Post Reports: “A teddy bear, an ice skate: What remains from last year's deadly D.C. plane crash”

Date: February 2, 2026
Host: Martine Powers
Guest/Reporter: Emma Uber

Episode Overview

This episode marks the one-year anniversary of the tragic plane crash at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, in which an American Airlines flight was clipped by a Black Hawk helicopter, killing all 67 onboard. Many victims were figure skaters returning from a competition. Reporter Emma Uber shares an intimate, deeply reported story, focusing on the personal items recovered, the experiences of grieving families, and the first responders who carried out the recovery. The episode reflects on loss, the persistence of memory, and the ways survivors and responders seek comfort and closure.

Key Discussion Points and Insights

1. Personal Objects as Enduring Connections ([02:54])

• Personal items found: A brown teddy bear, an ice skate, a wedding ring, a working phone, and a handwritten note—each piece tethering the memory of the victims to their loved ones.
• Alydia Livingston’s teddy bear: The stuffed animal accompanied 11-year-old Olidia everywhere, including to reading lessons and figure skating practice. After the crash, her grandparents requested divers to search specifically for “Brown Teddy.”
  • Quote: “I know there were other things I probably should have asked for, but I wanted Brown Teddy. We had to get Brown Teddy.”
    — Martha Livingston, grandmother ([04:44])

2. The First Response and Recovery Effort ([05:50])

• Scene of chaos and heroism: More than 300 first responders rushed to the Potomac River scene.
  • DC Police Officer Tim Ochenschlager recalls hearing “Crash, crash, crash. This is alert three. Crash. Crash, crash” over the direct line with the airport ([06:43]).
  • Divers worked in frigid water, their iPhones pinged with lost AirTags, reminders of the victims’ unfinished travels.
  • Quote: “Everybody quietly knew that it was something we had never witnessed before.”
    — Robert Varga, DC police diver ([07:38])
  • Quote: “I can still feel it in the back of my throat, the smell of jet fuel.”
    — Tim Ochenschlager ([07:50])
• Immediate realization of loss: Within an hour, it was clear there would be no survivors.
  • First responders shifted their focus to helping families get closure.
  • Quote: “Who are our victims now?... It was the families of those people.”
    — Chief John A. Donnelly Sr., DC Fire and EMS ([08:29])

3. The Families’ Journey to Closure ([11:52])

• Full recovery of victims: By February 4, all 67 victims’ remains were recovered and identified.
  • Quote: “There was nothing more important to us... Everything we did was to ensure that families could have some form of closure.”
    — Lindsay Appiah, DC’s Deputy Mayor for Public Safety and Justice ([12:33])
• Medical examiner’s role: The process, while scientifically smooth, was emotionally grueling.
  • Chief Medical Examiner Francisco Diaz, who had handled mass casualties before, said this case’s interaction with families was profoundly different.
  • Quote: “The medical examiner cannot bring anybody back to life. All you can do is provide a little respite.”
    — Francisco Diaz ([13:29])
  • Notable moment: A grieving mother asked Diaz, “Can I touch you? You were the last person to touch my son.”
• Extended ripples of loss: Families share stories of missing loved ones in everyday routines—the “year of firsts.”
  • Notable personal stories:
    • Kylie Pitcher faces her first winter without her husband Jesse, realizing all the small things he once did ([14:22]).
    • Chris Collins’ instinct to text his brother Matt with football scores, and Hamad Raza’s memories of his wife Oster Hussein, lost in the crash.

4. Remembrance and Storytelling ([15:30])

• Healing through stories: Martha and Chris Livingston keep family traditions alive by compiling photo books, but now two grandchildren are missing. Martha authors a new story from the perspective of Brown Teddy, Lydia’s cherished bear.
  • The story gently explains the crash and its aftermath.
  • Quote: “The Bear... is joyful and sorrowful at the same time.”
    — Martha Livingston, via Brown Teddy’s story ([16:44])

Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• Martha Livingston on Brown Teddy:
  “I know there were other things I probably should have asked for, but I wanted Brown Teddy. We had to get Brown Teddy… To get Brown Teddy back to me, it was my connection to them.” ([04:44])
• Robert Varga, diver:
  “Everybody quietly knew that it was something we had never witnessed before.” ([07:38])
• John A. Donnelly Sr., Fire Chief:
  “Who are our victims now? We don’t have anybody to save from the plane or the helicopter. It was the families of those people... We needed to make sure we supported the families and got them reunited with their loved ones. That was number one.” ([08:29])
• Chief Medical Examiner Diaz:
  “The medical examiner cannot bring anybody back to life. All you can do is provide a little respite.” ([13:29])
  • (After a meeting) “Can I touch you? You were the last person to touch my son.” ([13:51])
• Kylie Pitcher, widow:
  “It’s the year of the firsts.” ([14:34])
• Martha Livingston’s story:
  “The Bear… is joyful and sorrowful at the same time.” ([16:44])

Segment Timestamps

• [00:41] Martine Powers introduces the story and the reporting focus
• [02:54] Emma Uber narrates the opening, focusing on the teddy bear and other artifacts
• [05:50] The response, the role of divers, and first responder accounts
• [11:52] The recovery, the medical examiner’s process, and lingering grief
• [15:30] Families’ remembrance, the storytelling through Brown Teddy

Tone & Style

The episode is solemn yet compassionate, favoring storytelling built from firsthand experiences. The reporting is empathetic, occasionally raw, exercising restraint and respect for the subject matter. The tone is woven from Emma Uber’s story, first-person interviews, and moments of unfiltered grief and hope.

Summary Takeaway

Through recovered relics—a child’s teddy bear, a skater’s ice boot, a simple loving note—the episode paints an intimate portrait of tragic loss and the communal work toward healing and honoring memory. The focus on personal objects and the compassionate response of officials and first responders reveal not just the horror of the event, but the depth of connection and care forged in its aftermath. The story is a meditation on grief, closure, and the persistence of love.