When the Classified Crashes…

Near Bakersfield, California

July 11^th, 1986

A Starbound Career…

Ross Mulhare, a 35-year native of Fall River, Massachusetts, had had a interesting career in the Air Force.  After high school, he had attended the Air Force Academy for two years, but left to finish college at the University of Oklahoma with their ROTC unit.  He flew F-5E fighter airplanes in mock combat missions against pilots from Tactical Air Command. From April of 1978 to March of 1980, he had flown Aggressor missions from Nellis AFB, Nevada, followed by F-15 assignments in the United States, and overseas in Germany and Korea.

Married with four children, in 1985 he was assigned to the 4450th Test Squadron - the "Nightstalkers" - of the 4450th Test Group and, by shortly after his birthday, had racked up over 50 hours of flight experience in the F-117A as “Bandit #198” - an honor has received in January of 1986.

In the early morning hours of July 11^th, 1986, Mulhare prepared for a night flight the eastern portion of the San Joaquin Valley in southern California. To a fellow pilot, he complained that he had grown increasingly tired, and "just couldn't shake it." Aboard a Lockheed F-117A, tail number 81-0792 and callsign “Ariel 31”, he took off from the Tonopah Test Range Airport into the clear skies at 1:13 AM on an IFR flight plan.

Given the training nature of the flight, the “Nighthawk” was not running as a radar-avoiding fighter plane. Rather, the plane’s navigation lights were illuminated, and several radar enhancers were placed on the plane to make in show up on the civilian Air Traffic Control radar scopes. In addition, the Nighthawk’s transponder had it squawking as if it were a regular A-7D on a training flight from Tonopah – and not the top-secret military first-strike weapon that it was.

After a turn to the southeast towards the weapons range at Edwards AFB, Mulhare called Los Angeles (LA) Center, requesting and receiving permission to descend down to 17,000 feet. At 1:44 AM, he canceled his IFR flight plan with LA Center. After this cancellation, no further radio communication would be received from Mulhare or his aircraft and, a minute later, it disappeared from radar coverage.

At the same time, a family at a rest stop near Bakersfield observed an unusual-looking aircraft flying in the dark at low altitude. They took pictures of it until it disappeared over a hill, and were then were shocked by a pair of violent explosions. Mulhare’s plane had crashed into the hills northeast of Bakersfield.

A large grass fire was ignited – and it took 16 hours for firefighters to drowse the torched 150 acres. A disaster response team from Nellis was quickly dispatched by their safety officer, but when it was discovered that it was a classified aircraft, they were quickly recalled and a team from Tonopah’s 4450^th Test Group was sent. When the investigators reached the crash site, they found that the crash was so terrible that "structural breakup was almost absolute".

Mulhare's father, Edward A. Mulhare of River Edge, New Jersey, said on July 12, 1986 that his son trained other Air Force pilots "by playing the devil's advocate in the air, by flying like the Soviet pilots fly" and that his work was so secret, “he didn't talk to anyone, including his wife, about it, and had to have a lie-detector test every three months to prove it."

"I just wanted people to know that we consider our son a hero who was doing exactly what he wanted to do, despite the danger involved,'' Mulhare said before boarding a flight to be with his son's family at Nellis AFB.

Given the “Top Secret” nature of the aircraft, his construction, the materials composed of, and its mission, local & federal officials and firefighters at the scene were told by Air Force investigators not to discuss what they had seen or heard at the crash site, signed statements swearing them to secrecy, and were not allowed near the immediate area of the wreckage, which was cordoned off by the Air Force security police, armed with automatic weapons. Also, the crash site was declared a national security area / national defense zone, and a civilian flight restriction, covering an area five miles in radius from the crash site, and at altitudes less than 8,500 feet, illegal.

But the news media knew several things – a plane had crashed, and the military did not want anyone to see or know about it. Nevertheless, the questions flew: In response to reporter's questions, Air Force spokesman Don Haley said, "The Air Force has no comment on what type of aircraft it was, where it came from, what it was doing and its mission." Haley said the Air Force was taking special precautions in releasing information about the crash.

Air Force officials investigating the crash said the aircraft "was not an F-19." General Michael McRaney, head of public affairs for the Air Force, also said the plane was not a bomber – both true statements.

It mattered little, however, because the largest pieces of the Nighthawk were no larger than several inches in size. Recovery operations at the crash site continued nonstop until August 11, 1986, when the Air Force left it, and lifted the National Security Area designation.

Within days, curious hikers, and investigative media, descended upon the crash site to see what had been left of the top-secret aircraft. Small portions were found, but it quickly became rumored that the Air Force, thinking one step ahead, had taken the wreckage of an older F-101 “Voodoo” and scattered it at the site.

The Air Force also used explosives to remove the outline of the F-117 from the terrain, as the aircraft pancaked on an outcropping and left its imprint on the ground, which was clearly visible from the air.

According to the Air Force's mishap report , analysis of the fire pattern, crater size, and scatter pattern of parts indicated that Mulhare's F-117A was in a "high velocity" dive of "no less than 20 degrees and probably in the neighborhood of 60 degrees" and was not tumbling. They also found that the F-117A's engines were running at the time of impact, and an examination of what remained of the ejection system indicated that Major Mulhare had not attempted to bail out.

Investigators determined that the probable cause of the accident had been what the military calls "Controlled Flight Into Terrain” (CFIT) - the pilot had piloted the plane straight into the ground.

The Youth Center at St. Peter the Apostle Roman Catholic Church in River Edge, New Jersey, edicated to the memory of Major Ross E. Mulhare, as well as a park on the city's southern side.