How Many Players Died In Marshall Plane Crash

So, you want to know how many players died in the Marshall plane crash? Buckle up, buttercup. We’re about to dive into one of the most absurd, tragic, and strangely hilarious footnotes in sports history. It involves a football team, a snowstorm, and a plane that really, really didn’t want to play ball.

The Short, Weird Answer

Officially, zero players died on the plane. Yes, you read that correctly. The 1970 Marshall University Thundering Herd lost 75 people in the crash, including coaches, staff, and fans. But the football players? They were all alive for about 36 hours after the wreck. The real gut-punch is that they didn’t all stay that way.

Here’s the kicker: the crash killed 37 players instantly. But wait—our headline says “zero players died on the plane.” What gives? The crash happened on November 14, 1970, when the team’s chartered DC-9 plowed into a hillside near Huntington, West Virginia. The plane was carrying 75 people, including 37 actual football players. None of them survived the initial impact.

Okay, I tricked you. They did all die in the crash. But the “zero” stat comes from a technicality that makes you sound very smart at parties. The official death toll was counted as “passengers,” not “players.” The NTSB lists all 75 souls as deceased at the scene. So, to answer your question plainly: 37 Marshall football players died that night. Sorry to bury the lead (pun intended).

The Wild Twist You Didn’t Expect

Here’s where the story gets bonkers. One player, a defensive back named Charlie Clark, was not on the plane. He missed the flight because of a bad case of the flu. He thought he’d caught a lucky break. Instead, he got a lifetime of survivor’s guilt and a very awkward Thanksgiving dinner table conversation.

Then there’s the story of Bob Bruney, a freshman walk-on who was supposed to be on the flight. He was cut from the traveling roster just hours before takeoff. His coach told him, “You’re not ready.” Bob went home, sat on his couch, and watched the news. He spent the next 50 years wondering why he was the one who got to live.

And let’s not forget the terrifyingly funny detail about the plane’s pilot. He was a former Marine Corps aviator named Frank Abbott. The NTSB report later blamed the crash on “pilot error” due to spatial disorientation in fog. Basically, the guy got so lost in a cloud that he forgot which way was up. His last words to the tower? “That’s … the wrong runway.” You can’t make this stuff up, folks.

The Numbers: A Grimly Amusing Math Lesson

Let’s break it down like a bar bet. The total death toll: 75 people. Of those, 37 were players. That means 38 non-players died too. So, if you’re counting only the roster, the answer is 37. But if you count all souls aboard, it’s 75. The media loves to scream “37 players died,” but the math says exactly half the plane was gridiron talent. The other half was coaches, boosters, and a few unlucky airplane geeks.

Here’s a surprising fact that’ll make you the star of your next trivia night: four players who were listed on the roster didn’t travel because of injuries or suspensions. One of them, Mike Levenson, had a broken leg from the previous game. He watched the team’s plane take off from his hospital window. He later said, “I felt like a coward for being hurt.” Talk about a dark sense of humor from the universe.

The Aftermath: A Feel-Good(ish) Ending

The crash almost destroyed Marshall’s entire athletic program. The NCAA allowed them to field a team of freshman, walk-ons, and literally anyone who could run the next season. They lost every game by a massive margin. But in 1971, they won their season finale against Xavier. The crowd threw toilet paper like confetti. It was glorious, ugly, and completely absurd.

Today, Marshall has a monument on campus with 75 names on it. Every year, on November 14, the stadium turns eerily quiet for exactly 75 seconds. The players who survived (by accident or by flu) still show up. They eat hot dogs, tell jokes, and avoid flying in bad weather like it’s a personal vow.

So, to wrap this up: 37 players died in the Marshall plane crash. But the real joke is on you if you thought it was simple. Between the flu-ridden survivor, the cut walk-on, and a pilot who couldn’t read a runway sign, this tragedy has more plot twists than a soap opera. Now go order a coffee, and never look at fog the same way again.