I had more trouble in trying to locate the Patsy Cline plane crash site than any other of the offbeat places I seek out around the country. For miles up and down this country road we went. I stopped and asked a Methodist pastor opening up his church if I was on the right road. After a moment of thought he said yes, but it was several miles away on the other side of the junction. Then his wife tried to get me to stay and join them in Sunday services. I thanked her for the invite but said I'll have my service with Patsy this morning. In the end, the sign was small and only visible from one direction of travel.
Now before you get the wrong idea about me, I do not have this morbid sense of fascination with entertainers dying in plane crashes. Buddy Holly and company, Ricky Nelson and his band, now Patsy Cline. These places are just there. I cannot help it entertainers insist on flying in questionable aircraft during crappy weather.
Here someone left their own personal memorial.
It was a nicely prepared site, parking off to the left and follow the gravel trail down into a small very peaceful and quiet valley.
A display of news clippings about that fateful evening.
The wikipedia site gives a good account of that final flight. She was only 30 years old, at the height of her fame and felt an impending sense of doom telling friends she didn't expect to live much longer.
The exact spot the plane nose dived into the ground.
It must have been a task getting this boulder down the ravine and set into place.
Randy Hughes was the pilot and really had no business flying this plane as the account shows.
I like her music and ought to get a "Best of" CD.