The Pacoima plane crash - 1957
A recent blog of my daughter Jenifer addressed her Top 5 fears. One of which was a plane crash. In the blog, she referrenced something that happened to me many years ago. It prompted me to finally sit down and put some of my thoughts about it to "paper".
Back in 1957, I was a 7 year old living in the L.A. suburb of Pacoima, California. Pacoima was a one of many little towns in the east San Fernando Valley, a short distance from Burbank. My family had moved from Burbank a couple years before...after "immigrating" from South Dakota in 1952. We bought a nice new tract home that in today's standards was quite modest...the kind depicted in the TV series, Wonder Years. Those homes are probably still there today, only the area of town we lived in is now called Arleta (named from the main street that runs through it, the street we lived on). Today, Pacoima has pretty much delapidated into a ghetto, or one of the "hoods" of the once desireable San Fernando Valley. It is not a nice place any longer. One of Pacoima's claims to fame is that it is where singer Richie Valens lived. He attended Pacoima Junior High, situated right next door to my elementary school, Terra Bella Elementary. In late 1957, we moved away (20 miles or so, to Canoga Park) the extreme west end of the valley. And that is where I resided from that year until the early 70's.
On January 31, 1957 at 11:18 am...something happened that would probably affect me the rest of my life. In fact, considering that this happened almost 50 years ago...and I still think about it today...would be proof that it did (and still does) affect me greatly. I have dreams about it to this day...nightmares mostly.
A large, four-engine commercial airliner on a test flight over the valley collided in mid-air with an Air Force jet on a training mission. There were no passengers on the airliner, just a minimal four-person flight crew. The Air Force jet had a pilot and navigator. The two aircraft plummeted to earth from 25,000 feet raining debris over areas of the east valley, the jet crashing into an uninhabited area near my school. The airliner crashing into the athletic field of Pacoima Junior High School...the field was filled with students. It actually came in at an angle, clipping a church next door, skidding into the school, filling the schoolyard with flaming fuel, debris, and aircraft parts...and mowing down schoolkids.
Me...I was in class at Terra Bella Elementary in one of those "temporary" bungalos lined up right next to the junior high athletic field. Between our classroom and the field was a chain high link fence a few feet away. I don't recall exactly what our class was doing at the time, maybe reading...it was late morning. Those old bungalos had high celings and huge windows on the junior high side. The windows going all the way to the ceiling, the kind you need one of those long poles to close the top ones. They were all wide open...you could see the older, junior high kids playing soccer, or football, or baseball in the field...just a few yards away.
I don't think any of us in that class saw the plane coming down. There was no warning. No one noticed anything unusual. Many years later, I found a map of the school (from a Pacoima newspaper) that depicted the path of the airliner as it entered the field. Had it not crashed into the church and then into the athletic field, it would have continued on...into my classroom. As it was, all this was going to happen just a hundred feet or so from where I was at my desk.
The sound of the crash was deafening. Like nothing I had heard before. Not until many years later would I hear sounds like this, when I went to Vietnam.
One of my most distinct memories of that moment in time was my efforts to get under my desk. In those days, weekly atomic bomb drills were mandatory...it was the middle of the cold war. We would have to crawl under our desks, crouch on our knees, and place our arms around our heads. It was a part of school life back then. I say "efforts" to get under my desk since the desk and the building was shaking so much, I couldn't get under it. The desk was bouncing up and down like during an earthquake. My head was banging on the edge of it. The rumbling explosion sound continued...it seemed to go on forever. Kids in our class were screaming...the teacher was screaming...and some junior high kids were screaming outside the window, trying to climb over the fence outside the windows...attempting to avoid the flaming debris coming at them...and at us.
Behind the children climbing the fence, I could see nothing but orange flame and black smoke in the field, billowing up into the sky. Years later, I was reminded that some of the children climbing the fence were on fire. I remember seeing that...but had blocked it out for many years.
The teacher quickly decided that we needed to get out of the classroom, I hadn't been successful in getting under the desk anyway. She led us outside, the doors were on the other side of the bungalo from the junior high fence and the crash site. As we exited the classroom, I glanced up in the sky and watched the huge black and orange fireball billowing up behind our bungalo. Debris was falling everywhere. The teacher decided that this was not the best path considering all the flaming aircraft parts falling all around...she hurried us back into the classroom. At this point in time, most of my memories are a little blurry. The carnage right outside our windows was still going on. Kids were still trying to climb the fence. I saw things that I shouldn't...things that no one should.
Our teacher grabbed the window pole and started closing the windows and the blinds. It only took a few seconds. When all the blinds were closed, the classroom was now dark as the power had gone out. Children all around me were crying. The teacher was crying. I can't really remember how I felt at that moment. Probably just scared shitless! Maybe I was crying. I was 7 years old.
I don't recall the length of time we sat in that classroom before I raised my hand and asked to go to the bathroom. Maybe a few minutes, maybe half an hour. During this time, the teacher suggested we turn on the record player and play some records (anything to get our minds off what had just happened). I remember the whole class, in chorus, chunkling at this idea, as the power had gone out when the plane hit. "Oh, yea", the teacher said, "what would you like to do?" She began letting us all make a trip to the bathroom in pairs. "Hold your partner's hand and stay together...go straight to the restroom and come right back". The restrooms were also in one of those bungalos, a few yards from our classroom. My partner and I left the class and headed for the restroom. We had to pass by the outside covered lunch area, right next to our playground. Lodged inside this covered lunch area, resting on the picnic-type tables...was an engine...a fifteen foot long airliner engine, pretty much intact. Since the buildings now blocked the view of the junior high field, I couldn't see what was going on there...fortunately. The air smelled of burning gas, the black smoke continued to billow into the sky from the other side of our classroom building. There were pieces and parts of airplane everywhere. I remember picking a spark plug off the ground on my way to the bathroom (the airliner was not a jet, it had piston engines). I don't think I put it in my pocket...I just threw it back on the ground. Next to the lunch area was a huge piece of twisted and burned metal, about the size of a car...still smoking.
There were people running everywhere. Police...firemen...medical people...and parents looking for their children. My mom ran the quarter mile or so to the school and picked me up. She had heard the crash and saw the fireball rolling up into the sky from our house a few blocks away.
This particular air disaster did bring about changes in some aircraft procedures, ie, test flights over heavily populated areas. The official cause was listed as pilot error.
The documented human toll was 3 students and 5 crew members killed. Approximately 75 injured, many very seriously. Richie Valen's cousin was one of the three students who died in that crash (the scene depicted at the beginning of the movie La Bamba). Richie himself (a student at Pacoima Junior High) was not at school that day, he was at his uncle's funeral. The undocumented, long-term affects on the people involved and nearby...I suppose nobody really knows. I can only speak for myself.
I don't remember any formal psychological followup. In todays world, aftermath counseling is a given. Mine came much later in life I suppose.
One bit of information that reminds me of how fortunate I was that day concerns the classrooms on either side of mine. Those other classrooms next to ours were vacant that day...those classes were on a field trip. Both of them were filled with aircraft parts...a landing gear in one...burned engine parts and sheet metal in the other. Our room was spared. Why? Fate I guess. In any case, I must be still here for a reason...we just need to figure out what that reason is!
Back in 1957, I was a 7 year old living in the L.A. suburb of Pacoima, California. Pacoima was a one of many little towns in the east San Fernando Valley, a short distance from Burbank. My family had moved from Burbank a couple years before...after "immigrating" from South Dakota in 1952. We bought a nice new tract home that in today's standards was quite modest...the kind depicted in the TV series, Wonder Years. Those homes are probably still there today, only the area of town we lived in is now called Arleta (named from the main street that runs through it, the street we lived on). Today, Pacoima has pretty much delapidated into a ghetto, or one of the "hoods" of the once desireable San Fernando Valley. It is not a nice place any longer. One of Pacoima's claims to fame is that it is where singer Richie Valens lived. He attended Pacoima Junior High, situated right next door to my elementary school, Terra Bella Elementary. In late 1957, we moved away (20 miles or so, to Canoga Park) the extreme west end of the valley. And that is where I resided from that year until the early 70's.
On January 31, 1957 at 11:18 am...something happened that would probably affect me the rest of my life. In fact, considering that this happened almost 50 years ago...and I still think about it today...would be proof that it did (and still does) affect me greatly. I have dreams about it to this day...nightmares mostly.
A large, four-engine commercial airliner on a test flight over the valley collided in mid-air with an Air Force jet on a training mission. There were no passengers on the airliner, just a minimal four-person flight crew. The Air Force jet had a pilot and navigator. The two aircraft plummeted to earth from 25,000 feet raining debris over areas of the east valley, the jet crashing into an uninhabited area near my school. The airliner crashing into the athletic field of Pacoima Junior High School...the field was filled with students. It actually came in at an angle, clipping a church next door, skidding into the school, filling the schoolyard with flaming fuel, debris, and aircraft parts...and mowing down schoolkids.
Me...I was in class at Terra Bella Elementary in one of those "temporary" bungalos lined up right next to the junior high athletic field. Between our classroom and the field was a chain high link fence a few feet away. I don't recall exactly what our class was doing at the time, maybe reading...it was late morning. Those old bungalos had high celings and huge windows on the junior high side. The windows going all the way to the ceiling, the kind you need one of those long poles to close the top ones. They were all wide open...you could see the older, junior high kids playing soccer, or football, or baseball in the field...just a few yards away.
I don't think any of us in that class saw the plane coming down. There was no warning. No one noticed anything unusual. Many years later, I found a map of the school (from a Pacoima newspaper) that depicted the path of the airliner as it entered the field. Had it not crashed into the church and then into the athletic field, it would have continued on...into my classroom. As it was, all this was going to happen just a hundred feet or so from where I was at my desk.
The sound of the crash was deafening. Like nothing I had heard before. Not until many years later would I hear sounds like this, when I went to Vietnam.
One of my most distinct memories of that moment in time was my efforts to get under my desk. In those days, weekly atomic bomb drills were mandatory...it was the middle of the cold war. We would have to crawl under our desks, crouch on our knees, and place our arms around our heads. It was a part of school life back then. I say "efforts" to get under my desk since the desk and the building was shaking so much, I couldn't get under it. The desk was bouncing up and down like during an earthquake. My head was banging on the edge of it. The rumbling explosion sound continued...it seemed to go on forever. Kids in our class were screaming...the teacher was screaming...and some junior high kids were screaming outside the window, trying to climb over the fence outside the windows...attempting to avoid the flaming debris coming at them...and at us.
Behind the children climbing the fence, I could see nothing but orange flame and black smoke in the field, billowing up into the sky. Years later, I was reminded that some of the children climbing the fence were on fire. I remember seeing that...but had blocked it out for many years.
The teacher quickly decided that we needed to get out of the classroom, I hadn't been successful in getting under the desk anyway. She led us outside, the doors were on the other side of the bungalo from the junior high fence and the crash site. As we exited the classroom, I glanced up in the sky and watched the huge black and orange fireball billowing up behind our bungalo. Debris was falling everywhere. The teacher decided that this was not the best path considering all the flaming aircraft parts falling all around...she hurried us back into the classroom. At this point in time, most of my memories are a little blurry. The carnage right outside our windows was still going on. Kids were still trying to climb the fence. I saw things that I shouldn't...things that no one should.
Our teacher grabbed the window pole and started closing the windows and the blinds. It only took a few seconds. When all the blinds were closed, the classroom was now dark as the power had gone out. Children all around me were crying. The teacher was crying. I can't really remember how I felt at that moment. Probably just scared shitless! Maybe I was crying. I was 7 years old.
I don't recall the length of time we sat in that classroom before I raised my hand and asked to go to the bathroom. Maybe a few minutes, maybe half an hour. During this time, the teacher suggested we turn on the record player and play some records (anything to get our minds off what had just happened). I remember the whole class, in chorus, chunkling at this idea, as the power had gone out when the plane hit. "Oh, yea", the teacher said, "what would you like to do?" She began letting us all make a trip to the bathroom in pairs. "Hold your partner's hand and stay together...go straight to the restroom and come right back". The restrooms were also in one of those bungalos, a few yards from our classroom. My partner and I left the class and headed for the restroom. We had to pass by the outside covered lunch area, right next to our playground. Lodged inside this covered lunch area, resting on the picnic-type tables...was an engine...a fifteen foot long airliner engine, pretty much intact. Since the buildings now blocked the view of the junior high field, I couldn't see what was going on there...fortunately. The air smelled of burning gas, the black smoke continued to billow into the sky from the other side of our classroom building. There were pieces and parts of airplane everywhere. I remember picking a spark plug off the ground on my way to the bathroom (the airliner was not a jet, it had piston engines). I don't think I put it in my pocket...I just threw it back on the ground. Next to the lunch area was a huge piece of twisted and burned metal, about the size of a car...still smoking.
There were people running everywhere. Police...firemen...medical people...and parents looking for their children. My mom ran the quarter mile or so to the school and picked me up. She had heard the crash and saw the fireball rolling up into the sky from our house a few blocks away.
This particular air disaster did bring about changes in some aircraft procedures, ie, test flights over heavily populated areas. The official cause was listed as pilot error.
The documented human toll was 3 students and 5 crew members killed. Approximately 75 injured, many very seriously. Richie Valen's cousin was one of the three students who died in that crash (the scene depicted at the beginning of the movie La Bamba). Richie himself (a student at Pacoima Junior High) was not at school that day, he was at his uncle's funeral. The undocumented, long-term affects on the people involved and nearby...I suppose nobody really knows. I can only speak for myself.
I don't remember any formal psychological followup. In todays world, aftermath counseling is a given. Mine came much later in life I suppose.
One bit of information that reminds me of how fortunate I was that day concerns the classrooms on either side of mine. Those other classrooms next to ours were vacant that day...those classes were on a field trip. Both of them were filled with aircraft parts...a landing gear in one...burned engine parts and sheet metal in the other. Our room was spared. Why? Fate I guess. In any case, I must be still here for a reason...we just need to figure out what that reason is!
posted by James | 10:22 AM
30 Comments:
November 19, 2006-
I was looking for articles on this plane crash and ran across Adrienne's comments. I really appreciated it because I was in the second grade at Terra Bella and in Miss Uptegraph's class. We had gone on a field trip on this date, but came very close to being in the damaged classroom. I was in the front of the line and just between two portable buildings when Miss Uptegraph held up the line because two boys in the back were talking. That minute may have saved me and a few others because I heard the crash and looked over to see an huge explosion in the Pacoima Junior High playground (next door) that mushroomed into the sky. I tried to run home, but someone stopped me at the gate.
My classroom suffered major damage, with many airplane parts in the room. My desk was destroyed. There was a picture with a large airplane part on it with my teacher in the next day's paper. I was so thankful for the little boys that kept us from entering the classroom. I also remember being so happy that we went on the dairy field trip that Friday (and that it had rained on Wednesday, preventing us from going on the orginally scheduled day.)
However, I suffered immensely for many, many years due to witnessing the explosion, and knowing about the children who died and who were injured so horribly, and knowing how close I came to being killed or seriously injured that day by plane parts.
We received no counseling as people receive today in tragedies such as this, and basically, I was on my own. I suffered a fear of flying, as well as many other exaggerated fears.
My healing finally came in the most unexpected way. I went to see La Bamba with my daughter and my husband, and I had no knowledge of the contents of the movie, just knew I liked Richie Valenz's songs. I didn't even know he lived in Pacoima, even though I only lived a few blocks from him. When the movie began, I instantly recognized Pacoima Junior High School (even though I had moved away shortly after the plane crash) and when I saw the two planes above, I began to have an anxiety attack (I grabbed my daughter's hand tightly and she, although only about 16 years old at the time, immediately caught on and said "Mom, is this your plane crash?") Although I went on and watched the movie, I couldn't sleep that night and was very distraught for several days. I then called my parents and told them what had happened, and they told me that they never knew I was so traumatized. We had a long discussion of the fears I had suffered my entire life. I talked it over at length with my husband and my daughter. After that, I started to feel better.
I now fly all anywhere, but I still do not enjoy it.
I am amazed from the articles and blogs that I have read today that there are many out there like me who are still thinking about that day. I know I am fortunate that I didn't suffer physically as many did, but I still feel bad for them, as I did that day. I remember all the mothers running to the school to see if their children were okay. It is almost 50 years ago, and that day is still very clear.
I have been perusing the net looking for information about the Pacoima airplane crash. I was a third grade student at Terra Bella Elementary School when my class was about to play Bingo. While walking back to my seat, I heard a terribly loud airplane engine sound. Our classroom was located a few rows away from the fence to the adjoining Pacoima Jr High gym field. I looked out the open window and saw what looked like a silver cylindrical object coming from left to right at about a 35 degree angle. My entire class ran outside, including the teacher. We felt the ground shake at impact and felt the heat of the fireball as the fuel exploded. We quickly went back inside as I was later told there was debris raining down all around us. An engine had impacted nearby, sheet metal burning fuel lines and engine parts were found all over the school grounds. We, being the kids we were, picked up what we found but were advised to turn it all in to the teachers, for obvious reasons that we never thought of at the time. At recess many of us lined the fence to watch events unfold at the crash site. Helicopters flew directly over my classroom much of the afternoon. I recall seeing white sheets covering what I now presume were the remains of the crew and perhaps the victims on the ground. Many of the kids were picked up by their parents that day. My parents, having just immigrated from Holland came to see that we (my sister and I) were OK and decided to leave us in school. They had just been through the German occupation of Holland only a decade or so before and had seen carnage first hand. The plane crash, as terrible as it was affected them differently as many parents who had not experienced what they had and they felt it was more important for us to stay in school. The class activities were suspended for the day, as one can appreciate, and at three o'clock I and my sister went home with my friend Richard Ballinger and his mom. I eventually went to Poly High where I trained with the then track coach, Mr Vardanian, who was on the field that fateful day at Pacoima Jr High School. He is credited with
tying a tourniquet around one of the boys nearly severed leg. We discussed the crash on at least one or two occasions and he gave me a detailed and different perspective of what happened that day. I eventually ended up in Viet Nam in the Navy and went to college and eventually med school. I think of the crash every time I drive on the Golden State Freeway over the very spot where my class room stood 51 years ago and the memories of that day come back like a movie. None of us on this blog and elsewhere who experienced our own version of that terrible accident will ever forget it and keep in our minds the memories of those who had their lives forever changed by their injuries and especially those who had their lives cut tragically short before they could enjoy the experience of their teen years. I am forever grateful that more lives were not lost, yet still feel sorrow after all these years for the families of those who lost their lives
I have been perusing the net looking for information about the Pacoima airplane crash. I was a third grade student at Terra Bella Elementary School when my class was about to play Bingo. While walking back to my seat, I heard a terribly loud airplane engine sound. Our classroom was located a few rows away from the fence to the adjoining Pacoima Jr High gym field. I looked out the open window and saw what looked like a silver cylindrical object coming from right to left at about a 35 degree angle. My entire class ran outside, including the teacher. We felt the ground shake at impact and felt the heat of the fireball as the fuel exploded. We quickly went back inside as I was later told there was debris raining down all around us. An engine had impacted nearby, sheet metal burning fuel lines and engine parts were found all over the school grounds. We, being the kids we were, picked up what we found but were advised to turn it all in to the teachers, for obvious reasons that we never thought of at the time. At recess many of us lined the fence to watch events unfold at the crash site. Helicopters flew directly over my classroom much of the afternoon. I recall seeing white sheets covering what I now presume were the remains of the crew and perhaps the victims on the ground. Many of the kids were picked up by their parents that day. My parents, having just immigrated from Holland came to see that we (my sister and I) were OK and decided to leave us in school. They had just been through the German occupation of Holland only a decade or so before and had seen carnage first hand. The plane crash, as terrible as it was affected them differently as many parents who had not experienced what they had and they felt it was more important for us to stay in school. The class activities were suspended for the day, as one can appreciate, and at three o'clock I and my sister went home with my friend Richard Ballinger and his mom. I eventually went to Poly High where I trained with the then track coach, Mr Vardanian, who was on the field that fateful day at Pacoima Jr High School. He is credited with
tying a tourniquet around one of the boys nearly severed leg. We discussed the crash on at least one or two occasions and he gave me a detailed and different perspective of what happened that day. I eventually ended up in Viet Nam in the Navy and went to college and eventually med school. I think of the crash every time I drive on the Golden State Freeway over the very spot where my class room stood 51 years ago and the memories of that day come back like a movie. None of us on this blog and elsewhere who experienced our own version of that terrible accident will ever forget it and keep in our minds the memories of those who had their lives forever changed by their injuries and especially those who had their lives cut tragically short before they could enjoy the experience of their teen years. I am forever grateful that more lives were not lost, yet still feel sorrow after all these years for the families of those who lost their lives
By chance I came across this blog and would like to add my comments.
I was a 9 year old 4th grader at Beachy Ave. School, which if memory serves, was about a mile away, as the crow flies, from Terra Bella Elem. School. On that fateful day, during class, I heard an unusual sound from outside. As mentioned in the other posts, our classroom's windows were also very tall, and I set my gaze looking in a south easternly direction and that's when I saw the larger plane. It was on fire and falling at a steep angle. From my vantage point of view, I could see our open playground in the foreground and our cafeteria was on the far end of school. As I watched this plane fall from the sky, it was going from right to left and as it got closer to the ground, I remember thinking to myself ,OMG, it's going to crash right into our cafeteria. The plane disappeared behind the cafeteria and a second later, there was a tremendous sound and our classroom shook and all the windows were rattling, followed by a large orange and black fire ball. I remember feeling my face flush and feel very warm, it was scary.
I don't have much more memories of the crash,except my father later told me that he knew a man whose son was a student at Pacoima Jr. High and he said that his son was so scared that he ran non stop all the way home, at least a mile away.
I was 8 years old in a class next to the one with the engine in it. Your depiction of the incident is impecable! My memories are as vivid! My brother, 1 year older than me, watched the plane crash. My two sisters, one at our school, and the other in the school the plane crashed in. We lived just a few blocks from school. We lived on Arleta Ave. I remember far more than I care to say, as our class immediatly evacuated to outside, and I ran with a friend around the building to the chain link fence and was throwing dirt on items burning, and ..... not a pleasant sight. Moved to Acton in 1958.
Hi. I was a 2nd grade student at Terra Bella. But as I recall, the school was by coincidence on fire drill on the west side of the school when the plane went down. As it turned out, I was home that day a block away on Bonanza St. My mother grabbed me and ran to the school. We were one of the first ones to arrive on the scene. It was a gory, stomach-turning horror and I will never forget it. I still dream about plane crashes on a regular basis.
wow,
I remember this like it was just yesterday.
I was attending Mrs. Arklnads Nursery School on Laurel Canyon Blvd at the time.
I remember everyone shouting to come back, but I looked up and saw a big black cloud, and "silver stars" falling from the sky,
I was so freaked out by this that every time a plane would pass over my house I would cry.
I later found out that my best freind at that time brother was killed in the crash. Evan Elsner. It is so weird how life takes it's path.
When I first saw the move La Bamba, I was totaly freaked out. I had no idea this sceen would be in the movie, and it brought back all the horor of that day.
Thanks for giving me a place to vent.
God Bless and Love to all
sc
was in the 3rd grade at St. Genevieve looking out a louvered window that fateful day seeing two silver objects come together one from the south and the other from the east, collide then seeing only one silver object flying off to the east and seem illogical. we all then heard the sound of the larger plane coming down at an increasing sound pitch, then absolute silence. then a small mushroom cloud appeared to the east/southeast from our vantage point. after school rode the bike the few miles to Pacoima Jr. High where I was interviewed by the authorities about what I had seen. remember hearing there had been an assembly that morning that saved many students who would have otherwise been out on the field. some students said they could see the pilot wildly waving his hands gesturing for them to get out of the way. also remember roofs of homes with burned debris and black marks on them and the grass school field where one of the engines was half-buried at the far end. and sitting on a curb looking at a section of airplane seating that still had not been cleared of a body part and other personal effects. it was a DC7 with only a flight crew aboard, no passengers, the plane was still qualifying as a passenger plane. remember it like it happened this morning, am now 62 years old.
I was telling my granddaughter, Zoe (age 9) about the crash because my father, Thomas Colarusso, owned the Osborne Pharmacy (on Osborne and Laurel) when the accident happened. He was one of the founders of Pacoima Memorial Hospital which was built in memory of the victims of the accident. I was told the parents of injured children were frantic because the ambulances had taken them to several different hospital in the Valley and they couldn't find them. That was when my dad and others decided it was time for Pacoima to have a hospital.
Wow...I was 6 years old at the time, in class at Terra Bella School..My only memories of this event was the sound of the motor parts raining on the roof of the classroom..I remember hearing a 'boom' and I also remember smoke..Later in the day, whilst at home (we lived on Bartee), I remember the telephone constantly ringing (relatives calling from Canada, asking if I was okay, apparently) I remember when my Dad was driving us later, seeing a very large tire in the middle of the road..Our next door neighbour was a fireman, and I remember him talking to my Dad about the kids that had been killed and injured...I have not often thought of this event, funnily enough, however, like many here, when I saw the movie La Bamba, it all rushed back. Funny what the mind will do..
Wow! I was 5 years old at the time of the crash. I was residing in North Hollywood - near Whitsett and Roscoe. I was playing in the backyard that day when I heard the horrible noise. I look up and saw the planes - one was corkscrewing with a hugh black plume following it. My memories are vague - the sight of the black smoke and the plane are vivid, but not much else. I ran into the house yelling for "Mommie!" but I don't recall what happened next. I do remember hearing everybody talking about the crash later in the day, Pacoima Jr. High, and some children that were killed. I also remember going to the gas station with my Dad which was near the jr. high, and there was a piece of the plane in the parking lot. Thank you for the write up and to all the other commentors. I've thought a lot about that day and wanted to know more information.
Hi Skip,
I was in the 7th grade at the time, and was a student over in Burbank, at Luther Burbank Jr. high school. I was out on the athletic field in P.E. class when the crash happened overhead. It was seen by all the kids out on the field – and we all stood in amazement; seeing the man bail out (the radar man), and the pilot managed to steer it into an uninhabited place in La Tuna Canyon.
I was only 14 I think then. I have a good friend from grade school who was at the time in gym up in La Crescenta at Clark Junior High, she saw it even where she was looking over Mt. Verdugo. Seems it was all in surround sound and cinemascope vision. The sound was deafening. I and all the kids heard it. We were transfixed on it and many of the girls in their gym class were screaming or crying.
I have seen several other near-misses over our school while I was there. But this was the only mid-air crash I have ever witnessed, and it has affected me with what they call now PTSD (you Vietnam guys understand it as Post traumatic stress disorder). Whenever I think of that event, it brings tears to my eyes. I see by the others who have signed your blog, that they, too were affected this way.
I heard that after that crash, they made a law that no planes could test fly over populated areas – a bit too late for those who died in that crash. I know Richie Valens went there; he was at a funeral, that I knew, but it seems very strange that he would die himself a few years later in his own plane crash, dying with rockers Buddy Holly and the “Big Bopper,” J.P. Richardson.
Today I am 66 years old, living in middle Tennessee near Alabama border. We have an Air force base nearby, and we have B-52’s and jets flying over all the time, and hear sonic booms… and when I hear those booms, I flinch, thinking OH NO not again! I always am looking up at the sky when I hear those. It’s just something someone never forgets.
Thanks for posting your blog!
Ken Jaccard,
Winchester, TN
I do remember that day often. I was 5 years old and was at home with my mother. We heard a loud boom and the house shook. We ran outside and saw what looked like papers falling from the sky. I still remember the address of our house 9863 Rincon Ave. about two blocks from the school. All I remember is going to the school to get my brother and sister, they both went there and thank God they were not hurt. A lot of people were on the sidewalks just walking around and that is about it. I know it effected all three of us in different way, still my brother went into the Air Force my sister has flown all over the world and I became a pilot. Don't get me wrong every time I hear of a plane going down my first though is of that day. I have seen may airplane crash sites but this is the one that stays with me, as I can see it has stayed with many others. Pray for the ones that did not make it and thank God every day for the ones that did.
just found your blog about the pacoima airplane crash of 57. I had chills when I first saw La Bamba and the scene at the beginning in the playground at Pacoima Junior High. I was in the 4th grade at Terra Bella Elementary; about 3 bungalows away from the jr high. I remember the day vividly; my sister was supposed to be on the field for PE at the time, but they were fortunately delayed. My first question to my father when he picked me up was what about my sis?
He assured me she was okay. We lived practically across the street from the jr high on Terra Bella. I still have the folding binoculars that a reporter gave my mother for letting him interview her. Thanks again for sharing.
I was 6 years old at the time and in Kindergarten. We were in the bungalows with our windows (those high ones someone mentioned that reached to the ceiling)and do remember the fire drill and being told to duck under the desk. We had been so indoctrinated into thinking the Russians were going to drop an atom bomb on us that I thought the day had finally come when I saw the mushroom cloud rise above the bungalow across from us. It was horrific. My cousins were at the Jr. High that day and I remember talking to them through the fence. It was chaos because the school just let us all go and didn't wait for the parents to come for us as is done now. My mother was having coffee with two neighbors and they all jumped in the car and finally found us. It was a nightmare. Erlinda Enriquez
I was home waiting to attend afternoon Kindergarten class at Telfair Elementary school (Laural Canyon and Osborne area) when my friend and I heard an unbelievably loud whistling noise (best way I can describe it)coming from outside. We ran to the back yard and climbed the cinder block wall just in time to see that hugh Black cloud and feel the concussion of the impact less then a mile away.
My cousin Ronny Pain was on the Jr. high gym field that day and received some minor injuries.
As faith would have it less then 2 months later I transfered to Terra Bella Elementary when my family moved to Lev Ave. My class was in one of the bungaloes that lined the fence between Pacoima Jr high and Terra Bella school.
I will never forget that day.
Thank you for the blog. I came here looking for a familiar name and I found one... Erlinda Enriguez... Erlinda this is your best friend David Esterline now leaving in Portland Oregon.
DAVID!!!!! You probably won't believe this but I have been trying to find you for over 2 years now!!!! I joined Classmates.com to see if you were on there and tried to find others who might have known what happened to you!! I am so relieved to have found you!! Or, maybe you found me. Wow! I can't believe it, I am so happy. I'm on Facebook as Linda Enriquez Humphrey. Please look me up if you're on it.
Erlinda,
This is truly amazing finding you again and on this site of all places.
It was Kindergarten in that bungalow that I first meet you and we became best friends all the way through high school (SFHS '69).
I don't do Facebook but my wife (of 37 yrs) Debbie does. I'll have her check it out.
I got drafted in '71, married in '72, we have two boys 27 & 24 living and working in the Portland area and a 4 year old grandson.
I don't make it to the Valley much anymore.
Let's stay in touch,
David E
p.s. the elementary school I was referring to was Haddon not Telfair. We lived on Telfair at that time.
It was very interesting reading about this plane crash. Although I did/do not live in Pacoima, my aunt and uncle did. In fact, my cousin was born on the day of the crash. I remember my aunt telling me she and my uncle had a very difficult time getting to the hospital before my cousin was born because of all the emergency equipment going to the crash site. Their house was on Bracken Street, which was very near the elementary school. Later, when my cousin was elementary school age, he went to Terra Bella.
The date was January 31, 1957. I was a student at Terra Bella Elementary School, Pacoima, California in Mrs. Rorrig’s fifth grade class at the time. On the afternoon of that day I was walking along the back of the classroom which was notable for the large windows typical of such “temporary” classrooms in the San Fernando Valley. Such classrooms were erected all over southern California to cope with the burgeoning school populations the state was experiencing at that time.
I was stopped in my tracks by the high-pitched scream of what I was to learn was a large commercial aircraft plummeting toward our school and Pacoima Junior High School which was separated from our school only by a six foot chain link fence. I saw the silvery blur streaking toward the earth followed by a deafening explosion and a black and orange fireball which was at least 300 feet high. I distinctly remember watching the double hung windows on that wall shaking so violently that it was a miracle they didn’t all shatter! The smarter students in my class dove under their desks in a well-conditioned response to the many “Drop Drills” we had done in preparation for a nuclear attack in those dark days of the cold war. Me, I stood there with my mouth open and my eyes glued to the explosion and the slow-motion like object that was tumbling through the air…coming right at me. Later I learned that it was an automobile size engine from the plane. Transfixed I watched it come only to be stopped just short of the window in which I was standing by a steel lunch pavilion poll.
Someone pulled the fire alarm and all of us got in line and headed out on the playground. Suddenly we noticed that lots of things were falling out of the sky. Parts of the plane, body parts…some still on fire. Mrs. Rorrig quickly realized that the fire drill was a very bad idea and ushered us back into the classroom. There we waited for what seemed like an eternity for our parents to pick us up as they tried to get through the mobs of people, emergency service firefighters, and ambulances that had rushed to the scene. Parts of the plane were found in my own front yard nearly a mile from the school. Three junior high students were killed that day. About 70 other students were seriously injured or burned. I remember those scenes of carnage to this very day.
This is a real surprise finding this blog. I was in the 5th grade at Terra Bella and just reading all your remarkable accounts brings it back so clearly. I just remember the sound of the plane growing louder and louder and the tall windows that faced the jr. high shaking like they were about to blast in and cover us with glass. The teacher yelled "drop" and we got under our desks and I looked back just as the massive explosion shook the building and saw fire and very black smoke.
I thought the Japanese were bombing us as the war had only ended about 10 years before and me and my buddies always fought Japan when we played war. We lived on Osborne St, near Laurel Canyon and I went on to PJH and San Fernando High graduating in 1963. Then the Navy for 3 years, marriage and a son. Now an aging grandpa and yes I still have moments when I hear a very loud plane that drags me back to that terrifying day so long ago.
This blog as well as Joann Gurshin's web site has been very helpful in filling in the holes of my memory of that day. I was a fourth grader in Mr. Touhy's class and saw much of what has been reported. However, our class remained calm and followed as we had been trained for fire drills, being sent back to class quickly due to the still falling debris.
My mother was a third grade teacher, Mrs. Dickman, and my brother Roger was in a third grade class at the school, too. If any of you who were in the third grade remember events pertaining to my mother's class, please respond via this web site.
Chriss
Chriss my name is David, I was in the 3rd grade at the time of the crash, my brother Roy was in the 4th grade. I remember very vividly all the events of that day.
Iremember this crash. We lived in Pacoima, and I remember hearing the crash and stuff flying down. I must have been 6 at the time, but I remember people finding plane parts in their yards. I can't remember the street we lived on, but my mom told me the house was $8,000/$50 down! My dad worked at Bob's Big Boy, and our neighbor was a girl named Kathy. Her mom was named Ruth and she stayed in that same house for years! If anyone remembers me, I would love to hear from you. jlglassett@aol.com. Janie
Hi, my name is Steve and was also a 7 year-old student at Terra Bella Elementary School, Mr Stern's I think?? Our classroom was along the fence shared with Pacoima Jr. High.
I was not at school that day - I was home sick, much to my mothers irritation! I was pretty active and was driving her nuts, I guess.
What I remember was watching daytime TV (a novelty for me) when there was a huge explosion and shaking accompanied by a large fireball visible through our living room window. We lived on Vena, about 2 blocks from school. Time seemed to stand still. The power went out and my mother grabbed me and my infant brother David and hustled us into the hall closet. We had no idea what was going on until we heard sirens and my mom ventured outside and picked up information from the neighbors. She had thought it was a bomb going off (Cold War, you know). She was English and had lived through WWII in England and was familiar with the sound.
I remember being scared, especially when we found out about the student deaths and the fact that airplane parts had damaged classrooms in our school. I can recall that for years after, the sound of a airplane flying low overhead would set the hairs on the back of my neck straight-up and I would catch my breath. The fear gradually faded with time for me and I had no problems with flying.
What I find really interesting is that most of the comments are from Terra Bella student and neighbors - none from Pacoima Jr. High students. I guess some things are tough to remember - even after 50+ years.
Thanks for posting this blog.
My husband was one of the students on the playground. He remembers a droning sound and since it was an overcast sky not much of the decending plane until it broke thru. At the sound he says he started runninng....away from the sound as fast as he could run. The impact propelled him a distance and he was burned on his arms and scalp. He said he just started running/walking home, covered with fuel and bits of schrapnel. A neighbor lady found him in a daze trying to make his way to his house. She took him home to his mom who was in bed recovering from a hysterectomy and she almost had a set back when she saw him. He was taken in for medical attention. He considers himself blessed that he ran the right direction. He told me that the officials from Douglas Aircraft co. convinced his parents to "sign off" future litigation (I guess) by some token settlement. People didn't know in those days.. He has had nightmares and some emotional issues over his lifetime that I wouldn't doubt stemmed from this event.
I too was in second grade that day. It has never left me.
We were having Lunch at Reseda High .... sitting outside..We heard this Ka-Boom! sound, and saw two spinning silver things slowly falling far away.
We figured it was a plane crash at Lockheed, or Whiteman Field ...... Then somebody heard on their transister radio, that there had been a crash on the Pacoima school yard.
We all jumped in our cars & drove out of school like it was a drag race over to Pacoima..... Radios tuned to KFWB and KGIL to get the latest info .... I was 17 at the time ... Have Never forgotten.......
I was 3 and my sister was 7 when the crash happened. I was in a nursery school that happened to be on the grounds of Pacoima Jr. High. As strange as it might seem that at that age, I vividly remember the sirens, the panic of the adults, the chaos. There were police and firemen running everywhere. We were led somewhere else. I don't know how long after the crash that my mom was allowed to pick up us. I don't know how much carnage I saw, but reading the blogs above took me clearly back to that day. I a strange twist of fate.......I was in the recording business and in 1990-1992, I worked with Bob Keane who discovered and produced Richie Valens (was 'Bob-O' in the the movie La Bamba). We talk about Richie and that day. I went to Pacoima Jr. High from from 1967,68, 69 and had gym class on that very field was in student counsel.
Finding this site and ALL of the people commenting...was eye opening. I was 8yrs old and my name was King Kennedy. Francis E. Kennedy is my full name. We had just come back from a field trip to a dairy farm, that had been rescheduled for that day, from the week before because it had been cancelled due to rain. We were almost back to those bungalo classrooms and were in between them when the planes hit. I remember running to the opposite side of school and being pulled off of the fence (trying to climb out). With so many things that happened to recall 3 stand out, there was a piece of metal on my desk which would've killed me if we were there. One of the planes tires was in front of the school. Lastly, I don't know how long it was, but EVERY TIME a plane flew over, if I was outside I ran for cover terrified. We lived on Stanwin Ave and my Dad worked nights, woke up to my Grandmother screaming and having a flat tire, ran over to Terra Bella to get me.
Post a Comment
<< Home