A business jet smashed into a San Diego military housing neighborhood, leaving a trail of destruction and death in its wake, as CNN reports.
Just before 4 a.m. on Thursday, a Cessna 550 Citation, typically used for corporate jaunts, crashed near Montgomery Executive Airport, killing multiple passengers and torching homes and cars. The National Transportation Safety Board and Federal Aviation Administration are digging into what caused the disaster. Foggy conditions and low visibility likely played a role, but don’t expect bureaucrats to admit if red tape or lax oversight contributed.
The jet, owned by an Alaskan company, took off from Teterboro Airport near New York City late Wednesday night. It made a pit stop in Wichita, Kansas, before barreling toward San Diego. No emergency was declared, and the pilot calmly reported being three miles from landing, blissfully unaware of the chaos to come.
The crash site, part of Naval Base San Diego’s sprawling military housing, felt like a war zone. A resident described a “loud boom” shaking their home, with car alarms blaring and jet fuel igniting the street. Progressives might call it “climate justice” when fossil fuels fight back, but for real people, it was pure terror.
“I can’t describe what this scene looked like,” said San Diego Police Chief Scott Wahl, painting a picture of jet fuel rivers and roaring flames. His horror is relatable, but let’s not pretend that government agencies, always quick to regulate our lives, couldn’t have tightened airport safety protocols. Actions, or lack thereof, have consequences.
First responders battled the inferno while residents heroically helped evacuate neighbors. One home was gutted, its roof collapsed onto a car below, and upwards of 10 homes were damaged. Military families, already sacrificing for the nation, now face the task of rebuilding their lives.
“You could barely see in front of you,” said San Diego Fire Assistant Chief Dan Eddy, blaming the fog as a possible contributing factor in the incident. Visibility was down to half a mile with low cloud ceilings, a recipe for disaster when paired with an unstaffed control tower. Maybe it’s time to rethink overnight airport operations instead of pushing diversity quotas.
Jet fuel spilled like a Hollywood explosion scene, torching every car in its path. Eddy noted the widespread destruction, saying, “it took out every single car” as fuel flowed down the street. The environmentalist crowd might lecture about oil, but they’re silent when it’s their policies grounding safety upgrades.
One person was hospitalized as a result of the crash, and two others were treated and released, a small mercy amid the carnage. All fatalities were on the plane, though the exact body count remains unclear. The Citation, built in 1985, could carry eight to ten people, so brace for grim updates.
Residents didn’t wait for bureaucrats to save the day; they knocked on doors alongside police to get neighbors out. This is the kind of gritty, no-nonsense community spirit the woke elite can’t comprehend. Naval Base San Diego’s Captain Robert Heely called the impacted families “proud partners,” but platitudes won’t fix their homes.
“Certainly, we have a lot of military families that are impacted,” Heely said, stating the obvious. Military communities are the backbone of places like San Diego, yet they’re often ignored until tragedy strikes. Maybe now politicians will notice, but don’t hold your breath.
San Diego Mayor Todd Gloria promised support, saying the city will back the military community “for as long as it takes.” Nice words, but taxpayers know that government promises often vanish faster than budget surpluses. Real recovery will come from neighbors, not City Hall.
The NTSB and FAA are on the case, but don’t expect quick answers. The pilot used the common traffic advisory frequency to announce intentions, standard for an unstaffed tower, yet something went catastrophically wrong. Regulatory loopholes and outdated systems deserve a hard look, not just the prevailing weather conditions.
The jet’s Alaskan owners will face scrutiny, as will the Citation’s maintenance history. A 40-year-old plane might be reliable, but age raises questions that the feds had better answer. Transparency, not bureaucratic cover-ups, is what victims’ families deserve.
This tragedy reminds us that safety isn’t guaranteed, no matter how routine a flight seems. Military families, already dealing with enough, now face a long road to back to normality. San Diego’s spirit will pull through, but it’s high time regulators stop flying blind.
