It appears his plane was struck by lightning . . .
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'Right Stuff' pilot killed in Georgia
Drew Jubera, Don Plummer And S.A. Reid - Staff
Friday, April 21, 2006
One of the country's legendary space cowboys, who test-piloted rocket planes in the 1950s that cleared the way for the nation's space program, died Wednesday when the 1960s-era single-engine plane he still flew at age 84 dropped out of a dark North Georgia sky and crashed in a piney gully during a thunderstorm.
Scott Crossfield, the first man to fly a plane at two times the speed of sound, was featured with other barrier-busting test pilots in Tom Wolfe's best-selling book and Oscar-nominated movie "The Right Stuff." He was viewed by his peers as an integral part of an exclusive club of rocket jockeys considered as fearless as they were adept.
Crossfield's death near Jasper, on his way home to Virginia from Alabama, was seen by many who knew him as tragic, ironic and somehow fitting. Never seriously injured in the air during years of flying his era's riskiest missions, Crossfield once derided trying to eject from a tumbling rocket plane as "committing suicide to keep from getting killed."
"We have a saying: 'There are no old, bold test pilots,' " said Robert Crippen, a former astronaut who in 1981 piloted the country's first space shuttle. "Nobody knows how he's going to exit the world, but going out flying would probably be the way Scott would have picked to exit.
"He was a test pilot's test pilot," Crippen added. "He was on the point of the spear as far as aviation was concerned, providing the lead to break sound barriers and previous barriers we hadn't challenged before."
Crossfield's body was found Thursday amid the wreckage of his Cessna 210A in a remote area of Gordon County, aviation authorities said.
He was alone in the plane --- the way he preferred it, friends and peers said --- when it crashed late Wednesday morning after leaving Prattville, Ala., bound for Herndon, Va., according to Capt. Paige Joyner of the Civil Air Patrol.
The aircraft, which left the suburban Montgomery airfield about 9 a.m., was last seen on radar about 11:15 a.m. Wednesday about 10 miles southwest of Ellijay, flying at 11,500 feet, said Kathleen Bergen, spokeswoman for the Federal Aviation Administration.
Strong thunderstorms, with hail nearly 1 inch in diameter, were reported in the area at 11:30 a.m.
'The plane just lit up'
One resident near the rural crash site was on his porch during the storm when he spotted the plane and saw it get hit by lightning.
"The plane just lit up, and then it went up a couple thousand feet and wheeled around," said Gene Stone, 66, who lives a few hundred yards from the crash site, near the border of Gordon and Pickens counties, about 70 miles north of Atlanta. "I thought it was heading back to the Gordon County airport, but then it sounded like the engine just cut off, and it went over the top of the pines as fast as it could."
Stone said it crashed in a swale filled with young pines and briars. Crossfield's family declined to comment when contacted by telephone just hours after searchers made the tragic discovery. Ed Fleming, his son-in-law, said it wasn't unusual for Crossfield to travel to places like Alabama.
"He does speeches around the country," Fleming said. "He was still very involved in aviation issues."
Judy Rice, a national Civil Air Patrol outreach director, said Crossfield was at Alabama's Maxwell Air Force Base to talk to graduating cadets about his past experiences as a pilot and engineer and to meet with CAP officials about a biannual national teachers' conference on aviation and space education. Rice said the two went over his well-equipped plane and his instrument flight plan and also checked the weather. Crossfield, she said, had a special computer in the craft, which he filled with oil before takeoff.
She insisted that the weather had to be a factor in his crash. Crossfield, Rice said, was an excellent pilot --- even at age 84.
"He is so sharp. I know how detailed he was," she said.
"Being a pilot, Scott and I talked about how we wanted to go when it's our time," added Rice, his friend for eight years. "We don't want to go in the bathtub. We don't want to go in a car. We don't want to hurt our plane, but we'd want to go in the air."
Despite his legendary reputation, the low-key Crossfield didn't fit Hollywood's swashbuckling, daredevil depiction of a pioneering test pilot in the mold of Chuck Yeager, a war hero who was the first to break the sound barrier and became a national household name. A 1957 magazine profile said a casual observer might mistake the slight, conservatively barbered Crossfield on the street for a "supermarket manager or a golf pro."
"He was not a guy to throw a white scarf around his neck and hop into a plane," Crippen said. "He was an engineer and a test pilot, capable of evaluating things from a technical standpoint."
"He was a good test pilot," Yeager said.
Added Ron Kaplan, executive director of the National Aviation Hall of Fame, in which Crossfield was enshrined in 1983: "His personality was not given to grandstanding. When he broke Mach 3 [three times the speed of sound, or about 2,283 mph], he did it out of his competitive fire with fellow pilots. He didn't promote it. He wasn't even supposed to do it --- he might've been reprimanded. The last thing he wanted was to be on the front pages."
Love of flying born early
Crossfield was born on Oct. 2, 1921, in Berkeley, Calif. His father was a petroleum engineer, and Crossfield took his first flight on an oil company plane at age 6, deciding then on a career in aviation.
He began flying lessons at 12, without his parents' knowledge, and took as role models that era's famous test pilots, Eddie Allen and Jimmy Doolittle.
After serving as a pilot instructor during World War II, he earned degrees in aeronautical engineering from the University of Washington.
Crossfield then joined the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (which became NASA in 1958) at Edwards Air Force Base, and for the next five years flew virtually every experimental aircraft around. He broke Mach 2 (two times the speed of sound, or 1,522 mph) on Nov. 20, 1953.
Crossfield then helped in the conception and design of the X-15, the most advanced rocket plane of its day. He once called test piloting "a kind of continual rodeo where you were not allowed to get thrown."
As a manned space mission approached, according to Wolfe's "The Right Stuff," Crossfield was told he was "too independent" to be an astronaut, and was asked instead to help choose men to pilot the program.
"Crossfield was the most prominent of the rocket pilots, now that Yeager was no longer at Edwards ...," Wolfe wrote. Yet Crossfield was told "Project Mercury just wasn't suited for the righteous brethren of yore, the veterans of those high desert rat-shack broomstick days when ... the pilot huddled in the hangar with the engineer and then went out and took the beast up and lit the candle and reached for the stars and rode his chimney and landed on the lake bed and made it to Pancho's in time for beer call."
After his final flight in 1960 in an X-15, Crossfield worked as a systems director for North American Aviation. He went to Eastern Airlines in 1967 as vice president for research and development.
From 1977 to 1993, he served on the U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Science and Technology as both an outspoken critic and cheerleader for the space program.
Wolfe said that had NASA not been pushed into the Mercury program by the Soviet Union's launch of Sputnik, it would have continued with the program Crossfield piloted and he could have been the first American in space.
"He was on the leading edge of what, except by an accident of history, would have been the frontier of aviation," Wolfe said by phone from New York. "Suddenly all of that was flushed aside. Here was a man who one moment was at the top of the highest frontier, when suddenly the curtain was pulled."
Yet Crossfield's legacy, while largely unknown to the public, appears secure among his fellow pilots.
"You don't break frontiers going into space by all of a sudden a big door opens and you walk through. You've got to take steps," Crippen said. "Scott took the steps required for us to be able to fly into space."