Honky Tonk Angel (47 page)

Randy kept in contact with weather stations as he traveled across Missouri and down into Arkansas, following a storm front all the way. When conditions got bad, he’d find an airstrip, land, wait for the front to get sufficiently ahead of him, then go on. At Little Rock there was rain and sleet. Randy called Kathy to let her know they were leaving there and would make a final stop in Dyersburg, just across
the Mississippi River in Tennessee to refuel. He landed at the Dyersburg Avionics strip at 5:05, only slightly behind schedule. Randy reported his afternoon-long adventure to the manager, Bill Braese.

“The news I have for you isn’t much better,” Braese told him. “We’ve had thunderstorms off and on all day. There’s flooding in some parts. We’re getting all this precipitation because of a front hanging over Kentucky Lake and the Tennessee River.”

“I been across there a hundred times,” Randy said.

“You’ll have that storm right on your path. Get on the horn to the Atlanta weather bureau for an update while I refuel the plane.”

The weather in the area was described as “extremely turbulent.” According to the Federal Aviation Authority, at least one commercial liner saw fit to change course. The information did not deter Randy.

Mrs. Braese remarked that everyone appeared exhausted but, even under the circumstances, were nice and friendly. In the Dyersburg Airport coffee shop several locals, stopping by for supper, were stunned to find three Opry favorites. No one could remember when there’d been that many stars in town at one time. The trio was asked for autographs on napkins, even on a matchbook cover.

“How much further?” Hawkins inquired as Randy entered.

“I need to discuss the weather with y’all. I don’t know if we should chance the flight.”

Just before 6:00, Randy called Kathy. “Hey, honey,” he told her, “check and see if it’s raining there.” She said it wasn’t. Kathy told him that a beloved musician had died. “The family’s asking if Dad can be a pallbearer tomorrow.” Randy assured her they’d be home in “no time flat.” He asked Kathy to call Cornelia Field so they’d turn on the runway lights.

When Randy hung up, he told Braese, “Everything’s going to be all right. You can see the moon and stars in Nashville. It’s clear.”

Braese took Hughes outside as the sun was setting. “Look to the east. See those dark clouds? Your wife’s seeing the eye of the storm. You’re going to be fighting high winds. Are you instrument-rated?”

“No.”

“Figured that, since you leap-frogged all the way. You shouldn’t attempt it in this weather. Take my car or stay the night Got a nice motel nearby.”

“Hell, I’ve already come this far. It’s only another ninety miles. We’ll be there before you know it.”

“You’re taking a chance. I’ll bring your plane down tomorrow and pick up the car.”

“That’s nice of you, but we’re going on.”

“How long will it take in the car?” Patsy wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Hawkins said.

“I’m going to take care,” Randy replied. “If I can’t handle the situation, I’ll turn around.”

“The car’ll be waiting,” Braese told him.

Randy signed the receipt for the gasoline and put his copy in his money bag. There was enough fuel to stay in the air three and a half hours. They taxied off at 6:07 P.M.

Braese was so certain they’d return, he had his wife call a motel and book three rooms. About an hour later, he told her, “They didn’t come back. They must have made it.”

Randy had no flight plan. He charted his course east toward and across Highways 51 and 45, past Huntington, Bruceton on the Tennessee River, then slightly northeast to Waverly, and on over Nashville to Madison. The winds were high and probably slowed their time considerably. Time was of the essence. It was getting darker and darker. Near Bruceton and the farming region of Camden, some eighty-five miles west of Nashville, he ran into dense clouds over the river and south of Kentucky Lake. Heavy rain rocked the plane. Witnesses reported seeing a plane turning one direction, then another; flying low, then higher. Randy was either trying to find his way back across the river or scouting for a landing spot in a field. There was a twisting rural road amid the woods of these northeastern Tennessee hills, but it was too narrow.

He searched for a highway. Clouds engulfed the plane, but the rain finally stopped. Suddenly, from nowhere, a fire-prevention lookout tower loomed through the cover at the top of a hill. All indications point to the fact that Randy spotted a possible site and was attempting to land.

Sam Webb, whose farm was located nearby, saw a plane circling his home a few minutes before seven. “It was revving up its motor,” he recollected, “going fast and then slow, like it was attempting to climb. then I couldn’t see it anymore. But I heard these loud thumping noises, then nothing.”

As he made his ascent, it’s assumed by aviation experts that Randy flew right into a dense cloud. Amid mounting panic from Patsy, Copas, and Hawkins, he undoubtedly became confused, then disoriented. Randy didn’t know if he was flying level, upward, or downward. Not trained to read the instrument panel, he desperately tried to make some sense of the numbers and letters in the near-dark.

Trees began coming at them. Randy frantically worked the wheel, left, right; left, right; left, right. The plane swerved violently. The Comanche propeller tore into the trees and sawed off their tops in such a way it’s all but certain the plane was flying upside-down. The thick, hard branches grabbed at the tiny craft, tearing gaping holes. One wing and then another was ripped off. The remnants of the plane and its tightly packed passengers and contents bounced and skidded the tree line.

There was no way out. Finally, the plane dove straight into the ground.

The major road Randy was looking for, Highway 70, lay not quite one mile away.

There were no survivors.

When Kathy Hughes hung the phone up after speaking to Randy at Dyersburg, she alerted Charlie and Jean Shepard that the plane was on the way. Then the phone rang.

It was Billy Walker. “I’m really worried about Randy,” he told Kathy. “They were supposed to leave yesterday, and they’re still not back. Have you heard anything?”

“He just called, Billy. They only just left today and were refueling in Dyersburg. They’ll be leaving any minute.”

“Thank God. I didn’t know what to think.”

“I’m on the way to Cornelia Field right now to have them turn on the runway lights.”

“Okay. tell ’em I’m happy everything worked out and they made it back safe and sound.”

“Thanks, Billy.”

Kathy and her mother, Lucille, went to the field about seven and asked to have the lights on. “We sat in the car and waited and waited. It shouldn’t have taken Randy more than forty-five minutes to get home. We began to suspect something had gone wrong. We asked the attendant if he’d heard anything. There was no word. Then something snapped in me. I knew immediately something had, indeed, gone wrong. The attendant suggested it might be better if we went home and waited for further news or in case someone was trying to reach us. All we could think of was that Randy might have turned back. Everything but the most obvious thing ran through my mind.

“We came home and turned the radio on. A little after eight, there was a report that the plane was missing. Another said the plane had gone down. The phone started ringing at about eight-fifteen, and it never stopped. Then friends started to come over.”

Grant Turner went on WSM: “It pains me greatly to announce that a plane bearing Patsy Cline, Hawkshaw Hawkins, and Cowboy Copas is late arriving at Cornelia Fort Air Park en route from Dyersburg. At this point, the plane is presumed missing. Stay tuned for further bulletins.”

Charlie was getting ready to leave to pick up Patsy. “I was playing with the kids. Around seven-thirty, when no one called from the airport to say Randy and the gang had landed, I got worried. I made a couple of calls. Nothing. Then some friends came over around eight They’d heard the news on the radio.”

“An hour after Kathy’s call,” Jean said, “I took my baby, Don Robin, and put him in the kitchen sink to give him a bath before bed. I was eight months pregnant, so the sink allowed me to stand up. A little after seven this weird, completely weak feeling came over me for about ten minutes. I was afraid to move away from the sink, because I thought I was going to faint. Don was splashing water, but I kept bathing him. My first thought was, ‘Oh, my God, the baby!’ I froze and held onto the edge of the sink. Then I said out loud, ‘No, Jean, the baby’s not due for another month. What’s the matter with you?’

“A cold sweat broke over me, then it passed, and I said, ‘Oh, Hawk, get home pretty soon!’ When he wasn’t home by nine, I began to get upset.”

At 9:10 the phone rang again at the Hughes home. It was the Civil Aeronautics Board office. Randy’s departure from Dyersburg had been confirmed from the gasoline receipts. The officer asked who was on board and wanted to confirm the plane’s identification number. The CAB was planning to broadcast a search query over the radio to see if Randy responded. Kathy remarked, “After that, I was never contacted by any official spokesperson.”

“When it got to be ten,” Jean said, “I told myself, for the safety of the baby and my health, I’d better get to bed. I wasn’t overly concerned, because Kathy had
told me if the weather got bad Randy might turn back to Dyersburg. I was nervous but not upset. I laid in bed and thought, ‘Well, maybe they did go back.’ Then I fell asleep.

“I woke to the phone ringing. I got out of bed slowly to answer it I looked at the clock. It was eleven. It was Eileen, one of Hawk’s fans from Minneapolis who’d become a friend. I was still half asleep. ‘What are you doing, Jean?’ she asked. I was a bit upset at being woke up. I replied, ‘My God, I’m doing what every sensible person would be doing at eleven o’clock at night. I was sleeping.’ She asked, ‘Are you in bed?’ I told her I was. She wanted to know if I had the radio on. I answered I didn’t. Then there was silence. I heard her starting to cry. Eileen said, ‘Oh, my God, Jean!’ That’s when I knew. 1 knew what was wrong. I knew the plane was down.

“Eileen was so upset I couldn’t get her off the phone. I finally said, ‘Hon, I’m by myself. I’ve got to call somebody. Let me get off.’ I stayed pretty cool for about an hour. I called Smiley and Kitty Wilson, two of our closest friends in the business, who’d once played and sang for Ferlin Husky. Their line was busy. When I got them, they’d heard from Kathy and were trying to call me. They came right over. It was an all-night vigil. No authorities phoned or came to the house to say, ‘Your husband is missing.’ It was a nightmare. It was hell!”

The Wilsons called Jean’s doctor. He informed them he was on his way. Governor Frank Clement sent a highway patrol car to the houses of each of the families and stationed it there through the night.

Jean explained, “A woman I didn’t know walked into the house before the patrolman arrived and started asking me questions. People were milling around the house, and I was in a daze. My doctor finally had to sedate me. He asked the patrolman to stand duty outside my door and not let anyone disturb me. Minnie Pearl and her husband came as soon as they heard. They asked to see me. The patrolman knocked on my door and said, ‘Ma’am, I don’t know what to do. Minnie Pearl’s here to see you. Should I let her in?’

“The doctor was monitoring the baby’s heartbeat every half-hour. I asked if it would be all right to see Minnie and Henry, and he said yes. She was pretty broken up. Hawk was one of her dearest friends. It was like that all night.”

On Nella Drive, Charlie was awaiting word and jumped each time the phone rang. Julie and Randy kept asking him where their mother was. “Is Mommy coming home tonight?” Julie asked. “She promised me she’d be here. When’s she coming?”

Charlie asserted it was a tough situation. “I hadn’t given up hope, and I didn’t want to burden them. They wouldn’t have even understood. I didn’t want to lie, either. I didn’t know what to say.”

MARCH 6

It was just past midnight that Wednesday morning. Jan Howard was sound asleep. The phone woke her.

“Jan,”