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To the Editor:
Cumberland Times-News
Published: January 27, 2014
My name is Bill Ramsey. I’m 83 years old and reside in Hagerstown.
This is my account of the U.S. Air Force B-52 plane crash on Jan. 13, 1964.
On this date, I was the first sergeant of the 28th Ordnance Detachment (Explosive Ordnance Disposal).
This unit is a bomb disposal squad stationed At Fort George G. Meade in Maryland.
At that time. In the early morning hours (1 a.m.) about on Jan. 13, 1964, I received an emergency call at my quarters for me to report to our headquarters.
Upon arrival I met with officers who then briefed me. I then alerted my unit. We were then told of an Air Force B-52 aircraft with nuclear on board had crashed in Garrett County.
We immediately departed for the scene in a blinding snow storm our mission was to secure the weapons and render them safe for removal and transport.
The crash site was an isolated mountainous area and small fires burned at the site.
A command post was established and we began dousing the fires, leaving several burning for warmth.
The bombs were secured and rendered safe to be moved for transport out of the area. The following day Air Force officials arrived on the scene and assumed custody of the weapons.
The unit then packed our gear for return to Fort Meade, “mission accomplished.”
In closing let me first say how proud I am of my men and my unit. I’ve been troubled for 50 years that my unit was never recognized for its actions that day in 1964.
That’s always bothered me.
William “Bill” Ramsey
Master Sgt. (U.S. Army, retired)
Hagerstown
To the Editor:
Cumberland Times-News
Published: January 28, 2014
Jan. 13, 1964, is a night I cannot forget. Jack and I were up early sometime between 3 and 4 a.m.
We had a heavy snowstorm and he had to get to LaVale to plow snow for Braddock Motor Inn, now Henry Gehauf’s, and Albert’s Supermarket, where he worked as a meat cutter.
We heard an extremely loud plane fly over our house. The thing was immense. It was very low, almost touching the treetops coming over Jackson Mountain below the power lines between the end of Detmold and entering Nikep.
We could see it out our kitchen window, which faces Georges Creek and the Mountain.
Jack said “He better pull up, because he is heading for Savage Mountain, and if he stays this low he will never make it.”
It wasn’t much later when we heard a loud explosion and the whole sky lit up red. We thought
Allegany Ballistics blew up.
The phone rang a while later. Jack said he had been called out for duty. He was with the Army Reserves MPs stationed at the VFW in Lonaconing. They were called out to watch over the remains of the plane.
It was late that night when he got home. He did talk to one of the pilots in the hospital, I don’t remember which one, who told him the wind currents on Savage Mountain are very treacherous.
It is hard to believe it’s been 50 years since the crash. Jack has been gone for 38 years, but he knew Savage Mountain like the back of his hand.
Jean A. Moore
Westernport
Note: The following letter to the editor was published in the Cumberland Times-News on September 28, 1999. It is reproduced here exactly as published. We thank Glenna Williford for contributing this letter.
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To the Editor:
I am writing in response to the letter that Jean Kirsch wrote to the editor about the B-52 crash in January of 1964. I read this article in the Times-News on Sept. 20, 1999. It got me so that I just had to respond to this letter.
I was one of the first five people on the crash site, being it was only one mile from my home place, about 200 to 250 yards off of the Pine Swamp Road.
On that particular morning at about 2 a.m. we heard a roar over the top of our house and seconds later we heard a loud explosion that rocked the house. My father (Ray W. Broadwater, deceased) said he thought it sounded like a plane had crashed close by. So that morning around daylight we started out wading in about 24 inches of snow (not 48 inches); it was also about 10 degrees above zero, and the wind was rather calm that morning.
We walked about three-quarters of a mile to the next farm, which belonged to my uncle (Stanley Warnick, deceased), to find out that a plane had actually crashed. We found a piece of the right wing laying in the barnyard. It was about 30 feet in length. The actual crash site was about one-fourth of a mile up the Pine Swamp Road.
When my father, uncle and I arrived at the crash site, there was already another gentleman there by the name of Jesse Green. Jesse still resides at the Barton address, which is a quarter-mile from the crash site. Another gentleman who was already there when we reached the crash site was the late John “Babe” Layton.
This was about 9 a.m. on the day of the crash site {sic]. The National Guard was next at the crash site. They were lead by Forest Ranger Robert Warnick, who is now deceased. They ran the bulldozer to open the road about 3 p.m. the day of the crash.
So the very first civilians on the crash site were Jesse Green, John Layton, Stanley Warnick, Ray Broadwater and myself, Allen Broadwater. We were right beside the bombs; in fact, John Layton sat down on one of the bombs because he did not know what it was. He later had to go be tested for exposure to radiation, which the bomb did not have enough of to hurt him.
So, as you can read, there were several civilians at the scene before any government officials arrived. I can take anybody to the site of the plane crash because I drive right by it several days a week on my way to my home place. In fact, my brother, Keith Broadwater, still live on the farm in which my family still to this day owns.
Allen Broadwater
Grantsville
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Website Administrator’s note:
The crash site is on private property and trespassing is prohibited.
I was eight years old, and lived in Moscow, Md. in 1964. The crash site was up on the hill, four miles west of our house. My father worked the cat eye shift at the Kelly Springfield Tire plant in Cumberland. My mother was still up at 1:42 am on January 13th of ’64, and she was looking out of the back window of our house when the B-52 impacted the ground. She said that she thought that the world was coming to an end. The sky turned fire red up to the zenith, and all the way to the horizon, north and south. My most salient memory is of everyone gathering around the radio to hear the hourly reports that were broadcast from WFRB radio, in Frostburg, wondering where the missing fliers were, and hoping for a successful rescue of all of the crew members.