Death Wish

In terse, flat language, a Civil Aero nautics Board investigative report last week laid down its chilling conclusion: "The total evidence clearly indicates that the captain and first officer of Flight 773 were shot by a passenger. As a result, the uncontrolled aircraft began the descent which ended in impact with the hill."

Forty-one passengers and a crew of three, on Pacific Air Lines Flight 773 bound from Reno to San Francisco, had died in a pyre of flaming gasoline on the morning of last May 7, when the plane plunged into a hill near San Ramon, Calif. Amid the wreckage, investigators found a .357 Smith & Wesson Magnum revolver containing six empty cartridges. Soon they learned that the weapon had been purchased in San Francisco the night before by Francisco Paula Gonzales, 27, a San Francisco warehouse man long besieged by marital and financial problems.

Naming the Dates. As they dug deeper into the warped world of Frank Gonzales, investigators discovered that he had been bent on suicide and had broadcast the fact far and wide. "Mr. Gonzales had advised both friends and relatives that he would die on either Wednesday, the 6th of May, or Thursday, the 7th of May," said the CAB report. "He referred to his impending death on a daily basis throughout the week preceding the accident."

They learned that when he left San Francisco for Reno the evening of May 6, he was carrying the revolver and that he had purchased $105,000 worth of insurance at the airport. They learned that during his night of gambling after he reached Reno, he had told a casino employee that he didn't care how much he lost because "it won't make any difference after tomorrow."

When Flight 773 took off from Reno at 5:54 the next morning, Gonzales was aboard. During the flight, Pilot Ernest A. Clark, 52, and Copilot Ray E. Andress, 31, radioed reports of routine conditions. They landed on schedule at Stockton, Calif., took off again at 6:38 a.m. after two passengers had deplaned and ten had come aboard to finish the trip to San Francisco. For ten minutes out of Stockton, all went normally. Then, reports the CAB, "at 06:48:15, a high-pitched message was heard and recorded on the Oakland Approach Control tape." It was garbled. The controller snapped: "Say again." There was no answer. Even after laboratory analysis of the radio tape, the best the investigators could do was come up with a message: "Skipbers shot. We're ben shot. Tryin' ta help."

Without Question. Flight 773 had plunged to earth. At 6:51 a.m., a United Air Lines pilot made his radio report: "There's a black cloud of smoke coming up through the undercast. Looks like oil or gasoline fire." At the scene, investigators found the cockpit had been demolished. But on a bit of tubing from the pilot's seat, they discovered a small, lead-scarred dent caused by a bullet. Said the report: "Measurements place the bullet indentation directly in line of fire between the captain's back and anyone standing in the aisleway between and slightly to the rear of the captain's and first officer's seats."

To the CAB there could be no question: Frank Gonzales had shot both men from behind and he had gratified his demented wish to die that day in a horrifying act of multiple murder.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.