a horror. So, it is not hard to understand why you cling to each other even though it was many years ago. To me, the most nightmarish aspect was the screaming sound the plane made as it fell. .I have watched many videos of ww2 bombers returning home after having suffered incredible damage to both wings and tail..yet they could still fly it . The DC7 had the outer wing clipped off….out further than the outboard engine. I suspect hydraulic lines were severed causing loss of control to flaps and the like. What caused the plane to break apart must have been due to extreme speed going down and turning in all directions. The explosion just before impact must have been from fuel tank rupture coupled with engines still running (I assume). Here it is in 2012 and we still talk about it. I don’t think it is necessary to know why.
Hi Russ,
The recording is amazing….
I was in the 4th grade at Montague that day. It was a warm day and our teacher had both doors to the classroom open. I sat in the rear of the room closest to the back door. There was a small courtyard between our building and the building next to us.
We heard a loud roaring sound and all of us turned toward the windows facing the courtyard. I looked across to the other building and saw a teacher named Mr. Snyder. There was a large flash and suddenly we heard the blast. I watched Mr. Snyder cover his face when the flash occurred and turn away when the blast came.
Our teacher ordered us under the tables thinking it was a nuclear attack. Everyone dove under their desks and covered their heads….I did not. I ran outside into the courtyard to see what happened.
I looked up into the sky towards Pacoima Jr. High. What I saw I’ll never forget. The sky that direction was filled with an expanding ball of metal and debris. I only got to watch it for a few seconds. I was totally mesmerized by it. Suddenly, Mr. Snyder saw me and literally picked me up by the scruff of my neck and the seat of my pants and threw me back into my room and dove in behind me!
I, like all of us that were there that day, will never forget it. Thank you for posting the recording.
Hey Rick -
Thanks for your terrific account of that day — moment, really.
You reminded me that my sister, who happened to be at the P.E. office next to the gym field when the plane went down, thought it was a nuclear attack, as well. In fact, I’d be surprised if lots of kids and teachers on and near the campus didn’t believe the same thing initially. In 1957, we were at the height of our nuclear war prep, with drop-and-cover drills regularly held for students. Hell, even in the mid-60s I remember drilling at Beachy Elementary (near PJHS) — sometimes we would even drop-and-cover along with the air-raid sirens the last Friday of every month (I guess the teachers thought the sirens brought a little realism production value to the whole thing). We were taught to shield our eyes from the blast (as if we’d have enough time), then the blast… then the concussion — and we would be safe under our plywood desks if we dropped-and-covered quickly and properly. Yep.
You were certainly an adventurous and inquisitive fourth-grader, weren’t you. No hiding under the desk for you; you wanted to know what was going on. I’m picturing Mr. Snyder hurling you back inside the classroom — man, what a day!
Thanks again for writing,
RB
Mr. Buchanan,
Thanks for your fascinating website, and for the chilling and haunting audio of the plane crash at Pacoima Junior High School. I cannot imagine what a horrifying experience that must’ve been for anyone who was near the school at the time, and thank you for giving the people who were there a chance to discuss their memories, and perhaps find a way to deal with what must certainly be terrible memories of that day.
My name is Mark Masek, and I’m the author of “Hollywood Remains to Be Seen: A Guide to the Movie Stars’ Final Homes,” a guidebook to find the final resting places of hundreds of Hollywood celebrities. Since the book was published, I started a website with a section called “The Stories Behind the Stones.” The intention of that section is to tell the stories of people who are buried in cemeteries around Los Angeles. Some of the people profiled are famous, but most are not. But every life is an interesting story that deserves to be told and remembered.
Recently, I added the story of the Pacoima Junior High School plane crash, and profiled the eight people who were killed, using newspaper archives and websites like yours to tell their stories. I also included a link to your website.
Since you obviously have a much more personal connection to the story and the events of that day, I’d like to know what you think of my version, and if you or anyone else involved has any comments, corrections or suggestions.
You can find the story at: http://www.cemeteryguide.com/gotw-pacoima.html
Thank you,
Mark Masek
Hello Mark -
Well done, Mr. Masek. I found your Pacoima crash page very informative and well written. From the take-offs of the doomed airplanes, through to the profiles of each victim, you told the story of that tragic day dramatically, accurately and compassionately.
I only had time to check out the Pacoima section of your site just now, but I find the premise of CemeteryGuide.com – “Stories Behind the Stones” fascinating. I’ll be back soon.
If you don’t mind, I’d like to include a link to your site on my Pacoima page.
Again, terrific work,
Russ Buchanan
Thank you, Mr. Buchanan. And yes, please, feel free to include the link. (And I hope you don’t mind that I included a link to your page.)
There is a link at the bottom to An extensive article and photos about the plane crash. Thought you might be interested. It was more information than I had ever heard about.
Sent from my iPad
Hiya Phyllis -
I assume you’re referring to Mark Masek’s CemeteryGuide.com “Stories Behind the Stones”. I agree — terrific site, very informative.
Thanks,
RB
My pastor, Apostle William T. Broadous, of Calvary Baptist Church of Pacoima had his pelvis crushed by falling debris that day and has since undergone several major surgeries. But he NEVER complains or asks “why me?”…This recording is riveting. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Thanks for writing, Volney -
I remember your pastor’s father, Rev. Hillery Broadous. Though I never knew him personally, I frequently heard the elder Broadous’ name mentioned in my house and at our church, Pacoima Congregational. I believe there was a connection between the two houses of worship during the 60s’ civil rights struggle. I didn’t know his son had been injured in the crash but I am glad to hear he is carrying on the family mission.
Russ Buchanan
Russ… I’ve read this from your website and only now listened to the recording…… My God…..
I was at Montegue Elementary School right across from our house…. and when my mom heard about the crash.. and how close it was she left work and came home…..she had a lot of neighborhood friends who’s kids were there.
I remember how frightened she was about it.
And now to again read the article and hear the recording how remarkably intact some memories can remain.
Love,
Mark
Hello, my erstwhile chum, whom I miss,
Yeah, putting up this Pacoima crash page has proved to be an amazing experience. The comments here show how deeply etched that day is in so many people’s memories. I guess the fact that they were kids when it happened made it stick in ways that will probably never be fully understood. All things considered, I think the recording’s stark — almost brutal — reminding of the tragedy has been cathartic for many of these folks. At least, I hope so.
It was so cold here recently, it made me think of the real, world-class cold I felt when we did your ballet in, what was it, 2008? I would narrate, go have a smoke and freeze my butt off, go back inside the theater, narrate, go have a smoke, freeze my butt off. Ah, the good old days.
I hope you are composing these days. I still watch “El Encuentro” now and then — there is a lot of beauty in that work.
Rusty
I was 18 years old when this crash took place. I didn’t live close to the event but was scheduled to fly on a United DC7 on Feb. 2nd to boot camp on the East coast. I had never flown on anything so this was to be my first flight. This crash and another (DC7 and Connie midair over the Grand Canyon July 1956) put the fear of flying into me. Since then I became a military pilot and have a greater understanding of flight along with the risks associated with flying. I have accrued over 2500 hours of flight and still an active civilian pilot. Thanks for this historic artifact.
Hey Bill -
What an interesting turn of events. Yeah, I do believe I would have been a wee bit nervous about flying in a type of plane that seems to keep crashing into other planes.
However, it appears you overcame your fear of flying IN A BIG WAY. I guess you figured the best way to keep those things airborne was to pilot them yourself.
Well done, Bill
RB
I cannot believe I came across this recording. I listened to it on the radio after coming home from school that day and it scared the living daylights out of me. I was sitting in class (2nd grade next to the window (Horace Mann Elementary, Burbank) I yelled to my teacher LOOK! as I watched the plane falling from the sky finally losing sight as it fell behind the mountain. We were all taken out as if a fire drill and watched a parachute decending. I cannot tell you how the events of that day and this recording have stayed with me all these days. God bless the lost souls, the injured and their families. This 64 year old 2nd grader will never forget. God Bless you all. Mark Littleton
Hi Mark,
Your account is the first I’ve heard of the tape being played on the radio, though it makes perfect sense. Back then, my dad moonlighted as a news broadcaster at KGIL and, I believe, one of the radio network affiliates. He probably took the reel of tape directly from Pacoima to his gig at the station that day for broadcast.
An interesting bit of info regarding the parachuting radioman from the fighter jet: the heat in his cockpit was so intense that sparks ignited a few spots on his parachute. He recalled gazing up at his chute on the way down and seeing widening circles of blue sky.
Thank you for your comment, Mark,
Russ Buchanan
My name is Terry Brown. I was injured in the plane crash and would like to talk with others who remember what happened….I don’t.
Hi Terry -
You’ve come to the right place. It seems many of the commenters here have vivid recollections of that day. If anyone wants to talk to you about the crash, they can contact me and I’d be happy to pass along your email address to them after checking with you. Also, you might be interested in the “Then and Now” site about the crash. Many Pacoima JH alums have commented there. http://angiejim.homestead.com/thenandnow.html
RB
I wrote a comment on 9March when my son told me about Russ Buchanan’s website. After that I spent time reading some of the other comments and read what Richard Berger had posted. I looked at the newspaper page showing the pictures of those of us who were injured and saw mine and his. When I connected Richard’s name with the picture I remember him. And, other than the pictures my parents had of me, I’ve not seen one of me until I saw the one on the page of the Pacoima Post. Richard noted he was in the Valley Hospital and, as I recall, I was too. The first time I regained consciousness I was in a room with Lloyd Hopkins. Then I don’t remember anything until I woke up again and the first person I was was Coach DeGroot at the foot of my bed. Since I was in and out of consciousness I don’t have memories that connect until Ray Lafinier (as I recall we called him Skip) were racing up and down the halls in wheelchairs. Maybe Richard was with us. I don’t have any memories of the actual crash but two people said they saw me running so I know I was awake for part of it. First, when I was in the room with Lloyd Hopkins he told me we were running to get behind the handball wall. And, second, several years later at a reunion, Richard Williams told me he saw me get hit in the head. Richard Berger wrote that he was in the hospital for 7 weeks, I think I was there longer. And when I got out my parents had moved us to Palmdale. Interestingly enough, my dad worked as a jet mechanic at the Air Force base where the Scorpian Jet flew out of. After we’d been there for a while a man named Kurt Adams came to see me….he told me he was the navigator that ejected from the jet and the only survivor of the two planes. I would like to talk with anyone who has memories of the crash because I don’t. Terry Brown (916)364 0440)
I wonder what made the Fire bells to go off? did someone set them off or?
Hey Christopher –
Very good question. Unfortunately, I haven’t a clue what the answer is. As a Pacoima alum, I remember there were many fire boxes (break glass, pull lever) throughout the school. I suppose a teacher or student activated one after impact. Just guessing though.
Thanks for the puzzler,
RB
Note from Russ Buchanan to those who were there:
Pacoima Jr. High alum Terry Brown, who was badly injured in the crash but has never been able to recall what happened that day, would like to speak to anyone who has a recollection of the events — especially someone who might have some idea of what happened to him. If you would like to help Terry fill in the blank spots in his memory, just write a comment on this page to that effect and I will pass the info along to Terry.
Russ Buchanan
Russ,
This is a bone chilling audio of a memory deep in my mind. I was in the auditorium (in the orchestra) as the soon to be graduates were rehearsing. The sound is a little different than I remember as the screaming of the plane fell to the ground. We thought we had been bombed (by the Russians)nearby. My mother and friend’s mother were in the auditorium as well. My sister was in the elementary school right next to the gym field. My Dad was at home less than a block away. The explosion knocked my Dad off the chair he was sitting on. My sister saw the plane coming and hollered to her class “Drop!” as we had been taught to do for impending disasters. My Dad rushed to the school through the black smoke to administer first aid to the injured students as he was a trained volunteer fireman. He never forgot the sight he saw the rest of his life. And of course was concerned as to the whereabouts of his family. The school administrators handled the situation very professionally and we were not allowed to leave the auditorium until our parents came to get us and of course we were routed around the sight so as not to see the horrible sight. For weeks after the crash there were people on the field, on hands and knees, picking up pieces of the wreckage. If it not had been for the change of schedule that day due to the grad rehearsal I would have been on that gym field as well as many more students. I am so thankful the plane did not crash into the auditorium as the disaster would have been even more tragic. Praying that all of those students injured who were injured (both mentally and physically) have been healed. I know three students died. May they Rest In Peace.
Hi Marilyn -
Thank you for adding your vivid account to the discussion. Yes, it’s sobering to think of what might have happened if the DC-7 had veered one way or the other — into the auditorium, classrooms or the many nearby residences. The loss of life could have been so much worse. As horrible as it was for the badly injured and, of course, the surviving families, had the plane slammed into the auditorium, with you, your mom, my father and a few hundred other souls inside, the devastation would have been too awful to imagine.
I’ve heard from many that the school staff handled the situation exceptionally well. I have often wondered what my dad did during the initial moments and after. As I wrote above, he almost never spoke of the disaster. I think he once told me that he tried to aid one of the three — then again, I may have conjured that up during my childhood.
Speaking of fathers, your dad’s actions on that day were those of a very good and decent man.
Thanks again for writing,
Russ Buchanan
Just a quick note, Russ. I remember your father as an extremely nice man. He was serious about educating his students and always had a very classy demeanor. I really liked him a lot.
Hi Marilyn -
Thank you for your kind words about dad. They are very much appreciated. I sure miss that guy.
RB
I was a 6th-grader at Haddon Avenue School that day. We heard the noise going over us, in the direction of the Junior High. A year or so later I had Helen Snipper as teacher of a drama class at Pacoima Jr. High. One day we had a “drop drill.” Mrs. Snipper then told us about that day. She said when the noise of the plane went over her classroom the kids all dove under their desks, without anyone yelling “Drop!”, and two kids grabbed the blinds and closed them, while she stood at the front of the room stunned by the concussion outside, not knowing what to do. She said she thought the kids would’ve survived a disaster better than she would have. I knew one of the boys who was injured in the crash. He had a true survivor’s spirit.
Hi Androphiles -
Yeah, it seems kids of the Cold War era were so extensively drilled with drop and cover” that they just naturally assumed the explosion was the Rooskies unloading nuclear hell on Pacoima. I remember, we used to have drop drills at Beachy Elementary often. Then, when I got to Pacoima Jr. High the drills just stopped. I never knew if it was because the school board believed nuclear war was less likely after ’65 or if they figured junior high-aged kids should be wise enough, in the event of a nuclear blast, to drop under their desks without rehearsal.
Thanks for your input,
RB