New theories have refocused attention on the 1956 tragic midair collision over the Grand Canyon that forever changed commercial aviation.
The night of June 30, 1956, is one that Arizona state historian Marshall Trimble will never forget. “I had taken my girlfriend, Sharon, to a movie that night, and we were driving to Bob’s Big Boy on Central and Thomas to hang out with friends when the news of the missing airliners came on the radio,” the 86-year-old says. “We pulled off to the side of the road to listen and learned that the two passenger planes that had vanished that morning had crashed into the Grand Canyon. All the precious lives that were lost in such a horrible way, one couldn’t help but be affected by it. At least, I was.”
With 128 deaths, the accident was the nation’s worst-ever aviation disaster and helped transform how U.S. airspace is regulated – a system that faces renewed scrutiny in 2025 after last winter’s string of airplane mishaps and the depleted and demoralized state of the Federal Aviation Administration. The Grand Canyon accident underscores the fatal consequences of miscalculation and miscommunication – especially today, with more planes in the air flying faster and farther than
ever before.
The mid-1950s marked a golden age for airline travel, with many passengers soaring through the skies for the first time. Flying was regarded as a safe and luxurious mode of travel, as stylishly dressed travelers relaxed in spacious seats, puffed on cigarettes and savored hot meals even on short regional flights. Pilots promoted air travel by inviting passengers into the cockpit and routing flights over picturesque landscapes.
That was the case when two state-of-the-art piston-engine airliners flown by experienced pilots took off from Los Angeles International Airport on June 30, 1956. The first was a Kansas City-bound Lockheed L-1049 Super Constellation operated by Trans World Airways with Captain Jack Gandy in the cockpit, flying the route for the 178th time. Three minutes later, a faster United Airlines Douglas DC-7 piloted by veteran Captain Robert Shirley departed for Chicago.
Each flight deviated from its standard route, taking more direct paths to the Grand Canyon. “Both pilots chose this narrow and lengthy bit of rough airspace… strictly for the view into Grand Canyon,” according to Michael P. Ghiglieri and Thomas M. Myers’s book Over the Edge: Death in Grand Canyon. “Hence, these flights became, in their way, scenic flights.”
Separated by a mere 2,000 feet of vertical distance, the planes would fatally intersect over the famous landmark.
The initial indication that something was amiss came when both airplanes failed a radio check-in at a waypoint east of the Grand Canyon. Unanswered calls led to a widespread search and a report of smoke, which sadly solved the mystery.
“The TWA crashed into the Grand Canyon, and about a mile away, the United smashed off the south face of Chuar Butte in a remote area near the confluence of the Colorado and Little Colorado rivers,” Trimble says. “Of course, there were no survivors, and the recovery of the bodies was difficult.”
At the time, there were no black boxes to help determine why the planes fell from the sky. In one of the nation’s first comprehensive accident investigations, a crucial clue emerged in the Super Constellation’s tail: It clearly separated from the fuselage before it hit the ground, given its distance from the main crash site. Ditto for a wingtip from the DC-7, indicating that it had severed the other airliner’s tail.
The airplanes had been on a collision course almost from takeoff. Los Angeles Air Traffic Control had granted Gandy’s midflight request to rise 1,000 feet above cloud cover in his Super Constellation to avoid turbulence. The approval came with a warning about the United flight overtaking him at that altitude and to keep visual separation. It was long thought that partly cloudy skies contributed to the collision and that the last message heard was from Shirley radioing, “We’re going in…”
However, Mike Nelson, whose uncle perished in the accident, disputes the weather explanation in his 2017 book, We Are Going In: The Story of the 1956 Grand Canyon Midair Collision. “Contrary to long-promulgated ‘history,’ Captain Gandy wanted to ascend to fly faster,” Nelson says. “There were no clouds or turbulence near him when he asked to ascend and none for 200 miles ahead. He was 25 minutes behind schedule and wanted to make up as much time as possible.”
Nelson adds that he believes Shirley was not in the DC-7’s cockpit during the collision and that his first officer, Robert Harms, was flying the plane from his seat on the right. “Harms was turning right, which took his attention off the sky to his left, from where Gandy’s plane was approaching,” Nelson says. “Why Gandy and his first officer, James Ritner, failed to see the DC-7 until it was too late remains a mystery.”
No individual was blamed for the accident, as correct procedures were followed, but maintaining visual separation was challenging even in the best conditions. The tragedy contributed to the creation of the Federal Aviation Administration two years later to improve air traffic control and make flying safer.
The crash sites were designated as a National Historic Landmark – the first such landmark commemorating an airborne event – in 2014 during a ceremony attended by family members of those who died in the disaster. “There was an immediate kinship among the group, who later formed the Patrons of the 1956 Grand Canyon Midair Collision,” says Thomas Sulpizio, president of the Grand Canyon Historical Society, whose father was aboard the DC-7. “The midair collision should never be forgotten and is an important event in the history of both the Grand Canyon and commercial aviation.”
More Deadly Arizona Flights
1986
Twenty-five people died when a De Havilland Canada DHC-6 Twin Otter aircraft’s landing gear struck the rotor of a Helitech Bell 206 helicopter, causing both to crash in Grand Canyon National Park. An investigation found the sightseeing flights were in each other’s blind spots and failed to “see and avoid” one another. The FAA revised regulations on tourist flights over the Grand Canyon. It was the deadliest domestic helicopter accident until 68 died in a collision over Washington, D.C., in January 2025.
1982
Six people died when a KC-135A from the Arizona Air National Guard’s 161st Air Refueling Wing based at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport attempted a touch-and-go landing at Luke Air Force Base. As the KC-135A descended from the clouds, a private plane collided with the tanker’s fuselage, and both crashed near the Arizona State Prison Complex – Perryville. An investigation determined that the civilian pilot failed to follow Visual Flight Rules procedures. A memorial featuring the tail fin of a similar KC-135 honors the dead at Sky Harbor’s Goldwater Air National Guard Base.
1959
Five servicemen lost their lives when a U.S. Navy C-121G Super Constellation crashed for unknown reasons near Prescott Municipal Airport. The tragedy received renewed attention in 2009 after the city of Prescott acquired land encompassing the accident site to develop a recreational area. A land survey to plan the Constellation Trail uncovered aluminum linked to the crash. A memorial is located near the trailhead.
