Investigators later reported that Munson had died of smoke inhalation. According to the medical examiner's report, released by Anthony Cardarelli, sheriff of Summit County, Munson was dead when the second fire burned up the plane.
Neal Callahan of the Chicago district office of the FAA, notified by the control tower of the crash, was responsible for notifying the Yankees after the Munson family was called.
He put in a call from his Chicago office to the Yankees offices in the Bronx and reached the head telephone operator, Doris Walden, who cheerily answered, "World Champion Yankees."
"I have to speak to Mr. Steinbrenner. It's a matter of life and death," Callahan blurted out.
Walden had heard this kind of excuse before from outraged fans hoping to get through to Steinbrenner. But Callahan insisted it was that serious and she decided to put the call through to Steinbrenner's office. A young man named Gerry Murphy, who had served as traveling secretary and was now Steinbrenner's personal assistant, answered the phone. He heard Callahan again insist he had to speak to Steinbrenner on this matter. He did not wish to reveal these tragic facts to anyone other than the Boss. Murphy hesitated. He knew by now most of the people who could get through to Steinbrenner directly -- limousine pal Bill Fugazy; Jimmy Nederlander, the show business producer and longtime pal; a few team owners and acceptable newspaper men.
Steinbrenner might explode at him if this guy was a phony. He gambled and put the call through. Steinbrenner picked up the phone and heard Callahan identify himself as a representative of the FAA in Chicago. He had bad news.
He said there had been a crash outside the Canton-Akron airport. "Your player, Thurman Munson, he's been killed."
"Are you sure?" Steinbrenner asked. He was shocked, tense, and starting to sweat.
Callahan explained the situation. He told Steinbrenner that friends of Munson were on the plane with him but had escaped death. They identified the Yankee catcher. Steinbrenner, careful now, quiet, in complete control, asked if the family knew about the crash.
"By now they do," Callahan said. "We just dispatched the police to their home."
Steinbrenner's first call went to Billy Martin's apartment in New Jersey. He was out fishing that afternoon with his young son, Billy Joe, enjoying the light breezes on a friend's boat. The ship-to-shore phone rang with an urgent message, "Call George Steinbrenner immediately."
Martin responded quickly. He got his friend to take him in to the nearest dock, bought his son an ice cream, and moved to a pay phone in a luncheonette.
"George, this is Billy. I got your message to call." "We have just gotten some terrible news," Steinbrenner said. "Thurman has been killed in a plane crash."
Both men broke down. Steinbrenner later recalled that Billy could not control himself as he sobbed on the phone. Steinbrenner collected himself enough to issue another order. "Call me later," he said.
Now Steinbrenner began calling his players. He reached Bobby Murcer, Munson's closest friend, told him the news, and quickly accepted Murcer's decision to fly to Canton with his wife, Kay, to help Diane Munson and the children as best they could. He contacted Lou Piniella. "I couldn't believe it, I didn't want to believe it," Piniella later said. "The whole thing seemed like a nigsource.htmare to me. I expected to go into the clubhouse the next day and see Thurman and realize the whole thing had just been a terrible dream."
From All Roads Lead to October by Maury Allen.
Copyright © 2000 by Maury Allen. Reprinted with permission.