Free Book Promotion! RED SANDS (TSR, 1988) 5 Days Only, June 1 thru 5, 2025.

 Free Book Promotion! RED SANDS, an early original TSR novel by Tonya Carter Cook and I will be available as a free Kindle ebook download starting Sunday, June 1, 2025, 12:00 AM PDT. The free period ends Thursday, June 5, 2025, 11:59 PM PDT. Enjoy!

Click here for Kindle's page.

Lomographs

"Lomography is a photographic style which involves taking spontaneous photographs with minimal attention to technical details. Lomographic images often exploit the unpredictable, non-standard optical traits of toy cameras (such as light leaks and irregular lens alignment), and non-standard film processing techniques for aesthetic effect. Lomography is named after the Soviet-era cameras produced by the Leningradskoye Optiko-Mekhanicheskoye Obyedinenie (LOMO)." [wikipedia.org]

Recent images made with a genuine LOMO "Smena" camera. 35 mm color Fuji film, ISO 100.

1. Ducks versus the outer darkness

2. Smoke? Clouds?

3. Davis Library, University of North Carolina

4. Iron smelter

5. University Methodist Church,

Chapel Hill NC

6. McCorkle Place, 

University of North Carolina

7. Liminal space: a hotel hallway in

Fairfax, VA

8. Storms. Wrightsville Beach, NC

9. Iron Pour, Durham NC

10. Horizon

11. Iron Smelter at full blast

12. It's only a model.

FIANCHETTO Now Available as a Kindle e-Book!

After some years and many revisions, I've finally opted to put FIANCHETTO out as an original e-book for Amazon Kindle. I first started the story in 2017, basing it on an idea I had as far back as high school in the 1970s. As the early drafts grew longer and longer, I realized for practical reasons FIANCHETTO would end up as two longish novels, each about 130,000 words long. The new e-book is Book 1, and covers Victor Leventon's contest with the #2 chess playing AI in the world at that time, ARAKHNA. Book 2, which is 80% written, deals with Victor's ultimate contest with the chess champion machine, FORT. If Book 1 does well, Book 2 will follow.

The long gestation period brought with it some unusual problems. Terminology, for one thing; in 2017, "AI" had a more remote, science-fictional flavor than it does now. By 2025, the term is so ubiquitous as to be meaningless for story purposes. Calling the sentient machines ARAKHNA and FORT AI doesn't convey the breadth of their intellect, and equates them with current chat bots and graphics synthesizers.

I needed a new, more advanced term and came up with énamyalic (from the Greek ένα μυαλό, “one mind,”) to describe devices which achieve actual sentience. Maybe the term will catch on. I also had to reset the timeline of the novel further into the future. Early drafts set FIANCHETTO in the year 2055, with flashbacks in the 2020s. That didn't seem enough of a time gap between now and then, so I bumped it forward 10 years to 2065. The excerpts from the novel I've posted on my blog reflect the former chronology.

2065 may seem too far, but I consciously tried to make it feel both familiar and different. We'll see if I succeeded. Futurism in fiction is hard; that's why SF stories from the recent past date so quickly. All fiction, regardless of time and setting, is about the era it was written in. What happens between 2025 and 2065 I cannot guess, but I've tried to make the novel coherent and believable.

One caveat: though some of the flashbacks involve children, this is not a YA novel. It has adult themes and activities. If it were a movie it would at least be PG-13, and in some places, R. Sexual activity, violence, language, etc. etc. 

Here's the eBook link: FIANCHETTO.

The Print-on-Demand trade paperback: POD FIANCHETTO.

Postscript: Someone called "Paul B Thompson" has several horror story collections on Amazon. These are not my work.

 

Teaser: THE FLAME THAT IS MYSELF The Story of "Peter Vesey"

 Here's an excerpt from a piece I wrote recently about a reputed case of spontaneous combustion. The full article is almost 8K words long, so I have to decide to expand into something bigger, or settle on a short format e-booklet.

THE FLAME THAT IS MYSELF: The Story of Peter Vesey

Paul B. Thompson

 

            Between the realms of fiction and non-fiction exists a wide, gray area of reputedly true stories of history, crime, religion, and the occult. Here are also found the "stranger than fiction" tales of the paranormal. It's a flourishing genre that has transplanted itself quite successfully from pulp magazines to mass-market paperbacks, and now to the internet. This is not surprising. People love a good mystery, and branding them true imparts a luster that lends both historical weight and emotional impact. A questionable facet internet journalism has also inherited is a reliance on previous popular accounts at the expense of genuine historical research.

            One enduring topic in the stranger-than-fiction genre is Spontaneous Human Combustion.   As the title implies, this is the alleged phenomenon of human beings unexpectedly (and without external cause) bursting into flame and dying, being reduced to ash in moments. The close environs of the victim are usually unaffected by fire, though certain tell-tale traces often occur: soot stains on walls or ceiling, greasy residue around the remains, and most macabre, the victim's extremities often escape destruction. The literature of SHC (as it is usually shortened) is littered with death scene photos of human ash heaps from which short lengths of leg or feet remain, untouched by fire. The deaths are real, the fire genuine, but considerable debate goes on between advocates of paranormal theories and skeptics who explain SHC deaths as peculiar but natural accidents.

            In 1967, Vincent Gaddis published Mysterious Fires and Lights, a collection of allegedly true tales of ghost lights, lightning anomalies, UFOs, and SHC. Gaddis was a former newspaperman turned freelance writer. He was also a member of the original Fortean Society, that loosely associated group of writers, researchers, and theorists devoted to the works of Charles Fort.

Gaddis wrote several highly readable but poorly researched books on UFOs, psychic phenomena, and unexplained disappearances. For example, his accounts of aerial and maritime disappearances in the Caribbean fostered the legend—and created the name of—the Bermuda Triangle.

At the end of Chapter 12 of Mysterious Fires and Lights ("Enigma of the Fire Deaths"), Gaddis breaks his narrative and adds this last item:

Originally, when planning this chapter, I had decided not to include the story of Peter Vesey. It is a fourth-hand tale in which I have no details as to time and place. But I have changed my mind in the hope that some reader of this book who has personal knowledge of the tragedy can supply me with additional information.

 

In 1944, Carl Payne Tobey, a well-known astrologer and mathematician, sent an account of this case to novelist Tiffany Thayer, who was secretary of the former Fortean Society. Thayer published it in issue No. 10 of the Fortean Society Magazine (later called Doubt). Tobey had the letter and clippings he referred to at the time, but since he was busy and the material was lost somewhere in his files, he wrote from memory. When, in 1962, I visited Tobey at his home in Tucson, Arizona, he told me that these records had been destroyed by termites.

 

In the early 1930's Tobey was one of the editors of American Astrology magazine. Peter Vesey wrote astrological fiction for publication. His stories appeared almost every month and were popular with the magazine's readers. Suddenly his contributions stopped arriving in the editorial offices. Little thought was given to the matter, and his space was filled by someone else.

 

One day a letter came from a reader who lived in Vesey's part of the country. Enclosed were newspaper clippings that told a weird story. Peter Vesey was dead. He had departed this life under bizarre circumstances.

 

Vesey was a strange man who had devoted his life to the study of strange subjects. It was hinted that he went in for the occult rituals of medieval magicians. He was secretive. One morning he called his wife and son into the living room. He said he wanted to be alone for a while. There was something he wanted to do. He asked his wife and son to leave the house for an hour and to walk around the grounds outside. Vesey was alone in the house for an hour. Then his wife and son returned.

 

On the floor of the living room were the remains of Peter Vesey. They were charred remains. Peter Vesey was a blackened cinder, his body burned to a crisp. Nothing else in the room or around the body had been burned or even scorched. There was a fireplace at the far end of the room with a modest fire, but nothing between the fire and the remains was burned.

 

The clippings stated that the authorities were never able to determine what had happened to Peter Vesey. What was it he wanted to do—alone—that added his name to the long list of victims of mysterious combustion?

 

I would like to know more—much more—about Peter Vesey.

 

            When I first read Gaddis' book as a youth, I took this challenge seriously. As a college student in the 1970s I tried several times to find out more about the case, using the resources of a major university library without success. It became a nagging, unfinished item I never forgot yet couldn't seem to pin down. I did eventually find Tobey's original letter in The Fortean magazine, published in 1945.

CASE OF PETER VESEY by Carl Payne Tobey

Although these notes are written from memory, it is a true case with a record in newspapers and courts. Whatever further details might be desired can [be] obtained.

Peter Vesey wrote astrological fiction for American Astrology magazine. I did not like his fiction and cannot be accused of having read it. His stories were popular with the public. Although I was one of the editors of the magazine at the time, I wasn't interested in Peter Vesey, which appears to have been his true name. Perhaps I should have been more interested. Had I known what was ahead for Peter Vesey, I might have read his stories with great interest.

Peter Vesey lived on a farm, way out west somewhere. I forget where, but can check. His stories came by mail and were always published. Then they stopped coming, and we didn't hear from Peter Vesey. Little thought was given to the matter, and his space was filled by someone else.

One day, came a letter from a reader who lived in Peter Vesey's part of the country. It enclosed newspaper clippings. Peter Vesey was no longer mortal. Peter Vesey had departed under strange circumstances. The story was something like this.

It was early in the day . . . before noon. Peter Vesey had devoted his life to studying strange subjects. He went in for the occult. He was secretive. He studied alone. On this morning, he called his wife and son, the only persons in the house outside of himself, to the living room. He explained that he wanted to be alone for a while. He had something he wanted to do. He wanted to be left in the house alone for an hour. As a favor, he asked whether his wife and son would mind going out and walking around the grounds, for an hour.

Although the request may have seemed strange, Peter Vesey was a strange fellow anyway, and wife and son did not take the request as anything too unusual. They went out of the house and walked and talked in the grounds.

For one hour, Peter Vesey was alone in the house.

At the end of that time, wife and son returned. On the floor of the living room, were the remains of Peter Vesey. They were charred remains. His body was burned to a crisp. Nothing around the body, nothing else in the room, was in any way burned. Just Peter Vesey was burned. At the far end of the room was a fire-place with a modest fire. But there was no traceable connection between this fire and Peter Vesey. Nothing between the fire and Peter Vesey was burned.

The authorities were never able to determine what happened to Peter Vesey. All we ever knew about the matter was that the termination of his stories by mail coincided with the above event. If more accurate and detailed data should be desired, I'll have it dug out of the files of American Astrology magazine.

            For many years this was the sum total of what was known about the case. One obvious lead was  to find back issues of American Astrology. In pre-internet days this meant finding either actual archived paper copies or microforms. For years, real life prevented me traveling around the United States to locate eighty-year-old astrology magazines. When the internet matured in the third decade of the twenty-first century, the search for Peter Vesey became easier and wider than ever before.

[to be continued . . . somewhere]

The Author's Publications

 

Select Works by Paul B. Thompson

 

Note: This list does not include material written for online publication.

 

Non-Fiction Books:

Joan of Arc Warrior Saint of France. Enslow Publications, 2007.

Billy the Kid: It Was a Game of Two. Enslow Publications, 2010.

Short Non-Fiction:

 "Henderson Luelling." The Dictionary of North Carolina Biography, University of North Carolina Press, 1980.

"The Remarkable Experiments of Andrew Crosse." Beyond Reality, October 1980.

"The Broomfield Experiments of Andrew Crosse." Pursuit, XIII-4, 1980.

"Rupert T. Gould: A Retrospective Evaluation." INFO Journal, VIII-4, 1980

"The Medusa Cell." Pursuit, XIV-4, 1981.

"Can Science Create Life?" Fate, XXXVI-1, January 1983.

"The High and Dry Wateree." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, CIX-8, August 1983.

"The Magic Spark." Pursuit, XVII-1, 1984.

"The Unknown Mummy." Pursuit, XVII-4, 1984.

"New Maps of Bohemia." (ed.) Forbidden Lines #4, April-May 1991.

"The First Lady of Horror." Forbidden Lines #6, Sept-Oct 1991.

"Raising Hell in High Point." [with Charles Overbeck] Forbidden Lines #7, Nov-Dec 1991.

"Philip Klass Interview." [with Bob Burchette] Forbidden Lines #11, July-Aug 1992.

"Only Begotten Doubter: James Morrow." Forbidden Lines #12, Fall 1992.

"Where We Were Going." Forbidden Lines #14, Summer 1993.

"Flight to Oblivion." Fate, L-7, July 1997.

Plus miscellaneous reviews, editorials, etc.

Fiction: Short Stories

"The Exiles," [with Tonya R. Carter] in Love and War, TSR, Inc., 1987.

"Sodalis," in Forbidden Lines #2 Dec/Jan 1991; #3 Feb/Mar 1991; #4 Apr/May 1991. Serialized novella.

"Pink Bells, Tattered Skies," in Forbidden Lines #10, May/June 1992.

"The Voyage of the Sunchaser," [with Tonya R. Carter] in The Cataclysm, TSR, Inc., 1992.                      

"Solid Gold Asteroid," in Shattered, West End Books, 1994.

"The Summoners," in Relics and Omens, Wizards of the Coast, 1998.

"Noblesse Oblige," in Heroes and Fools, Wizards of the Coast, 1999.

"Versipellis," in The Colors of Magic, Wizards of the Coast, 1999.

"The Compleat Catapult," in Leaves from the Inn of the Last Home II, Wizards of the Coast, 1999.

"Divination Among the Que-Shu," in Leaves from the Inn of the Last Home II, Wizards of the Coast, 1999.

"Freedom's Pride," in Rebels and Tyrants, Wizards, 2000.

"Blue Moon," in The Myths of Magic, Wizards, 2000.

"Deathwings," in The Dragons of Magic, Wizards, 2001.

"Go with the Floe," in The Search for Magic, Wizards, 2002.

"For Want of Ink," in Secrets of Magic, Wizards, 2002.

"Enter, a Ghost," in The Players of Gilean, Wizards, 2003.

"The Last Command," Magic the Gathering anthology 2003.

"The Box," in The Search for Power, Wizards, 2004.

"No Name for Victory," in The Dragons of Time, Wizards of the Coast, 2007.

  

Fiction: Novels

 

Sundipper.  New York: St. Martin's Press, 1987.  Science fiction novel.

Red Sands.  [with Tonya R. Carter] Lake Geneva, WI: TSR, Inc., 1988. Fantasy novel.

Thorn and Needle.  Lake Geneva, WI: TSR, Inc., 1992.  Science fiction novel.

Red Lion, White Bird, Amazon Kindle eBook, 2012. Occult novel.

Fianchetto, Amazon Kindle eBook, 2025. Science fiction novel.

 

"Dragonlance" novels, co-written by Tonya Carter Cook:

Darkness and Light.  TSR, Inc., 1989.

Riverwind the Plainsman.  TSR, Inc., 1990.

Firstborn.  TSR, Inc., 1991.

The Qualinesti.  TSR, Inc., 1991.

The Dargonesti. TSR, Inc., 1995.

 

The Barbarians Trilogy:

Children of the Plains, Wizards of the Coast, 2000.

Brother of the Dragon, Wizards of the Coast, 2001.

Sister of the Sword, Wizards of the Coast, 2002.

 

The Ergoth Trilogy:

A Warrior's Journey, Wizards of the Coast, 2003.

The Wizard's Fate, Wizards of the Coast, 2004.

A Hero's Justice, Wizards of the Coast, 2004.

 

The Elven Exiles Trilogy:

Sanctuary, Wizards of the Coast, 2005.

Alliance, Wizards of the Coast, 2006.

Destiny, Wizards of the Coast, 2007.

 

"Dragonlance" novels by Paul B. Thompson:

Middle of Nowhere, Wizards of the Coast, 2003.

The Forest King, Wizards of the Coast, 2009.

 

"Magic: The Gathering" novels:

Nemesis. Wizards of the Coast, 2000.

 

Historical Novels for young readers:

Liberty’s Son (The Boston Tea Party) Enslow Publications, 2009.

The Devil's Door (The Salem Witchcraft Trials) Enslow Publications, 2010.

 

The Brightstone Trilogy: (YA fantasy)

The Brightworking, Enslow Publications, 2012.

The Fortune Teller, Enslow, 2012.

Battle for the Brightstone, Enslow, 2013.

 

The Hy-Brasil Series: (YA science fiction)

Lost Republic, Enslow, 2014

 

 

Fiction: Plays

"Forget-Me-Not," [with Tonya Carter Cook] Performed at the Mid-Pines Resort, Southern Pines, N.C., January 1987. Interactive mystery-drama.

 

Fiction: Editing

Bertrem's Guide to the Age of Mortals, co-edited with Nancy Berberick and Stan Brown.

Wizards of the Coast, 2000.

 

Television:

Appearances: on-camera commentator for "Scary Tales" (Workaholic Productions), 3Net cable network, 4 episodes (October-December 2011).

Scripts:

"Marked By the Mob," TV series, 3Net Network, 2013

3 episodes: "Bosses," "Iced," "Turf Wars."

"America: Facts vs. Fiction," TV series, The Military Channel,

"The New World," 2013

"The Real West," 2017

The Military Channel changed its named to The American Heroes Channel in 2014.

 

 

Education

Master of Arts Teaching, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 1983

Bachelor of Arts in History, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 1980

From ParaScope: "Flight to Oblivion" [The Strange Death of Coach "Bo" Rein]

This article first appeared in the July 1997 issue of FATE magazine. It recounts the strange events surrounding the death of football coach Robert "Bo" Rein and his pilot, Louis Benscotter. Since 1980 several other incidents like this have occurred, such as the loss of pro golfer Payne Stewart in 1999. Hypoxia is almost certainly the cause of the pilots' loss of control (and eventual crash), but in the Rein case the question remains, what caused the loss of pressurization in the Cessna Conquest?

After this article was published in FATE, I received an email from the BBC (yes, the BBC) who wanted to know more about my sources and more details of the incident. I tracked down Jack Barker of the Atlanta FAA office (by then retired), and he confirmed that the agency withheld tapes of cockpit transmissions from independent investigator Frank McDermott. He had no idea why, as this was not standard procedure at all. I asked him if he was willing to talk to the BBC for whatever documentary they were preparing, and he agreed.

As far as I know, it never happened. I never heard from the BBC again, and I don't know if the story was ever used. 

Wikipedia's article on Rein contains information on the case that surfaced after my article was written.

The article as it appeared on ParaScope can be found here. Modern comments below have been added in red.

A Cessna Conquest (stock photo)

Flight to Oblivion

by Paul B. Thompson
Nebula Editor
[Out of date email address removed]

Thursday, January 10, 1980:
A twin-engine private plane taxied onto the runway of the Shreveport, Louisiana, municipal airport. At the controls was Louis Benscotter, 47. Benscotter, a veteran pilot with 31 years of experience, was preparing to fly to Baton Rouge, a 40-minute hop across the state. When he filed his flight plan with the Federal Aviation Administration, Benscotter indicated he would have two passengers. But when he left the ground he had only one: Robert E. "Bo" Rein, head football coach of Louisiana State University.

The plane, a Cessna Conquest, took off at 9:22 p.m. Four minutes after takeoff, Fort Worth, Texas, Air Traffic Control advised Benscotter of heavy thunderstorms in the Baton Rouge area and suggested he bypass them. The pilot asked for permission to divert east, toward Jackson, Mississippi. Fort Worth cleared Benscotter to go east and climb from 23,000 to 25,000 feet. Benscotter acknowledged his new flight plan. That was the last voice contact anyone would have with Cessna N441NC.

At 9:38, FAA radar showed the Conquest climbing above its assigned altitude and veering to the northeast. The FAA called the plane, but received no answer. Fort Worth ATC then contacted a Pan Am flight near the wandering Cessna and asked the airliner to warn Benscotter to check his en route radio frequency. The Pan Am pilot heard Benscotter trying to respond to Fort Worth, but the transmission was weak. The Cessna pilot did not respond to air-to-air calls from the Pan Am plane, nor did he answer calls from an Eastern Airlines jet in the vicinity.

By now Rein and Benscotter had climbed to 33,000 feet, the operational ceiling of the Cessna. Their course was almost due east. The FAA continued trying to reach the wayward plane. Air traffic centers in Memphis, Atlanta, and Washington, D.C., joined in. None of them succeeded. N441NC flew on, sometimes climbing as high as 40,500 feet. As the plane neared the North Carolina state line, the Air National Guard at Seymour Johnson Air Force Base in Goldsboro, North Carolina, was notified. Two F-4 Phantom fighter jets were scrambled to intercept the Cessna. The National Guard pilots were ordered to close on the private plane and try to assess the problem. Why was Benscotter so far off course? Why did he not answer radio calls? Why was he so far above normal flying altitude for his model aircraft?

The Phantoms scrambled. Within minutes after take-off, they would intercept the Cessna somewhere in the sky over Raleigh, North Carolina. 

                                                                          #

Bo Rein was a comer. At 30 he became the youngest head football coach at an American college, and everyone agreed his career held great promise. Born July 20, 1945, Rein attended Ohio University and received a Bachelor's degree in 1968. A talented athlete, he played minor league baseball in 1967 for the Cleveland Indians' organization. He played three seasons of baseball, and he might have gone to the majors had he not suffered an Achilles' tendon injury. Rein was also a football All-American in college, and was drafted by the Baltimore Colts of the NFL in 1968. Rein's destiny did lie on the gridiron, but not in uniform. Injuries convinced him to coach rather than play.

In the early 1970s Rein honed his coaching skills as an assistant coach at a number of schools: Ohio State, William and Mary, Purdue, North Carolina State, and Arkansas. His time at Raleigh's North Carolina State was particularly productive, as Rein worked under colorful head coach Lou Holtz. Holtz left N.C. State in 1976 for a brief stint as head coach of the NFL's New York Jets. The university chose Bo Rein to replace him.

In three seasons at N.C. State, Rein did so well he attracted the attention of other, larger college football programs. In November 1979 he left Raleigh to assume the top spot at Louisiana State.

Bo Rein was much admired by his players and respected by his coaching opponents. His energy was legendary. One fellow coach described Rein as "aggressive, tireless, persistent." In 1969, for example, Rein flew from Ohio to Las Vegas to play in a Continental League football game. As soon as the game was over he flew right back to Ohio. Rein enjoyed flying and never avoided it -- even a short trip like Shreveport to Baton Rouge.

                                                                            #

Two National Guard Phantoms closed on the lonely Cessna. In the darkness the jet pilots could see no interior lights in the plane. No one seemed to be at the controls. Repeated close-range radio calls brought no response. The Guardsmen even tried wagging their wings, hoping to attract attention. The Conquest flew on with no more reaction than a radio-controlled model.

The east coast was below them now, and the Phantoms had to break off the chase because their fuel was running low. The Air Force took up the pursuit, rousing an F-106 fighter out of Langley Air Force Base in southern Virginia. By the time the F-106 pilot, Captain Daniel Zoerb, found the Cessna, it was flying along at 40,600 feet, eastward over the sea. Zoerb followed, and N441NC began a gradual descent to 25,000 feet. The Air Force pilot closed in and saw no signs of life aboard, only a red glow in the cabin that probably came from the Cessna's instrument panel.

At 25,000 feet the Conquest dropped a wing and fell into a spin. Zoerb watched it spiral down a hundred miles off the coast of Norfolk. N441NC never recovered from its spin and plunged into the sea. Local weather was poor, visibility no more than 15 miles, and waves were running two to three feet high. Water temperature was only 40 degrees. The crash occurred shortly before 1 a.m. on January 11.

Seventy miles from the scene of the crash, the Coast Guard cutter Taney was on patrol. Word of the downed plane reached the cutter, which immediately put its helm over. An area 40 by 75 miles was assigned to be searched. A Coast Guard C-130 aircraft joined the operation.

At 6:30 a.m., the cutter Cherokee took over the rescue operation and kept it up all day. Some debris was sighted but not recovered: a wheel thought to be the Cessna's and some orange trim from the fuselage. That was all.

The Conquest had been a troublesome plane for Cessna. The model was grounded twice by the Federal Aviation Administration, in 1977 and 1979, because of failures in the tail structure. After the second grounding, all existing planes were modified to correct the fault. The FAA recertified Cessna Conquests as safe to fly in September 1979. The history of tail structure failures does not seem to have had anything to do with what happened to Benscotter and Rein.

The twin turboprop wasn't just a "grasshopper." It was a million-dollar executive transport. On top of his 31 years of flying experience, Benscotter had passed a two-week training course on flying the Conquest. Shortly before its final flight, N441NC had made a round trip to Houston without incident. So what happened?

Suspicion immediately centered on pilot incapacitation. Wandering off course, flying to extreme altitudes, and the failure to answer the radio all pointed to Benscotter and Rein being unable to respond to these problems. Whatever happened must have happened to both men at the same time. Had Benscotter alone been stricken (say, by a heart attack), Rein should have been able to call for help.

Carbon monoxide from the engines' exhaust might have overcome two men in a light plane, but it seems unlikely in this case. Instead of a single engine in the nose, the Cessna Conquest had two wing-mounted turboprops. In flight, the slipstream would tend to wash away any exhaust fumes long before they penetrated the fuselage.

The National Transportation Safety Board zeroed in on oxygen deprivation as the most probable cause of the strange last flight of Cessna N441NC. Hypoxia, or lack of oxygen, is a common threat to anyone flying above 10,000 feet. The Conquest's cabin was pressurized, like a civilian airliner's. An 11-cubic-foot oxygen tank was provided, and an elaborate safety system was built into the plane to prevent the pilot or passengers being deprived of vital oxygen.

For example, if the pressurization system was not turned on during the pre-flight check, a red warning light would come on [Is this the light Captain Zoerb saw?] when the plane reached 10,650 feet. Normal, healthy adults would be conscious at this altitude and couldn't fail to notice the warning. If they did, at 14,500 feet emergency oxygen masks would pop out, just like the masks on commercial airliners. It takes 20 minutes of low pressure before hypoxia sets in, and between two men, one of them should have been able to take emergency measures.

As a final safety check, the heating and cooling systems in the Conquest would not function at any altitude if the cabin pressurization was left off. 

Though hypoxia seems like the best explanation for what happened to Benscotter and Rein, there are notable objections to the theory. The first is the fact that the trouble began only minutes after takeoff, when the Cessna was not yet at high altitude. Failure to actuate the plane's oxygen system seems improbable for a pilot of Benscotter's experience. Mechanical failure isn't likely, either. The Cessna passed all its safety checks in Shreveport before the flight. N441NC was a relatively new plane, not worn out or rickety. Before its last flight the airframe had only 38 hours flying time on it.

Why did none of the jet pilots chasing the Cessna see anyone on board? If Benscotter had passed out at the controls, his body should have been visible, strapped in his seat. The slowly climbing attitude of the plane was probably the result of the pilot trimming it to climb as per his instructions from Fort Worth ATC, early in the flight. Then for some unknown reason Benscotter left his seat; he must have, else the weight of his inert feet and legs on the foot pedals would have seriously affected the plane's course.

Hypoxia can lead to euphoria, but no suggestion was found that Rein or Benscotter left the plane while in flight. Small civilian planes don't carry parachutes.

From the start, the FAA took the investigation of the loss of Cessna N441NC very seriously. In May 1980 a spokesman announced that some 20 possible causes of the incident were being studied, ranging from failure of the Conquest's oxygen system to sudden cabin depressurization from a mid-air collision with a bird. (Neither Captain Zoerb nor the Air National Guard pilots mentioned seeing any external damage to the Cessna.) The FAA refused to endorse any specific theory as long as their investigation continued.

Others involved in the mystery were not so patient. In March 1980, the Nichols Construction Company, owners of the plane and employer of Louis Benscotter, filed suit against the FAA and their own insurance company, Insurance Company of America. Nichols had hired a private investigator, Frank McDermott of McLean, Virginia, to conduct a parallel inquiry into the incident. McDermott specialized in aircraft accidents and had many previous investigations to his credit. Nichols decided to sue the FAA because FAA Washington headquarters refused to allow McDermott to hear or copy the tape recordings of air traffic controllers' conversations with Louis Benscotter.

The FAA specifically ordered its regional offices not to give McDermott access to the tapes, even though they had always allowed private investigators such access in the past. The ostensible reason for this stonewalling was that the official inquiry wasn't yet over. Jack Barker, of the FAA's Atlanta office, told the press he couldn't understand why the tapes were being withheld from McDermott. After all, the only conversation between Benscotter and Fort Worth ATC consisted of ordinary takeoff clearances and requests to change altitude, or so the FAA reported. Nichols wanted to collect the insurance on the million-dollar aircraft and could not do so until the FAA investigation was concluded.

No wreckage or remains were ever recovered. The area of ocean where the Cessna crashed is more than 1,100 feet deep, making salvage impractical. In April 1980, Judge E. Maurice Braswell declared Rein and Benscotter legally dead so that their estates could be settled. It was not until December 10, 1980, that the NTSB issued its official report on the loss of Cessna N441NC. After almost a year of theorizing and wrangling, a spokesperson for the Board said, "The Board was unable to determine a cause because it was unable to find any wreckage. This is the end, unless some new evidence is offered and the case reopened."

All that remains is the mystery. Something happened to Rein and Benscotter within minutes of their take-off from Shreveport. Something rendered both men helpless, yet allowed the Conquest to fly on its own for more than a thousand miles. Auto pilot could do that, but that presumes Benscotter was able to activate it. The plane climbed to heights greater than it was designed for, and it most likely crashed because it ran out of fuel.

There have been many aviation mysteries over the years, from the disappearances of the French dirigible Dixmude in 1923 [exploded in midair over the Mediterranean], flying ace Charles Nungesser in 1927, to the crew of Navy blimp L-8, the Star Tiger, the Star Ariel, and many more.

But all these machines, their pilots and passengers, vanished over featureless seas, without any witnesses to record their fates. The last flight of Louis Benscotter and Bo Rein is an entire other dimension of mystery. It was tracked across well-populated and well-monitored countryside, chased by military jets, investigated by federal and private experts -- and yet there are no answers.

Somehow this incident is all the more unsettling for having happened under such close observation. It shakes our faith in our omnipresent technology, much as a public tragedy like the Challenger disaster did. In that case answers were found, but the empty sky and deep Atlantic yield no answers to the disappearance of Coach Bo Rein, no matter how long we ponder them.


Text copyright (c) 1997. Revised 2024, with additional material by the author.