The haunting final moments of Alaska Airlines Flight 261

Plane crashes are always terrifying to read about — but few are as nightmarish as Alaska Airlines Flight 261.

Now, 25 years after the aircraft plunged into the Pacific Ocean, newly released cockpit audio is sending chills down spines.

A chilling reminder

It was supposed to be a routine flight. On January 31, 2000, Alaska Airlines Flight 261 took off from the palm tree-lined Puerto Vallarta airport, Mexico, heading for Seattle with a stop in San Francisco.

On board were 88 souls — passengers returning home, families on vacation, seasoned crew members doing a job they’d done countless times before.

But what was meant to be a normal journey turned into an unthinkable tragedy. The plane never made it to its final destination.

Wikipedia Commons / Frank Jäger

Instead, it plunged into the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Southern California, claiming the lives of all 88 people onboard — including 83 passengers, three cabin crew members, and both pilots.

The tragedy of Alaska Airlines Flight 261 isn’t just another entry in aviation history — it’s a haunting chapter that refuses to fade. It stands as a chilling reminder of how a single overlooked detail can unravel into full-blown disaster.

A workhorse of commercial aviation

To truly grasp what unfolded on January 31, 2000, we can’t just focus on that final, heartbreaking plunge into the Pacific. We have to go back—back to the blueprint, to the mechanics, to decisions made long before the wheels ever left the runway.

The aircraft in question was a McDonnell Douglas MD-83, a descendant of the DC-9. The plane has been described as a workhorse of commercial aviation, and was introduced back in 1965.

While upgrades had been made, many of the critical components — especially in the tail section — remained unchanged. This included the jackscrew, a mechanism that adjusts the angle of the horizontal stabilizer, allowing the plane to pitch up or down. It’s vital for trimming the aircraft, especially during long flights. Without it, the plane becomes nearly impossible to control.

This jackscrew assembly was meant to be durable, and the manufacturer insisted it had redundancies. But the truth was more complicated. The nut inside the system, made of a softer metal than the screw itself, would naturally wear down first, and keeping it greased was crucial.

Yet over time, maintenance intervals were stretched, checks delayed, and what was once a safety priority became a checkbox in an evolving maintenance schedule.

Heroic pilots

Alaska Airlines Flight 261 was being manned by Captain Ted Thompson, 53, and First Officer Bill Tansky, 57. Combined, they had over 12,000 flight hours in MD-80 series jets — an immense amount of experience.

But On January 31, even their skill wouldn’t be enough.

Everything appeared normal until the aircraft reached about 31,000 feet. Then the stabilizer jammed. Bill disengaged the autopilot and began flying manually.

The aircraft became difficult to control, requiring significant force to maintain altitude. They ran through checklists, spoke to operations, and even considered having instructor pilots guide them from the ground. Eventually, they decided to divert to Los Angeles.

And then — the moment that changed everything.

Final act of bravery

While trying to troubleshoot the issue, Captain Thompson engaged multiple switches related to the stabilizer trim system. The worn Acme nut — already holding on by a thread — finally failed.

The stabilizer shifted to its full nose-down position, and the aircraft violently pitched forward.

“We’re in a dive,” Captain Thompson radioed. Then he corrected himself: “Not a dive yet, but we’ve lost vertical control of our airplane.”

First Officer Tansky added grimly: “No we don’t.”

They managed to pull out of the initial dive, displaying incredible strength and skill. But the plane was fatally damaged. The jackscrew mechanism broke completely.

In a final act of bravery, Thompson rolled the plane upside down — flying inverted in a desperate attempt to regain control. It was a move few pilots could have executed, let alone under such pressure.

But it wasn’t enough.

The aircraft slammed into the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Southern California, killing all 88 on board.

A harrowing sight

Nearby aircraft were asked to keep an eye on Flight 261. One pilot radioed in:
“Just started to do a big, huge plunge.”

A second pilot confirmed, saying the jet was “definitely in a nose down position.”

Moments later, both reported the unthinkable: the plane had hit the water. There were no survivors.

The grease that wasn’t there

When investigators retrieved the flight data recorders and the remains of the jackscrew, what they found was horrifying. The threads on the Acme nut were almost completely gone — sheared off. And more shocking than anything else:

There was no grease. At all.

Years of deferred maintenance, altered procedures, and unchecked wear had silently set the stage for disaster.

The NTSB concluded:

“The probable cause of this accident was a loss of airplane pitch control resulting from the in-flight failure of the horizontal stabilizer trim system jackscrew assembly’s Acme nut threads. The thread failure was caused by excessive wear resulting from Alaska Airline’s insufficient lubrication of the jackscrew assembly.”

In total, 24 safety recommendations were issued, aimed at Alaska Airlines and the FAA, covering maintenance schedules, inspection requirements, and how critical systems should be monitored.

Heroes remembered

Notable passengers who tragically died in the crash include author Jean Gandesbery and her husband Robert; financial talk show host Cynthia Oti; wine columnist Tom Stockley and his wife Margaret; and Morris Thompson, former Alaska Bureau of Indian Affairs commissioner, along with his wife Thelma and daughter Sheryl.

Captain Thompson and First Officer Tansky were posthumously awarded the Air Line Pilots Association Gold Medal for Heroism. Their extraordinary efforts that day, under unimaginable pressure, serve as a lasting testament to their skill, courage, and professionalism.

Their final flight is more than a story of loss — it’s a stark warning of what happens when safety takes a back seat to convenience.

But it’s also a story of valor. Of two pilots who refused to give up and of a tragedy that shook an industry — and a legacy that still echoes 25 years later.

READ MORE