The mid-air collision of a small private plane and a Pacific Southwest Airlines (PSA) jetliner in the skies above North Park September morning in 1978 shattered San Diego like no single incident has before or since. Wars, terrorist attacks and political assassinations have had a far greater impact on the country as a whole, but this was a decidedly San Diego calamity that is seared into the collective memory of all above a certain age who lived here in those days.
The accident was a stark reminder that, while we have one of the great scenic airports in the world, that beauty comes with a risk. Planes landing from the east, as virtually all planes do, pass within a few dozen yards of buildings and busy streets before touching down at Lindbergh Field. The accident was a grim reminder that at this location there is no room for error. In the aftermath of the crash, whether you lived somewhere along the flight path of arriving or departing jets or were a passenger on a plane yourself, you began to view the experience through a different lens. And if you were a reporter or first responder working the crash site that day, you were scarred by grisly images you would take with you to your grave.
Beyond the fact that the jet blasted into a North Park neighborhood like a bomb, this tragedy involved a San Diego based company and many of its employees lived among us as neighbors. PSA enjoyed an excellent reputation, being known for good service and friendly staff. The company motto was “Catch Our Smile,” and its planes had smiles painted on their noses. Fares were cheap, passengers received complimentary drinks and snacks from cheerful and fashionably attired flight attendants, your bags rode free, you had decent legroom and if your seatmate was packing on some extra pounds it was not also your problem.
