Today, Reba McEntire is 68 years old, and she truly deserves all the praise she gets. It feels like she has been part of my life forever, and I still listen to her music several times a week.
However, Reba’s life hasn’t always been easy. This year marks the 32nd anniversary of a tragic plane crash that took the lives of several of her friends.
After breaking into country music in the late 1970s and early 1980s, Reba McEntire was named “best singer” for four years in a row by the Country Music Association. She also has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
But despite her amazing career and success, Reba has faced many personal challenges. In 2022, her mother, Jacqueline, lost her battle with cancer at the age of 93.
“She had a wonderful, full, healthy life and was absolutely ready to go. The cancer might think it won the battle, but we’re giving God all the credit for choosing the time for her to go home,” the country star wrote on social media.
Jacqueline McEntire always dreamed of being a professional country singer, and she was the one who taught Reba to sing, fulfilling her ambitions through her daughter.
“She left knowing how much she is loved, and we all know how much she loved us. We’re all going to miss her, but we have so many wonderful memories,” Reba said.
Reba truly understands what it means to face sorrow and loss.
Thirty-two years ago, on March 16, Reba McEntire lost seven of her band members and her tour manager in a tragic plane crash after a concert.
I remember that day in 1991. I was driving to work and heard about the crash on the radio. My heart skipped a beat when I thought Reba was also on the plane.
But she wasn’t.
Reba and her band had performed in San Diego on March 16, 1991, and were heading to Fort Wayne, Indiana, for their next concert on the tour.
Two planes were waiting at the airport in San Diego. The band members and tour manager flew on ahead while Reba, her husband, and her manager stayed overnight in San Diego.
The first plane tragically crashed just ten miles east of the airport.
Over the years, Reba has often remembered her lost friends.
In a heartfelt interview with Oprah Winfrey in 2012, she talked about the day her band died.
“The tip of the wing of the airplane hit a rock on the side of Otay Mountain, and it killed everyone on the plane,” McEntire told Winfrey.
“When we were notified, Narvel (Reba’s manager) went to meet with our pilot, and he told us what had happened. Narvel came back to the hotel room where I was — it was two or three o’clock in the morning — and he said one of the planes had crashed. I asked, ‘Are they OK?’ He said, ‘I don’t think so.’ I asked, ‘But you’re not sure?’ He said, ‘I don’t think so.’”
Reba had tears in her eyes as she remembered the details of the tragedy.
“Narvel was going room to room with a phone and calling…” she began, pausing as tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry — it’s been 20 years, but it’s just like — I don’t guess it ever quits hurting,” she said. “But I can see that room. I can see Narvel walking back and forth.”
Now, 32 years have passed since the crash. Recently, she shared a photo of her band on Instagram to remember the tragic events of that day.
In 2020, she also paid tribute to her friends.
“29 years ago today, I lost my friends in a plane crash. The timing of Mama’s passing with that anniversary seems appropriate,” she wrote.
“I know they’re all in Heaven together and taking care of each other. Let’s keep finding ways to take care of each other down here on earth and never take one moment with our loved ones for granted.”
Reba’s fans quickly offered their support to the country star. Many sent positive thoughts and prayers.
“Reba, I’ve always loved your music, our shared horse background, and now following you on Insta. Prayers for you and your mother,” one fan wrote.
In 2023, Reba showed once again that she will never forget her friends and still mourns their tragic loss.
“Their love for music and the stage gives us all the strength to go on,” she wrote, sharing a video of the group performing together.
This Caribbean Island Is Back From the Brink—and Ready To Share Its Treasures With the World
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The paintings of Italian-born artist Agostino Brunias, who made a profession of depicting the island in subdued, stylized settings that covered up the harsh realities of colonial control, were my first visual introduction to Dominica. However, as soon as I step onto its winding roads, which begin to twist shortly after I arrive, it becomes evident that this region, which is situated in the center of the Lesser Antilles’ curve, is anything but tame. The two-toned leaves of its bois canot trees, which change color from green to white when they sway in the wind, shimmer and bristle with the power of the volcano. It lulls with the erratic sound of its numerous waterfalls, scatters rainbows haphazardly across its breathtaking horizons, and enchants from the depths with its vibrant coral reefs. And it roars come storm season.
The indigenous Kalinago people of Dominica survived invasion by the French and British, who imposed slavery on the Africans who now make up four-fifths of the island’s population and left a linguistic legacy of English and French-based Creole, by mastering the lush tropical rainforest that covers more than 60% of the island. If you visit Trinidad for roti and Jamaica for jerk, you should travel to Dominica for green things like bush rum and flower teas. There are a ton of medicinal herbs in the forest.
The Jungle Bay Dominica resort, located smack dab in the center of the Soufrière jungles, leans into nature instead, maybe realizing the futility of fighting against the earth’s generosity. When I finally get there, the kitchen is closed. Joanne Hilaire, the operations manager, tells me that they never let guests go hungry, though, so I can feel the warmth of Dominica’s welcome. The cook is preparing an excellently stewed dish of beans with taro, rice, and plantain for our late dinner, off the menu, while I have a refreshing ginger-lime cocktail that is a local favorite. When I wake up the following morning, I find that my villa’s doors open onto a private veranda that faces southwest toward Soufrière Bay, where the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean converge. I let the light wake me for the remainder of my stay by leaving my blinds open.
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