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Send us a text It was Saturday morning, February 20, 1943. The morning fog lay thick over the prairie of northern Texas and the rolling hills of southeastern Oklahoma, clinging to the fields and tree lines like a wet gray blanket. The sun had not yet burned through the mist, and visibility in a few places was little more than a few hundred feet. At this time of year, locals in the area—farmers, mostly—were used to crisp, clear mornings or the bluster of a winter wind. But this morning was different – the fog felt like it would take a while to burn off, if it ever did. Above that fog, somewhere in the pale early morning light, 12 small aircraft, each with a student pilot and student navigator, were flying a training mission. The young pilots, students who were early in their flight training, were searching for a break in the blanketing mist. These pilots weren’t from Oklahoma or neighboring Texas. They weren’t even American. They were young British airmen—cadets of the Royal Air Force – training thousands of miles from home. Somewhere up there, in the limited visibility, the group of twelve airplanes got separated. There was a group of three, and then that group of three became a group of two. But soon, each of those three planes found themselves alone in the fog, each desperately looking for a way out: looking for a patch of blue sky or, perhaps, a hole in the fog so that maybe they could take a chance at an emergency landing – somewhere; anywhere. Two of the twelve planes crashed in the fog that day. Four RAF cadets, a pilot and navigator in each plane, perished in the Oklahoma mountains. This is the story of those British pilot cadets who crashed on February 20, 1943, and a training program that brought a small piece of London, England, to a small Texas town named Terrell. In addition to the burial of the four British cadets, it also brought a memorial that was erected nearly 60 years later, by students of a different kind: Elementary school students who learned of the nearby airplane crashes in their reading class at school.

Send us a text On Saturday, December 28, 1946, a Lockheed Constellation airliner, known as the Cairo Skychief, was beginning the landing sequence at Shannon Airport on the western coast of Ireland. It was 2 o’clock in the morning so, naturally, it was dark. But it was also quite cloudy with low ceilings, fog and light rain – the visibility of the crew was restricted quite a bit. But this crew was experienced and the airport, despite being relatively new, was well known amongst international aircrews, as it was – and is – used regularly for both westbound and eastbound Transatlantic air traffic. Its location puts it in line with most direct flights to and from Canada and the United States. Yet oddly, as the crew was given clearance to land by the Shannon control tower and the plane turned toward the runway, the lights of the airport went dark. As the pilot struggled to compute this unprecedented turn of events, the left wingtip struck the ground. The aircraft then quickly crashed and caught fire. Like so many other aircraft accidents that are featured here on Radar Contact Lost, the weather at the time of the crash played a key role, yet it was not the sole cause – or even the primary cause of the crash. It would take months for investigators to understand what happened, but when the accident report was completed and made public, and the primary cause of the crash was revealed, it became clear that there was something much more significant than the weather that caused this crash. Of all the aviation accidents we’ve looked at on this podcast, we’ve never had a primary cause of an aviation accident like this one.

Send us a text It was the early morning hours of Wednesday, August 14, 2013, when a United Parcel Service cargo jet slammed into the ground about one mile short of the runway at the Birmingham-Shuttlesworth International Airport, in Birmingham, Alabama, located in the southeastern United States. Even though the plane was more than a mile from the airport, the crash occurred on undeveloped airport property – the plane did not crash into a neighborhood or a business district, or land on a highway; the pilot and co-pilot were killed, but there were no other fatalities or injuries related to this crash. Though the low clouds in the area certainly contributed to this crash by visually obscuring the airport from the crew, there were plenty of other things that added to a list of crash-contributors, including several mistakes made by the captain and the first officer, as well as the dispatcher for United Parcel Service. Take the weather out of the equation, and all the other errors that brought down this Airbus were the result of mistakes made by aviation professionals. Like so many other aircraft accidents that are featured here on Radar Contact Lost, this was a needless and avoidable crash. The sequence of events that led to this crash began before the plane ever took-off.

Send us a text The plane at the center of this episode of Radar Contact Lost was in a bad way: One engine was on fire – there were three others, but the plane was struggling to maintain altitude. In addition to the engine fire, it was experiencing turbulence and severe icing, it was crossing the mountains at night, and in the middle of winter storm. As if that wasn’t enough, the plane was also lost. It appears the crew didn’t realize they were lost, but they were well off-course, just the same.  This alarming situation was taking place over western Canada in a 4-engine propeller airliner in the middle 1950s. The plane had no empty seats. The passengers were likely unaware of the dire situation, though many had likely seen the engine fire and were aware that one engine was not working.  In this episode, we’ll talk about the plane and the mountain that the plane crashed into. We'll also talk about the memorial to the victims of Trans Canada Flight 810-9 and what it was like to be a passenger on a commercial airliner in the 1950s. I'll also share the meaning behind a weather term that I’ve noticed a lot of television weather forecasters use – and that they use it many times without an explanation – or at least without much of an explanation. The term is, “the atmosphere is capped,” or “the atmosphere is uncapped.” I’ll explain what a capped or uncapped atmosphere is all about.

Send us a text It was a little after 4 o’clock in the afternoon, on Friday, July 9th, 1982, when Pan Am Flight 759, a B-727 carrying 138 passengers and 7 crew members, began to climb from the runway at New Orleans International Airport. In only a moment’s time, the narrow-body airliner slammed back down to the ground, after just barely becoming airborne. It was stormy around the airport, but there were no advisories, watches, warnings or aviation warnings in effect. It was noted by the plane's own weather radar that rain showers (not thunderstorms) were located near the departure end of the runway. Given the weather conditions and the crew's flight manual, there were no avoidance or delay procedures recommended. When the planed crash-landed, it set a neighborhood adjacent to the airport on fire. What happened to Flight 759? Why was the plane unable to climb away from the airport? Why, despite thunderstorms in the area, did the plane's weather radar not indicate the storms? Why were there no weather alerts in effect? This is the story of a plane crash nearing the end of an era - an era of mysterious weather with unknown capabilities and destruction. Not that weather forecasters have it 100% figured out today, but this crash happened at a time when one of the great weather mysteries, the microburst, was only just beginning to be unraveled.  Join Radar Contact Lost for a seat in the cockpit of the fated airliner, as well as what it was like to be an aviation meteorologist in the early 1980s. Learn about advancements in thunderstorm prediction and even how to predict a microburst yourself. Also, learn why the latest technology of the time, the Low Level Wind Shear Alert System, was not up to the task.

Send us a text The first significant snowfall of the season had just begun in central Colorado. At Denver's Stapleton International Airport, Continental Flight 1713 began to accelerate down the runway for takeoff. Within a moment of lifting off the ground, the DC-9 slammed back down onto the runway, rolled over and skidded on its roof. The left wing tore away completely, then the skin of the fuselage ripped away, exposing the passengers to the frigid air, the snow and the horrifying sight of the blurred runway speeding past - nearly close enough to touch. On this November day in 1987, a series of mistakes by the pilots of two airliners, an airline, as well as the air traffic controllers caused the crash that took 28 lives. As investigators arrived at the crash site, they had a complicated situation to untangle. Why did the captain of the DC-9 put the very inexperienced co-pilot in charge of the take-off, despite the significant snowstorm and his lack of experience? Why were the air traffic controllers unaware of this plane's position until just moments before it started to roll down the runway? How did the heavy snow impact the air operations at the airport? Why was the crash initially blamed on aircraft icing, yet the plane had been de-iced before takeoff? In this episode, the Radar Contact Lost team will examine these questions, plus: We'll look at the phenomenon known as wake turbulence, we'll examine the weather conditions at the time of the crash, and the actions of the air traffic controllers leading up to the crash. We'll also discuss how aircraft are de-iced and the difference between de-icing and anti-icing. All of this and much more, including, of all things, a wake turbulence love story.

Send us a text This episode is about the crash of a small, twin-engine plane: a Beechcraft Baron 58. This crash occurred on April 22, 2019 in the Texas Hill Country, about an hour northwest (by car) from San Antonio. The flight was a relatively short one, from the west side of Houston to the Texas Hill Country town of Kerrville. The focus of the NTSB investigation of the crash was that the plane ran out of fuel, and it did. But why did a seemingly simple item reach up to bite this pilot and take the lives of all onboard? As usual with airplane crashes, there are several issues that contributed to this crash. The Radar Contact Lost Team will look closely at each issue, including an examination of the weather conditions that caused the pilot to make critical decisions that contributed to the crash - even though the weather conditions were not mentioned in the NTSB report.

Send us a text In what is a podcast series first - and perhaps last - for Radar Contact Lost, this episode does not tell the story of a tragic plane crash, but rather the intricate details of the landing of the Presidential Helicopter, Marine One, in dense fog. On this day, the fog was so dense, that the helicopter had to divert from its destination of the Presidential Retreat, Camp David, and instead land at a nearby high school football field. Our host describes the details of the landing with first-hand knowledge as he was the Air Force weather observer on duty at the football field that cold, rainy afternoon in the early 1980s. There was no crash, but how the president and his staff deal with unexpected weather conditions while airborne is a complicated issue. Join this episode for a fascinating look at air operations at Camp David, as well as Camp David history, a look at the VH-3 helicopter, the Alternate National Military Command Center and more.

Send us a text On October 12th, 1974, an Air Force weather reconnaissance Hurricane Hunter aircraft crashed into the South China Sea while investigating Typhoon Bess, taking the lives of the six crew members onboard. No debris was ever found, no sign of the crew was ever discovered. The plane seemed to have been swallowed up by the tropical cyclone miles from nowhere. There were no emergency radio calls for help or that indicated any mechanical malfunction. There were no witnesses. To this day, what happened and why remains a mystery. With the Vietnam War nearby, was the plane shot down? The team at Radar Contact Lost takes a look at the typhoon, the plane, the history of the Hurricane Hunters, and even the war and the likelihood (or not) that the plane was taken down by the enemy.

Send us a text On Tuesday morning, December 5, 1978, 22 people were rescued off the side of a high Colorado mountain in the southern regions of the Rocky Mountains. They had survived the frigid night at an altitude above 10,000 feet (over 3,000 meters). This was in the midst of a snowstorm, with temperatures well below freezing and winds howling above 30 miles per hour (that’s nearly 50 kilometers per hour). There was only minimal shelter. Some reports estimated the snow to be 8 feet deep and wind chill temperatures approaching 50 below zero. That they survived the brutal weather conditions is remarkable, but that they had also survived the reason for being stranded on the mountain – a plane crash – is even more remarkable. What follows is the story of that winter survival miracle, and the crash of Rocky Mountain Airways Flight 217.

Send us a text On February 3, 1959, a small, single-engine, 4-passenger plane took off from a remote airfield in rural Iowa. It was after midnight. It was snowing. It was windy. Moments later, the plane rolled over and flew into the ground at approximately 170mph – or about 275 kph. The 21-year-old pilot and the three passengers were killed on impact. The injuries to all four were horrific. This small crash, on a cold winter night, would reverberate through history – not only to this day, but likely until the end of time. But why? Did the pilot make errors? Was the young pilot in over his head? Was he even qualified? Could the plane’s instruments be blamed? Was the weather to blame?  And then there’s this: Was there a gunshot onboard that killed the pilot and took the plane down? In this episode, the Radar Contact Lost team will examine what happened – I’ll start with the weather, but there were other issues – issues that, on their own, might’ve caused the plane to crash even without the complicating factor of snow, wind and darkness. I’ll also look at the pilot and his qualifications. I'll look at the plane and explain its unflattering reputation. I'll talk to pilots for their perspective. And I'll look at the famous musicians (Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper) whose bright careers were tragically cut short.

Send us a text On the evening of February 12, 2009, Colgan Air Flight 3407 was on final approach to Runway 23 at the Buffalo Niagara International Airport in Buffalo, New York. It was dark, it was snowing, it was windy and the pilots had noted the accumulation of ice on the wings and windshield of the 78-seat regional airliner. Still, the pilots were not under undue stress as the cockpit voice recorders indicated a casual, unhurried atmosphere, there was even some unrelated chit-chat on the flight deck. Then, just moments before landing, air traffic controllers noticed the plane was no longer on their radar screens. Flight 3407 was down for reasons unknown. In the post-crash investigation, the most likely cause of the crash – the weather (including the snow, the wind and the ice) was quickly dismissed. If not the weather, then what happened to Colgan Air Flight 3407 that caused it to fall out of the night sky and claim the lives of all on board and one on the ground?

Send us a text On final approach to Havana’s José Martí International Airport in 1977, the Aeroflot Ilyushin IL-62M with 69 people on board, descended below the clouds and the pilot immediately was confronted with power lines between the plane and the runway – and the runway was close. The pilot attempted to pull the nose up to avoid the powerlines, but the emergency maneuver was not enough – the plane clipped the power lines and the steel-reinforced cables severed the vertical stabilizer from the rest of the plane.  Rendered uncontrollable, the plane pitched sharply down and to the right, impacting the ground within seconds of contact with the power lines. The plane burst into flames, and though the rear of the fuselage was relatively intact, there were only two survivors. What, exactly, happened on this day, some 46 years ago? An airliner from one of the world’s largest airlines clipping powerlines? A rookie mistake like this seems impossible. How did – how could – this happen? There aren’t many details, but the Radar Contact Lost team examines the details and tries to fill in the blanks.

Send us a text At just before 2 o’clock in the afternoon on Saturday, March 5, 1966, British Overseas Airways Corporation Flight 911, took off from Tokyo’s Haneda International Airport. Bound for Hong Kong, the Boeing 707 broke apart in mid-air, just 15 minutes after departure. The crash left no survivors. The weather conditions were not an issue – at least, nothing obvious: there were no thunderstorms, no typhoons, there was no rain or snow. In fact, it was a sunny, clear, cloud-free day. It was so nice that the crew had requested a clearance so that they could stray from their intended route to Hong Kong, so that the captain could give the passengers a glorious view of the snow-capped and iconic Mt. Fuji. It was while viewing Mt. Fuji in this “sightseeing mode,” that Flight 911 met its demise. What happened to Flight 911? What caused the mid-air break-up? Was it a bomb? Did the plane strike the mountainside? Was it a mechanical failure of some kind? Was the plane unsafe? Had the crew made a mistake? Or, despite the sunny skies, was the weather to blame.  In this episode, the Radar Contact Lost team will examine what happened. We’ll look at the airplane, the pilot, the airline and Mt. Fuji itself; we’ll also take a dive into the phenomenon known as Clear Air Turbulence - not only what it is, but how, why and where it occurs and why, on this day over Japan, BOAC Flight 911 was ripped apart in midair. 

Send us a text “When a Volcano Silenced a Boeing 747 Over the Indian Ocean," is the heart-stopping tale of a commercial jetliner – a Boeing 747 – that, contrary to every other episode in this podcast series, did not crash. However, the world’s largest passenger jet at the time came about as close to a spectacular and deadly crash as it could, before the crew saved the plane and the lives of everyone on board from near-certain destruction. Even after the plane landed safely, the mystery of what happened in the dark skies, so far above the ocean remained a mystery for days. How the superior airmanship of this crew saved the lives of 248 passengers, 15 crew and the B-747 has been called one of the most heroic of all time. Join the "Radar Contact Lost" team as we discuss the meteorology, the weather, the piloting, the plane and even the geology of this amazing story.