United Air Lines is proud of many things—that it is the oldest U. S. airline; that it flies more passenger plane-miles and traffic ton-miles than any other airline; that it makes money. Not the least of United's prides has been its record on its most popular run—the 363 miles between Los Angeles and San Francisco. Since acquiring twin-motored transports seven years ago. United has flown as many as 30 planes a day over this mountainous, two-hour route with a reliability comparable to the Pennsylvania Railroad's service between New York and Philadelphia. Pacific businessmen fly United as naturally as they take taxis. Until last week they had no other cause for complaint than that United pilots, nonchalant from long experience, sometimes skimmed startlingly low over the tumbled Tehachapi Mountains. Last week it became United's turn to demonstrate that "pride goeth before destruction." Skimming over the Teha-chapis only 20 miles from Los Angeles' Union Air Terminal at Burbank, Flight 34 smashed into the top of Oak Mountain, brought death to twelve people.
The plane, a twin-motored Boeing, had left San Francisco at 5:30 that afternoon, streaked down the San Joaquin Valley at some 200 m.p.h. toward the first stop at Burbank. Aboard were two pilots, pretty Hostess Yvonne Trego, and nine passengers, including a member of Jimmy Dorsey's orchestra, an artist from Walt Disney's studio and young Edward Thomas Ford Jr., son of the vice president of the Grace Lines, with his pretty wife. The weather was not bad: at Bakersfield the ceiling was 3,500 ft., at Burbank 3,000 ft. The peaks on both sides of the course were garlanded with scattered clouds. Delayed slightly, Pilot Edwin W. ("Soapy") Blom, a veteran of 18 years' flying, radioed Burbank that he would arrive at 7:37, seven minutes late.
At 7:36, Blom's voice came crisply through the ether asking Burbank for a radio bearing. The Burbank operator was puzzled to note that Pilot Blom was using a daytime radio frequency. He asked the plane's position. Pilot Blom replied: "Wait a minute." The operator waited. But he heard no voice through his earphones, no drone of motors in the sky. In a few minutes frantic United launched a search, but not until next morning did a flyer spot the tragedy from the air.