I'm not sure how all of this is going to come out. I'm not sure I will edit my writing, or keep this little entree locked away as a draft never to be published, or maybe I trust those select few of you that have access to my blog. You may want to skip over this post, it's not pretty, actually there is nothing pretty about this experience. So, for now, I will write as though I am writing to myself, a journaling of all that I saw and all that I felt as I witnessed something that I don't yet feel very comfortable discussing in depth about.
I work for DP Air Corporation. My company builds data centers for many fortune 100 companies; Nestle, Avnet, Mattel, etc... I don't do any of that, in fact, I don't understand much about data centers. I did explored one once, when the CEO, Arnie, was finally disgusted enough at my ignorance and forced me to accompany him in a tour of a facility. The tour was great, I went from knowing nothing to knowing about 5 very broad things. Luckily, I don't have to know much about the design/build side of a data center in my job. I am the "executive" assistant to the CFO of our company, Jennifer (don't laugh those of you that know how terribly awful I am at math or those that have seen me break down in tears at the sight of an Excel spreadsheet). I really like my job. I work 3 days a week and spend most of my time planning travel for our company and helping organize meetings and events. One of the biggest events I plan throughout the entire year is the Reno Air Races. Arnie is a pilot and a lot of his friends and clients are pilots so for the past 10-15 years Arnie has hosted a box at the Reno Air Race Event.
Starting in May, Jennifer and I make our first attempts at pinning Arnie down to go over the invite list, hotel list, transportation options, airfare, food, give-a-ways, shirts, and whatever else you can think of. As soon as I get some direction I'm off, this event becomes my main priority mostly because of what a perfectionist Arnie is and how he views this as our gift to our clients.
For 10 years Arnie has purchased Box A-49. As you can imagine it is a very elite box worth a lot of money. It's equivalent to the first row on the 50 yard line of a football field. He is very proud of his box and the view it provides for the races. I don't blame him for being proud of it, he works really hard to make this event special. There are 20 seats inside of each box and most years we get our box pretty full on all days (Wednesday - Sunday) but this year, because of the huge response we received, we had days where there was more people on our list than actual chairs in our box. We were a little stressed but luckily, we were able to purchase more chairs in a box in the B section. All was good. All was under control.
I'm telling this story way to slow.
In all the years that DP Air has hosted a box at the Reno Air Races an "admin" has never been invited. This year I was invited. Jennifer took me in to her office and explained that she was a little stressed out with how many people were coming this year and asked me if I would like to go and help her out... to tell you the truth, at first I was nervous. Not because of the races, I knew NOTHING about what that was like, but I guess I was more nervous to leave my family and I was nervous about keeping all these ex-fighter pilot/CEO/high roller/pilot people happy. I mean, they live in a completely different world than I do. They all have assistants (that's me), they all own airplanes that they fly to and fro in, some of them own fighter jets (this would include Arnie), most of them are Presidents or Vice Presidents or CFO's of a company, most of them have a dozen cars that they choose from as they drive to work in the mornings... and then there is me... MINI-VAN me!
Obviously I accepted the invitation to go Wednesday morning to Sunday morning (my boss told me she understands that I need to get back in time for church!!). Wednesday we arrived. I hurried ahead of everyone to get to the Peppermill Resort so that I could make sure everything was ready for everyone to check-in. At noon we met in the lobby to head out for our first half-day of the races.
On Wednesday and Thursday we had the same group (so I don't forget): Arnie Evdokimo, Jennifer Harler, Chris Barger, Arne Haussler (German), Chris-Justin Case (German), Bob Gracz, Marianne Bertino, Jason Bredimus, Gary Duplock, Alan (Gary's customer), Mark Taylor, Glen Thomas, Scott Mills, Al Evdokimo, Sheryl Evdokimo, Getz, Letice Jolley.
I don't remember watching much of the races that day, I was hyper focused on making sure everyone was happy and Wednesday is a slow day, not all the seats are full in any box or in the grand stands but Thursday, now that day was COOL! I remember hearing the National Anthem as the "Thunderbirds" flew over head. I wrote something like "I am feeling so emotionally patriotic today in Reno"... and I was. I even had some tears trickle down my cheek as I took a moment and honored those who have fought and sacrificed for this wonderful country. It was awesome, and I was starting to relax a lot more. I was starting to get sarcastic with my company and place silly bets on the races. I about had a heart attack the first time I heard the announcer say "there has been a mayday, looks like one of our racers has pulled out of the race". I stood looking frantically for a airplane that was out of control... I couldn't find it, and what was even crazier was as I looked around I noticed everyone in my box was still drinking their beers and eating their chips... HELLO, did anyone hear that?... a MAYDAY... HELLO????????? Well, apparently this happens a lot. In fact, one airplane crashed, a huge cloud of dust went up near the mountains... the announcer said, "the pilot is alright folks, we are listening to him in the cockpit now and he is fine, angry and cussing up a storm, but fine". Ummmm, why was this so strange to me but hardly anyone else batted an eye? I decided I needed to mellow out or this would be my very first and very last invite to the Reno Air Races.
Friday, September 16th, some of our guests who had arrived on Wednesday left on Friday morning as new arrivals were coming for the weekend. I remember being sad that some of my new friends were leaving and also realizing that I was going to have to start all over again with our new guests. But everyone seemed very friendly and I was already very comfortable with the structure of the day and the races.
Friday's group (so I don't forget): Arnie Evdokimo, Jennifer Harler, Chris Barger, Arne Haussler, Brian Desberg, Chris-Justin Case, Scott Mills, Letice Jolley, Vernon Price, Jim Smith, Michael Spandau (German), Steve Grover, Ryan Lee, Ken Getz, Al Evdokimo, Janis Evdokimo, Adam Evdokimo, Arianna Evdokimo. (arriving Friday night: Grant Gasson, David Gasson).
Friday's agenda was exactly like all the other days. Meet in the lobby at 9:00, catch the DP Air shuttle from the Peppermill to the races, hang out at the races, take pictures, eat, drink, check out the "pit", enjoy the patriotism, meet new friends, meet at 6:00pm, catch the shuttle back to the Peppermill, shower, dinner at 8:00 at the Bimini Steakhouse. I could say it in my sleep. But nothing ever seems to go as planned, not perfectly anyway.
It was a beautiful day. The morning was a little chilly for my Arizona skin so I wore my hoodie for most of the morning. We started off the day wondering around, the new guests wanted to look around so Jennifer and I accompanied them. Around 10:00am we were all in the boxes watching the races, talking about our families at home, talking about hobbies, jobs, kids, grandkids and cheering for our favorite pilots. I remember I like a pilot named Ernie. I liked him because on Wednesday while I was walking around viewing the beautiful aircrafts that were grounded I met Ernie, he was standing beside his plane as proud as could be. I asked him if he was the pilot (I knew he was either the pilot or the owner) he told me he was the pilot. As we visited with each other I asked him if he was going to win, he answered me in the most humble way, "I view all of us pilots as winners if we all take off and we all land safely." As we continued talking he mentioned his grandchildren. He told me that being a grandpa was the best thing he has ever been in his entire life. He told me one by one all of his grandkids names, he even got a little choked up speaking about them... I fell in love with him. Any manly man that gets choked up when talking about their family is my kind of guy. I told him I would be rooting for him every time he took flight. On Thursday he raced, I yelled as loud as I could for him, he took second place. On Friday he raced, I yelled as loud as I could for him, he took first place. After his race he rode around the audience in an old fashion fire truck, I yelled at him from my A-49 front row seat, he yelled back and winked. I really liked Ernie, I still do. Maybe I will look him up so I know his last name and find a way to get a letter to him, just so he knows that I like him. Just in case.
Around 1:00pm everyone was hungry so we headed out of our box in search for some greasy cheeseburgers and fries... it wasn't much of a hunt as every single venue provided just that, cheeseburgers and fries... yum. After lunch we went back to our seats to watch more races. I sat next to Chris Barger most of the time. Chris is Arnie's best friend in the entire world and, of course, a pilot. He had lots of patience with me as I'm sure I asked him the most ignorant questions ever. "Why is that pilot doing that? Why does that airplane look like that? What kind of plane did Amelia Airhart fly? Why do those jets sound like that? Who's in first place? Where is the guy in first place? I can't see where you are pointing... what?"... oh poor Chris! I could tell, just by being next to him, how much passion and love he had for the sport, the planes, jets, military aircrafts, etc... he was great at answering all my questions and being happy about it at the same time. Chris is a really good guy, I'm sure he wanted to smack me a few dozen times but he didn't. Chris would prove to be a true hero by the end of this day.
Around 4:15pm I went with Jennifer and Ryan to get more food and drinks. As we were entering the ticket area to get back to our box I shouted at Jen "hey, I'm going shopping, I'm going to look for some souvenirs for my kids." I knew I had another full day to look for souvenirs but I also needed a little break and to stretch my legs a bit longer. And, after all, it was the last race of the day and I planned on being back before it was over because I left some of my things in the box, including my hoodie. Ryan was heading back with Jen when I noticed him running towards me. Ryan is engaged to be married in less than a month and informed me that he probably should come with me in hopes of finding something to take home to his fiancé. I was happy to have his company, Ryan is my age or a year older so we just hung out and laughed on our little outing.
Not long into our search for gifts did we realize that everything at the races was overpriced (well, overpriced according to me... MINI-VAN DRIVER) so we ended up walking toward the military planes. Ryan mentioned to me that he wanted to get a good shot to send to his dad and asked me if I could take it with my iPhone and text it to him so he could send it to his father right away. Just like a good hostess, I took the picture and right after I text it to him I realized that Arnie and Al were standing near us. Ryan and I went over and said hello.
I was messing with my camera because Arnie joked all week that it was my job to get good pictures, you know, to pay my way! He was kidding but I was hoping to get some good pictures. I normally keep my camera on the automatic setting because I know NOTHING about actually using all the fun features that my camera offers but I was experimenting on this day. I remember Al Evdokimo was talking and I kept changing my camera settings and shooting pictures of him, he asked me why I was taking pictures of him talking and I told him I was trying out my shutter setting so that I could get great pictures of the planes as they raced by.
Then, as I was taking pictures of Al talking, he looked right over my head (my back was to the races) and said "NO". I turned and noticed that a huge aircraft was unusually close to the grandstands and the box seats. I'm sure it was only seconds, or milliseconds but it seemed as though I watched that airplane maneuver for quite some time. I heard the announcer mention that the "Galloping Ghost" called for a mayday, but I'm not sure if I hear that before Al pointed out the airplane or after. By now, if I heard "mayday" I didn't really even turn my head to look, as it was so common. Whether or not I heard the announcer first or second doesn't matter as my brain was trying to process what was going on, I'm not sure of the order of anything. I remember at one point early on thinking, he is so very close to the stands. I also remember thinking, not even the acrobatic planes ever got that close. I remember thinking or feeling that something was very wrong, especially after Al, a retired military pilot, said "no". Then the plane pulled up, I mean straight up. Almost parallel to the grandstands, then, almost as though it overcorrected, it kept pulling up so hard that it did a "u-turn" in the air and was heading back down, it seemed so slow but it wasn't, this plane was moving close to 500mph, in the fastest race of the day. And then I watch, with no thoughts, with no regard to what was really happening, as the airplane no more than 100 yards away from me, in clear site, smashed into the earth. I don't remember hearing it. I don't remember hearing anything. It crashed. It was silent. But the ground moved under my feet. I shook. It swayed. I felt the plane crash. I saw debree explode off the ground. I saw shrapnel shoot in all directions. I didn't see any sign of an actual visible airplane. I remember thinking (and I'm pretty sure I even said out loud) "that hit our box - THAT HIT OUR BOX"... then my sense of hearing returned and I heard Al shout from behind me, "stay where you are, everybody STAY WHERE YOU ARE." So I freeze, for a moment. I don't dare move. Then I start moving. I'm moving towards our box. I'm not sure if I'm running or walking.
At the time I don't remember this but Jon reminds me later that I called him. I remember calling him before I got to the box, in fact I'm pretty sure I was walking in the direction of our box but I wasn't running. I call him and ask, "hey, how is your day going?", he says it's good but that he is in a hurry to wrap things up so that he can get home by 6:00. I asked him, "did you call Madi Harper (our common babysitter) because she text me today and I think she was meaning to text you." Jon responded that he hadn't talked to Madi but that he would call her. Then I told him, after asking about his day and about Madi, I finally told him, "Jon, I just saw a really bad plane crash, I just witnessed a pilot die". Then Jon told me that it sounded like I was shouting at someone and then the phone went dead, I just hung up on him. Clearly something wasn't working correctly in my brain at this time.
Then I remember running. I ran to the wrong place and I remember thinking to myself, "TC what the crap is wrong with you, you've been here for 3 days, you know how to get to your box, how did you end up in the bleachers, you need to GET A GRIP and get to your box". When I arrived at the scene I couldn't find our box, there were no more boxes. I ran into Arnie and Ryan, I'm not sure if they were with me the entire time or if we happened to meet at the same place in search of the same thing. I dug through some rubble and pulled out one of the box signs, I think it said "Box A-51" so we counted "one, two"... and there it was our box, or what was left of our box.
I call them the "unmovable red coolers" you'll see them in most any picture that there is on the news showing this devastating crash. I saw the coolers, and written on top of the coolers was "Box A-49". There wasn't a single soul in our box. Where was everyone? I stood there staring at images I hesitate to talk about or write about. I saw the landing gear laying in our box from the airplane that just crashed. I saw a few hats that our friends and guests were wearing during the day. I saw the coolers. Then I saw guts (I honestly just sat here for 5 minutes trying to find a better, less brutal word to describe what I saw but there isn't one). I saw the insides of someone. I remember not looking too closely, I remember feeling as though I was being disrespectful if I stood there staring. I also remember Ryan, he was pretty freaked out. He was pointing at our box and at the remains of some poor soul, he was pointing and repeating, "oh my gosh, what is that? oh my gosh, what is that?". Then I felt Arnie's hands grab my shoulders, he grabbed them very tightly. I wonder if it looked as though I was going to fall over or pass out because he was grabbing me in a way that would suggest that if he didn't grab me, and grab me tight, I would fall over. We stood there, for what seemed like a long time. I was on a mission though, I was looking for familiar faces so it didn't really disturb me when I heard a man scream and when I looked in his direction I saw a hole in his chest that was shooting blood into the air, almost like a volcano erupting. I saw people around him, not medics, the medics weren't on the scene yet, these were just regular people ripping their shirts off in hopes of clogging up the hole. But all I remember thinking was "nope" as he was not a face I was searching for. Then I remember, as Ryan was screaming "oh my gosh, oh my gosh" a man, or an officer of some sort saying, "you guys need to get out of here". Then I heard Arnie's voice, he was still holding my shoulders and I was still holding my camera, he had a quiver in his voice, something I had never heard from this man before, and he said, "this is our box and we can't find our friends".
The man told us we could go look on the GREEN tarp for our friends. At the time I didn't really register the word green but as time went on I realized why he directed us to the green tarp and the green tarp only, the red tarp should never have happened. The red tarp should never existed but not only did it exist but it was there, in front of my eyes. I felt like I was in a foreign country. I felt like a bomb had just gone off as everywhere I looked I saw body parts lying there. Hands, legs, feet, fingers, skin, it was the WORST SCENE that I have every witnessed. Still, I was searching for familiar faces.
We lost Ryan, I didn't know where he was but later found out he left the scene. Arnie told me to leave but I wouldn't, in fact, I don't even remember him telling me to leave but he told me he did and I believe him. This was no place for anyone to be, especially woman and children, which is what I remember seeing next. A little boy was yelling, screaming actually, at an officer. He was saying, "no, you can't make me leave, that is my brother, I'm not leaving". This boy was anywhere from 8-10 years old, my Brayden is 8 year old. The boy, as many young children do, turned his back on the officer in his rage and folded his arms almost as though he was pouting. I was standing very close to this boy. I ran over to him and hugged him. I remember being on my knees and feeling his little body fall into mine. I didn't say a single word to him, I just remember hearing my name, "Letice" and gently placing the little boy back on his feet. I stood there and started at him for a split second and he stared back. Then, without knowing what else to do, I rubbed his head and turned and ran toward Arnie.
Throughout this entire search I had my camera in my hand and I was taking pictures in one hand and dialing Jennifer's phone number frantically with my other hand. I'm not sure why I was taking pictures. I feel a little ashamed that I was taking pictures but I was. I was shooting from my hip, I never stopped and put the camera to my eye to view what I was shooting but regardless, I took a lot of pictures, a lot of fuzzy pictures, a lot of pictures of the sky, a lot of my feet, and many very clear, very graphic pictures.
I saw people die that day, I saw red blankets over dead bodies, there were at lease two fatality in Box A-48, of which I have pictures of both bodies, both people I recognize as our "box neighbors" and even conversed with, and at least one fatality in Box A-50.
Where were my friends? I ran back to our box with Arnie and looked once more. There were the hats I saw earlier and then I noticed my hoodie. The site of my hoodie brought me out of my fog for a moment and I realized how real this all was. My hoodie kept me warm that morning and I later took my hoodie off because it was too hot placing it on the back of my chair. And yet, here it was, my own eyes witnessed as someone had placed my hoodie over someone less fortunate or less lucky than I was that day. My heart started to ache. It was an overflow of pain. Pain for the people surrounding me with red blankets over them, red meaning gone. Pain for the little boy who was yelling for his brother, pain for the lady in the brown dress that didn't like to sit so she stood behind her box (box A-48) most of the time visiting with all her neighbors, there she was, in her cute summer brown dress, gone... dead. My heart started beating pretty fast and the tears started forming when I heard Arnie yell my name again. He found them... nope, he got a hold of them on the phone. I was running towards him as he waited for me, then we ran together out of the arena and then I saw Jen. She was already running towards me, I don't know if I have ever ran faster in my life. I grabbed her and she threw her arms around me. I said, "Jen..." but she cut me off as though reading my mind and said, "everyone survived, everyone is alive Letice, everyone is alive from our group." I cried. I cried and cried and cried. I couldn't breath because I was crying so much.
I think that's all I will share for now. Maybe I'll finish the details in another blog. Good night for now.
