By JENNIFER MEDINA
RENO, Nev. — The fans come here each year looking for, even craving, the thrill they say they get only from seeing planes race at speeds of more than 400 miles per hour. At a small airport at the edge of the city, they tilt their heads skyward for hours, relishing each roar overhead.
And as fans trickled in Monday to line up at the memorial that had cropped along the fence along the airport, a tribute to those who died after a plane crashed into the crowd Friday, they said they were determined to make sure that air races would go on again here next year.
Hospital officials said Monday that a 10th person had died from the crash in which a P-51 Mustang nosedived into the crowd at the National Championship Air Races and Air Show at Reno-Stead Airport. Four other patients were in critical condition at local hospitals.
But the crash did not deter the fans, who came to the memorial with a steely somberness. It was a freakish accident, they said, a one-in-a-million thing. Attending these races is dangerous, sure, they said, but so is driving. What should change? For the most part, they replied, absolutely nothing.
“The show must go on, even with something this tragic,” said Anna Marie Murphy, 44, who has come to the races since she was a child, when her family had a passion for building and flying small planes. She knew eight people who died in plane accidents, including her aunt and uncle, she said.
“I know that people die in this,” she said. “I don’t want it to happen, but I know I have to accept it might. And anyone who comes here better know it, too.”
Each year some 200,000 people attend the event, in which planes race around an eight-mile course. With a combination of air acrobatics and high speeds, the race is far more adrenaline pumping than air shows and car races. Many of the most ardent fans are pilots themselves, who know well the dangers.
“You are open to a certain kind of experience if you come here,” said Ross Kallenberger, a private pilot in Bakersfield, Calif., who saw the crash. He motioned to the vintage planes taking off at that moment. “Can you feel them? How often do you come to an event that you can actually physically feel through your body? There’s nothing like it.”
For the last 17 years, Bob Johnson and Scott Koerner, retired pilots, have come to the event with their wives. The couples, who also witnessed the accident, wore their custom-made polo shirts, with stitching in the back declaring them air race “junkies.” This year, the Koerners paid for their daughter and her husband to fly from Nashville to see the show for the first time. Their son-in-law, Ben Cissell, photographed scenes of the crash that were shown on the “Today” show on Monday.
They thought about the risks now and then, especially when an accident in 2007 scattered debris through the field, in one of three accidents that killed pilots that year.
“You don’t have to be a brain surgeon to realize that there are risks to coming here,” Mr. Johnson said.
His wife, Jan Johnson, believes strongly that the races should continue, and she said she was certain she would return to watch them. “This is a completely one-of-a-kind event, and we love every minute of it,” she said.
The fans were already anticipating new regulations. Would officials try to move the race to a less populated area? Would they place the course farther away from the stands?
But they dismissed those options. Moving a course a mile or two away would hardly matter given the speed of the planes, they reasoned. And being farther away from the city would only increase the risk of spectators getting into car accidents, they said.
The only opening for change may have to come from pilots themselves, said Dennis Gleason, 70, a retired plane mechanic who spent years working for Boeing. The pilot of the plane that crashed, Jimmy Leeward, was 74 and an experienced stunt pilot. Still, Mr. Gleason said, pilots should consider creating a self-imposed age limit.
“You can lose some of your sharpness, some of your reflexes,” Mr. Gleason said. “Those maneuvers are sharp and precise. I’m sure he was an excellent pilot, but you can’t help but wonder if he was alert enough to notice the smallest mistake.”
Ike Shim, 63, traveled from Tokyo for the last seven years to watch the race. The way he sees it, changing the race would be akin to a philosophical defeat.
“Any kind of endeavor that is about human progress is going to have some risk,” Mr. Shim said. “That’s how we move forward and advance. If we stop taking risks, we stop living.”
At least one message left at the memorial seemed to echo Mr. Shim’s sentiment.
“Jimmy’s flying with the best of ’em now,” the card read. It ended with the motto of the Reno races. “Let’s honor him the best way we can: fly low, fly fast and turn left.”
