Air crash victim remembered as compassionate tough guy

Published 12:01 am Wednesday, September 21, 2011

To his friends, Greg Morcom was the protector.

He was the funny tough guy. When they needed him, he was the first one on their doorstep.

Morcom, 47, of Marysville, died last week after a World War II-era fighter plane crashed into the crowd at the National Championship Air Races in Reno. The death toll from the crash rose to 11 on Tuesday.

Morcom grew up and lived in Bellevue, working construction until about six months ago, said his friend, Carmen Cubine, 44. The two had been friends since they were teenagers.

This year, Morcom moved to Marysville to take care of his parents, who are in their mid-70s.

Morcom was the life of every party, Cubine said. He had a big personality and a soft heart. He was protective of everyone around him.

He was hilarious, she said.

“You could always count on something to come out of his mouth that was going to make the whole room smile,” she said. “He’d throw zingers at his friends and sometimes he was a little off-color, but that was him and he could get away with it.”

Greg Morcom’s oldest brother, Ron Morcom, 53, just got back from Reno. Several other family members also suffered minor injuries in the crash.

The Morcom family is made up of aviation enthusiasts, many of whom have their pilot’s licenses, Ron Morcom said. They’ve had box seats at the races for more than 20 years.

The family is doing the best it can, Ron Morcom said. Greg’s death has been especially difficult for his parents.

“It’s an up and down situation,” he said. “There are hours where it’s OK and they’ve got their minds on something else, and then there’s other times when it hits them pretty hard.”

Greg Morcom did everything his parents needed, Ron Morcom said. He took care of their dogs and did the yardwork.

The brothers went snowmobiling a couple of times a year. Mount Baker was Greg Morcom’s favorite place.

Greg Morcom had a lot of friends and gravitated toward people who were “footloose and fancy-free,” Ron Morcom said.

“He fit in pretty well with everyone,” he said.

The Morcoms traveled to Reno with Dale Terwedo, 52, an Edmonds-based financial adviser. Terwedo is a good friend of Ron Morcom.

The afternoon of the crash, Terwedo was in the booth with the Morcoms and some family friends. An avid pilot himself, Terwedo knew that pilots sometimes respond to trouble by making their planes climb higher. But when the pilot of the 65-year-old “Galloping Ghost” pulled up, it was all wrong.

The P-51 Mustang did a barrel roll then plunged back toward earth, he said.

“We’re looking right down the barrel of that plane,” Terwedo said. “It was coming right at us. In your head you’re looking at this thinking is this real? And then, oh crap, this isn’t any good. He’s not going to miss us.”

He estimates spectators had half a second before the plane hit. He started to dive away. The blast slammed him to the ground, bounced his head against the pavement and doused him with jet fuel and oil.

“What I felt was my back was stinging, it was warm and it was wet,” he said. “My first thought after this happened was well I didn’t die, but my back is torn up and my head was in a pool of blood.”

Terwedo’s injuries were minor, but when he got up, he saw carnage around him.

He found a first aid station, where they washed him off. He felt like a shorebird after an oil spill, he said. He knew that if the plane had caught fire, he and many others would have died.

Oak Harbor resident Ralph Corbin, 77, watched the races from the same booth as George and Wendy Hewitt, a former Bellingham couple also killed by the crash.

They were spectators in a box for the Cascade Warbirds, an association of vintage military plane enthusiasts.

Corbin, a retired Air Force flight engineer, figured he needed to get out of the sun. Earlier, the Hewitts had urged him to use sunscreen to protect his skin.

Corbin and his son and a nephew decided to get some drinks and watch from a cooler, shadier spot in a hospitality hangar in the pit area.

“We said goodbye to the Hewitts,” he said. “They were going to go down, too, but they apparently went back.”

Corbin said he nearly left his jacket and camera behind with the intention of coming back to watch the final race of the day. His son and nephew convinced him otherwise.

Corbin, who has flown aircraft for 54 years, witnessed the crash and knew instantly he was lucky to be alive.

“We would have been killed,” he said. “It was just a big crater. There was just nothing left.”

Corbin said he feels fortunate for his family and deep sadness for those who died and were injured.

The tragic events of that day could have been worse, he said.

“The only godsend was there was no explosion,” Corbin said. “There was plenty of fuel around. I expected a big fireball, but thank goodness that didn’t happen.”

The Associated Press contributed to this report.