I remember it well, my cousin, Darlene Watkins was killed when PSA 182 crashed into her home.

--Paula Bicket

I was in 2nd grade, attending school at Foster Elementary in Allied Gardens. We were lining up to go to class, when a teacher for the first-graders screamed "Oh no!" and pointed. We all looked over to see a little fireball plummet to the ground. After a second we saw flames and smoke. My father was a cop with SDPD, and he had to go assist with rescue and recovery. He still won't talk about what he saw back then.

--Jenn

I was dating someone on the PSA plane. There are no words to express my sadness and grief for all the victims and families of this tragic, senseless, accident. Passengers trust their lives at the hands of pilots; how could the PSA crew have been so careless as to "assume" they had already passed the small plane. The visuals on T.V. of the aircraft engulfed in flames heading towards its cruel, violent end will never be erased from my memory.

--Sheri

I remember I was nine years old, and I was sitting in my forth grade class at John Addams Elamentry School. All of a sudden we heard a loud noise outside. Naturally we turned around to see what had made the noise, and were horrified to see a plane on fire falling out of the sky. Some kids ran under there desk crying, and scared. Others, myself included, stayed glued to the seen in the sky until our teacher shooed us back into our seats. She told us that we would be safe, and to remain calm. Nobody would be going home unless specificly told to do so by the office. It was not until later that I learned my grandmothers house had been hit by part of the falling plane. Her house was on Boundry St. and she had just returned to her bedroom when she heard a loud noise.( the 2 planes colliding) Scared, she grabbed her bag of importent papers, and a pillow that she covered her head with and ran out of the room. As she ran out she felt the ground shake like an earthquake was hitting. Then the wall of her bedroom explode as one of the planes wings crashed into her house. She ran for the back door and the outside, but there was a horror she would never forget. The site and smell were more then you could stand, the fruit on her trees sizzled from intense heat. Everywhere she looked there was devistation, fire, plane wreckage, pieces/parts of human remains. Houses belonging to people she had known for years were gone or on fire. People were running around looking for survivers, and trying to put out the flames. All she could hear was the roar of the fires, and the cries and screams of her neighbors. Even though her house was amid the hell that North Park had become, she refused to leave. And although damaged her house was the only one that still had a working phone, so police and fire crews used it as a base. She remained at her home until her death just days from shy of the 8 yr anniversary of the crash.

--Neicesqua

I was in bed sick on that morning. I heard the collision in the air, then a loud crackling sound. My bedroom window was shaking really bad! I knew it was a plane but I never expected it to be a PSA. Then the explousion! I ran to my phone looking out my window in that direction(I lived just 4 blocks away) I was calling my mom, no answer. Then it hit me, I was looking straight toward her house! I grabbed my one year old and ran out the door, leaving it wide open! I ran down the street ans was stopped on boundary, fear of the gas lines, a man was telling me not to get any closer with my baby. I stood there helpless, my mom lived on Nile street. For hours I could not get through, my husband came home as soon as he heard the news. We went through back yards and over fences trying to get through, but each time I was told by police that we could not get any closer. After three hours I got the news that my mom was okay! THANK GOD! She was heading to her neighbors but forgot her cigaret lighter and went back to her house. My mom lived behind the first house that was hit, the plane actually came over her house and clipped the house on nile !( my mom lived in the rear house) Then it went a down DwightSt. She would of been right at that intersection had she not gone back to get her lighter! It was a horrible memory for all of us! I will never forget the house on the corner where a mother and children were killed, there was NOTHING LEFT THERE! Just days before I had seen a child playing in the front yard. I must admit my heart goes out to all the families who lost loved ones, but I will NEVER forget the image of that child playing or the image of THAT HOUSE BEING COMPLETELY GONE! My mom's house was in the picture of the plane on fire. I still can't believe it! As awful as it was I know it could of been a lot worse if the plane did not go straight down.

--Cindy

I was about to turn three years old in a month when this happened and even though I lived in Kansas this still hit home. My uncle Mike worked for PSA and would commute back and forth, unfortunately this accident is something that is not discussed in my family so until a year ago I never really knew what happend on that horrible day when I lost my uncle.

--Jennifer

I grew up in North Park. September 25, 1978, is a day that I will never forget. It was a hot santa ana day. I was in Wilson Jr. High School, second period English class, a few of us were on our way to Central Elementary School, to tutor, when we saw the planes collide. We just stood there, not knowing what to do. We ran back to school, everyone was talking about the crash, we heard on the radio, the plane went down in North Park. All of us lived in North Park, we ran to the nearest pay phone to call home, the phone lines were down, we just ran down University Avenue we got as far as Wabash Avenue, when police officers stopped us. We found out where the actual crash was, my friend and I lived on Boundary Street. The wreckage missed her house, by one house. I lived further down Boundary Street, and fortunately, my family was alright. This neighborhood had been ripped to shreds. Not only by the shock of this disaster, but shock of people trying to come into the neighborhood to take a look, loitter, take debris from the site, as some type of momento. For months, and years after the crash, people would stop and ask exactly where the plane had crashed. To this day, I will always remember flight PSA 182, and September 25, 1978.

--Anonymous