Lost Souls of Flight 182 Crash Continue to Wander San Diego

Lost Souls of Flight 182 Crash Continue to Wander San Diego
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On Monday, September 25, 1978, San Diego was overcome by catastrophe. Pacific Southwest Airlines Flight 182 was midair when it collided with a Cessna 172 aircraft, which is a private plane. After impact, both planes began to fall toward earth.

Both planes crashed in North Park—a San Diego neighborhood. Flight 182 crashed into an intersection. All 135 people on the plane perished, along with seven additional people in the nearby houses.

The Cessna private plane crashed onto Polk Avenue. The two passengers of the plane died on impact. Nine people were injured during the collision, and twenty-two homes were severely damaged as well.

The total number of deaths, 144, has made it the deadliest airplane accident in the history of California. And now, some North Park residents claim the site where flight 182 crashed is now haunted. Sandra had just been a young girl at the time, but her grandma had lived in that particular neighborhood in 1978, and for the three decades that followed.

Riding to the Truth

You never know who is watching you unless you're constantly looking back, but that is no way to live a peaceful life.

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“I remember insisting on wanting to ride my bike one fall morning, and my grandmother wouldn’t allow me to leave the house. She kept speaking to the neighbors on the phone and peeking through the blinds. I believe that was the day that Flight 182 crashed,” Sandra said, looking sad.

“In the decade that followed, I spent a lot of evenings and weekends hanging out with my grandma. She wouldn’t let me leave the dining room table until all my homework was finished,” she reminisced with a smile. “After, I would get to ride my bicycle around the neighborhood while she made me dinner.

“It was on one of those evening bicycle trips around the neighborhood that something drew me to the other side of North Park. Suddenly there was something there that needed my attention. Curious, I peddled my way across the neighborhood.

“I turned a corner and the moment I got to the intersection, I knew I was at the crash site. I got off my bike and I started walking around. Something about that spot…it felt cold, like it hadn’t been warmed by the sun like the rest of the area around it,” Sandra said.

“And that’s when I heard this whispering around and behind me, as if someone was walking through leaves or something,” she added with a frown. “I would turn one way, and it seemed like the noise would shift to be right behind me. It was interesting…and downright scary at the same time.

“’Hello’ said the voice. And then I heard a series of giggles, as if a pair of children were running past me in the street,” she said, shivering at the thought. “I realized that although nobody was at the site of the crash with me, I wasn’t quite alone either.

“I tried my best not to panic,” Sandra sighed. “Instead, I reached into my backpack, and I pulled out my Polaroid camera. I waited and waited until I heard the sound of someone speaking, then I snapped a couple of photographs.

“I knew I would be too scared to look at them then and there, so I rode my way back to my grandmother’s house for dinner. I found a ton of orbs in the pictures. San Diego is alive with ghosts because of that crash,” she nodded