Families mourn 40 years since deadly Japan Airlines crash
On August 12, 1985, the doomed Boeing 747 was around 40 minutes into an hour-long flight from Tokyo to Osaka, when it crashed into a mountain about 120 kilometres (75 miles) northwest of the capital.
Tuesday saw hundreds of people -- including bereaved families and friends -- hike the trails up to the cenotaph erected on Mount Osutaka where the jet crashed.
Among them was a woman who lost her younger brother in the accident.
"I want to tell him that all of his family members are alive, with his soul on our shoulders", she told broadcaster Fuji TV.
"We're doing our best to live our lives".
Japan Airlines Flight 123 lost control soon after take-off, with a loud noise heard about 10 minutes into the trip and an emergency declared, before shaking violently and crashing.
The plane was almost full, with many holidaymakers flying back to their hometowns during Japan's "obon" mid-summer festival.
In the end, 505 passengers -- including a dozen infants -- and 15 crew members perished. Just four passengers survived.
Imperfect repairs to the aircraft's rear bulkhead by Boeing engineers seven years earlier -- coupled with JAL's subsequent lack of oversight -- were blamed for the accident.
Numerous, tiny cracks on the bulkhead -- unnoticed on prior flights -- burst, destroying a tail fin, rupturing hydraulic systems and sending the plane hurtling downward.
The world's worst airline disaster was the 1977 runway collision of two 747s on Tenerife in the Canary Islands that left 583 dead.
More recently in Japan, a near-catastrophic collision occurred at Haneda airport between a Japan Airlines aircraft and a smaller coast guard plane in January 2024.
All 379 people on board the JAL Airbus escaped just before the aircraft was engulfed in flames, but five of the six people on the smaller aircraft died.
tmo/aph/cwl

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Fox News
16 hours ago
- Fox News
100-year-old WWII veteran reflects on 80th anniversary of Battle of Iwo Jima
'Fox News Sunday' anchor Shannon Bream talks with World War II veterans about the upcoming 80th anniversary of the Battle of Iwo Jima.


CBS News
a day ago
- CBS News
Community in Croydon, Pennsylvania honors veteran firefighter who died after being injured while on duty
A community in Bucks County is honoring a veteran firefighter who died one week after being injured while on duty. "This is a tragic time for us; it's a very sudden loss for the fire company," said Joe Gasper, the public information officer for the Third District Fire Company Station 14 in Bristol Township. Purple and black bunting hangs from the firehouse, the American flag is at half-staff, and candles flicker at a memorial to honor Ed Margavich, a lifetime member and a pillar of the fire company. "Never hesitated to get out of bed at 2 in the morning to go out for whatever was needed," Gasper said. The fire company said Margavich first joined at age 16. He was a former chief, and for over six decades, he helped protect his community as a firefighter. On Friday, the 80-year-old died from injuries he sustained while on the job. "He's going to be sorely missed," said Larry Monte, with Goodwill Hose Company #3. "Whenever you needed him, he was there." Last week, Margavich was assisting firefighters in Croydon after authorities said someone set a van on fire, and the flames spread to a home. The fire was ruled arson and remains under investigation. Margavich was helping shut down a nearby road and went back to a firehouse to pick up cones when he fell and was injured. "He broke his femur, so they transported him to the hospital. When the surgery was completed, there was some complications," Gasper said. Margavich was also a lifetime member of Goodwill Hose Company in Bristol Borough. Now, his helmet and coat sit outside the Third District Fire Company as part of a memorial, as fellow members and the community honor his life and service. "Most of the guys here grew up around Eddie before they even became firemen. Our children came down when they were younger, they got to know Eddie, he was like a surrogate grandfather to everybody," Gasper said. The car Margavich drove while responding to fires has also been draped with black bunting. Margavich would have turned 81 next month. Logistics are still being planned for his funeral.


Forbes
2 days ago
- Forbes
Recollections Of My U-2 Flight One Year Later
It's been exactly one year since I took a rare U-2 flight to the edge of space. I wrote about it at the time, of course (link below) - that was the point. It's an honor few civilians and non-pilots ever get. Having had time to digest it now, I've been able to reflect on what happened and what it meant. First, the flight was eight years in the making. When I visited Beale AFB in 2017, the wheels were put in motion. I flew in a T-38 jet, chased the U-2 in a Dodge Charger as it landed and was stuffed into the claustrophobic pressure suit pilots wear for protection against the vacuum of space. Little did I know at the time how much longer it would take to get the actual flight. There were promises and disappointments and postponments and changes of base personnel. The bureacracy got to the point where I never thought the flight would happen. I almost gave up out of frustration, but I also knew from life experience that big things usually take time. One example: It took me 12 years to interview Apollo 11's Neil Armstrong, first man on the moon. But through perseverance and hard work, he finally agreed not long before his death. So when my flight finally was scheduled in stone, I was still skeptical. It was hot in August at Beale, I was told. Didn't I just want to postpone until fall, when the weather was cooler? I really don't care about heat, I told them. Let's just get it done. And so with my contacts at the Pentagon and the public affairs chief at Beale, Charlene Spade, we did. Once I arrived at the base for training, I was excited sure, but still skeptical. The three days of pre-flight training proved more difficult than I had anticipated. Again, I became frustrated, even paranoid. Perhaps this was God's insidious last-minute way of canceling my flight. Looking back now, I realize that wasn't the case. The base personnel were thorough for my own good. A U-2 flight is serious business. When you go above 70,000 feet and something goes wrong with cabin pressurization, you're toast in a few seconds. And then there's the reliability of the plane itself, Cold War-era, and the 'coffin corner' the pilots must negotiate. At the edge of space, the air is so thin that an aircraft must stay within a six-mph window. Go too fast, and the wings fall off of the plane, too slow and the plane stalls. Both are real and deadly scenarios I needed to be prepared for. When finally I was strapped into the cockpit with my claustrophobic Michelin Man space suit and breathing 100 percent pure oxygen, a thousand things went through my mind - fear, excitement, the ability to execute tasks I was given during flight like arming and disarming the ejection seat, taking photos and video, locking and unlocking the canopy, staying hydrated by drinking enough fluid through a straw in my helmet and the rest of it. The flight went off without a glitch, but after two-and-a-half hours in the air, and six hours in the cramped suit, I was exhausted. Thank God for the after-flight debrief, the GoPro camera and what I can actually recall from memory. I suddenly understood what my figure-skating friend, Sasha Cohen, once told me about her Olympic appearances. You have a few short moments to take it all in. But so much is happening so fast, you have little time to enjoy it. Your name is called, then you get out on the ice knowing that the next four minutes determine the rest of your life. You have to focus on your performance, while everything rushes by. Then it's over, and you wait for the judge's scores. Cohen, a little like me, has the aid of television cameras to help her remember it all after the fact. She ultimately took Silver for the U.S. at Torino in 2006, of which she is deservedly proud and has helped change her life. My flight also rushed by. Nothing I had feared went wrong. It has changed my life, too, not to the degree of Cohen's, of course. But I've given Cold War speeches and recalled my unique experience on several podcasts and radio programs. I just wish I could live the flight over, take it in at the time, knowing that all would be okay in the end. I wonder if Cohen feels the same way about her Olympic performance? But I'm also realistic enough to know that that will never happen. It's just my memories and the GoPro film and photos that I will have to cherish. So when people ask if my flight was fun, I'm truthful. No, I say, but it sure was interesting. Probably it's like that for many who experience something unimaginable in their lives, and come out the other end okay. All I can say now is thank you to the U.S. Air Force staff for keeping me safe and allowing me to recount an extraordinary flight for millions of Forbes readers, let them live out my experience vicariously. Frustration, paranoia and fear a year ago for me have turned into satisfaction and gratitude today