Hal Wingard song recalls San Diego air tragedy

SAN DIEGO (SDJW) — This city has been commemorating the 40th anniversary of the midair collision between a private plane and a Pacific Southwest Airlines flight on Sept. 25, 1978 that resulted in the deaths of 142 people in the air and on the ground.  The late Hal Wingard, husband of our music reviewer Eileen Wingard, was moved to write and perform this song, which you may hear by clicking here.

The lyrics:

THE SAN DIEGO AIR DISASTER
9:01 Monday Morning, September 25, 1975

Oh, what could they do?
What could they do–
The fated who flew
Flight 182?
What could they do?
What could they do,
The fated who flew
Flight 182?

San Diego city yawns
As morning sun moves high
Another day has just begun
Beneath a cloudless sky.
The city’s folk run here and there
In daily task and chore,
Little knowing what the fates
This morning hold in store.

Meanwhile, north a hundred miles
Where urban angels dwell,
Autos crowd the city streets
And fight the freeway swell.
Blocked behind a snail of cars
A family of three
Worries how they’ll ever get
To where they want to be.

Oh, what could they do?
What could they do–
The fated who flew
Fllght 182?
What could they do?
What could they do,
The fated who flew
Flight 182?

They’re heading for the airport jam;
Already they are late.
They know that there’s no way to hold
An airplane at the gate.
Then little Jimmie–three years old–
Begins to fret and whine,
While mom and dad assure the child
That all will soon be fine.

They tell him how much fun he’ll have
At San Diego’s zoo,
And “grandma’s sure to bake a cake
And trays of cookies, too.”
With such sweet thoughts at last they reach
The airport’s auto park,
They dash to flight 182,
And out of breath embark.

Oh, what could they do?
What could they do–
The fated who flew
Fllght 182?
What could they do?
What could they do,
The fated who flew
Flight 182?

The door is closed; they take their seats;
And mother sighs to dad:
“Henry, that’s the closest call
That ever we have had.
You know that it is just by chance
That we have caught this plane,
To rush our life the way we have
Has got to be insane.”

San Diego city yawns
As morning sun moves high
Another day has just begun
Beneath a cloudless sky.
The city’s folk run here and there
In daily task and chore,
Little knowing what the fates
This morning hold in store.

Oh, what could they do?
What could they do–
The fated who flew
Flght 182?
What could they do?
What could they do,
The fated who flew
Flight 182?

— Hal Wingard, November 3, 1978