The Day of Loss: A Plane, 10 Lives and Nearly The Future of a Racing Empire

In Concord, N.C., just down the appropriately named Papa Joe Hendrick Blvd., sits the sprawling facility of Hendrick Motorsports. The entire complex is a testament to all that Rick Hendrick has achieved in NASCAR.

Featured prominently between the primary buildings that house the four HMS NASCAR Cup Series teams is a large fountain. In it, 10 streams of water combine into one. Each of those streams simultaneously represent both accomplishment and unachieved potential.

Sunday, Oct. 24, 2004, was cloudy, gray and maybe a bit forlorn even without the tragedy that would eventually unfold. The Cup Series was at Martinsville Speedway for the Subway 500, the 32nd race of the season.

The playoffs were winding down but Jimmie Johnson was heating up. Johnson had won the prior week at Charlotte Motor Speedway and was focused on narrowing the gap between him and championship leader Kurt Busch. The green flag waved shortly after 12:30 p.m. ET.

Around this same time, about 125 miles southwest of Martinsville, a Hendrick-owned Beechcraft Super King Air 200 took off from Concord Regional Airport. On board were 10 people who served a variety of roles in the organization. The plane intended to land at Blue Ridge Airport in Martinsville, allowing the occupants to reach the track around the conclusion of the race.

Back at the half-mile oval, Johnson closed out his second consecutive win as he held off Rusty Wallace during a late restart to pick up his first career short track triumph. On the television broadcast, Johnson parked with his bumper against the pit wall as he unleashed a massive burnout. Suddenly, the burnout stopped and with no additional fanfare, the No. 48 slowly trudged back around to pit road.

Then the broadcast cut to NBC pit reporter Bill Weber, who stood with NASCAR VP of Corporate Communication Jim Hunter. Hunter explained that there would be no victory lane celebrations, as the FAA had informed NASCAR that a Hendrick plane en route to Martinsville had been “lost”.

In aviation lingo, “lost” is a troubling expression. It describes an aircraft that disappeared from radar and is unaccounted for. It’s a situation that almost never ends well. The plane had crashed but authorities just hadn’t found it yet. Neither Hunter nor NBC could provide any information about who was on board the aircraft. But NASCAR leaders knew who was on it. When Johnson, Jeff Gordon, Terry Labonte and Brian Vickers, the team’s drivers, had been assembled in private, NASCAR informed them of what happened and to whom.

Some of the names were instantly recognizable to the common fan, such as Ricky Hendrick, John Hendrick and Randy Dorton. Others I recognized as names I had heard mentioned before, like Jeff Turner, Jennifer and Kimberly Hendrick. The final four, Scott Lathram, Joe Jackson, Elizabeth Morrison and Richard Tracy, were introduced to me by being among the casualties.

Over the next few days, authorities released more information about what happened. In the dense fog, the plane had made an attempt to land but missed the runway. The pilots then attempted to circle around Bull Mountain for a second attempt but made what is known as a controlled flight into terrain. The pilots simply miscalculated their position in relation to the ground and flew directly into it. At no point was the plane out of control, and the occupants likely had no indication that anything was amiss.

Any loss of life is tragic on a personal level, but this had a massive impact on HMS as an organization. John Hendrick had essentially run the team while Rick Hendrick was sidelined with both legal and medical issues during the 1997 season. Dorton was the chief engine builder and the architect behind some of the most dominant power plants in recent history.

But it was undoubtedly Ricky Hendrick that left the biggest void in the minds of many fans. As Rick’s only son, he was the heir apparent, the man who would one day run the team when his father decided to step away from day-to-day operations. He had tried to be a successful driver, but injuries had stolen that opportunity from him. Now, just as he was starting on a new path, that too was so unjustly snatched away.

Instead, that role has seemingly fallen on former HMS star driver Gordon. Gordon, who finished ninth on that fateful day, is currently in the position that had been intended for Ricky.

It’s hard to say what would be different today had the plane landed and the passengers scurried off to Martinsville unharmed. Perhaps Gordon would’ve started his own team, maybe even associated with Hendrick.

Would Ricky have wanted to hire the same drivers and choose not to retain others just as his father had? Maybe Vickers or Kyle Busch stay at HMS because of him. Would the current Hendrick foursome be the same? Kyle Larson took the helm of the No. 5 car that so often features the same blue-and-white livery that once adorned machines wheeled by Ricky himself. Surely Ricky would have appreciated that.

We wonder these things because we know how the sport was robbed of the chance to see how it all would have turned out. Sadly, it’s impossible to know for sure.

Those answers are lost, just like a plane that circled Bull Mountain 20 years ago.

Frank Velat

Frank Velat has been an avid follower of NASCAR and other motorsports for over 20 years. He brings a blend of passionate fan and objective author to his work. Frank offers unique perspectives that everyone can relate to, remembering the sport's past all the while embracing its future. Follow along with @FrankVelat on Twitter.