Moments before two small airplanes collided in the skies above a suburban shopping centre near Montreal, air traffic controllers at Saint-Hubert Airport were urgently trying to reach one of the pilots. The radio crackled with warnings that went unanswered, a tense soundtrack to the tragedy that was seconds away.
The midair collision occurred in clear daylight, just a few kilometres from the busy runways of Saint-Hubert, a training hub for student and private pilots. Witnesses on the ground later recalled seeing the aircraft flying unusually close before one suddenly struck the other. A violent burst of debris followed, scattering pieces of metal through the air as one plane plummeted onto the roof of a shopping centre parking lot while the other managed a hard landing nearby.
Inside the control tower, controllers had been tracking both aircraft on radar. One, a Piper Cherokee, was descending toward the airport’s circuit pattern; the other, a Cessna 152, was conducting a training exercise. Both were small, two- or four-seat planes commonly used for instruction. The controllers could see that the two flight paths were converging and immediately tried to warn the pilots. The call went out several times—calm but urgent: “Traffic at your twelve o’clock, same altitude.” For one pilot, the message came too late.
In the seconds that followed, the planes collided midair at about 1,500 feet. The impact tore through the fuselages, leaving one pilot fatally injured. The second pilot, though shaken and injured, managed to keep some control of his aircraft long enough to land near the scene. Emergency crews rushed to the area, fearing a larger disaster as smoke and debris fell dangerously close to shoppers and parked cars.
Investigators from the Transportation Safety Board of Canada (TSB) later arrived to piece together what happened. Early findings suggested both planes had been operating within normal parameters, following visual flight rules (VFR). Under those conditions, pilots are responsible for maintaining separation by sight, relying on visibility and communication with air traffic control. Yet in busy airspace, especially near training airports like Saint-Hubert, visual awareness alone can be unreliable.
Weather on the day of the crash was reported as clear, with good visibility—conditions that should have allowed both pilots to see one another. Investigators instead turned their focus to the communication breakdown. Why did one of the pilots not respond to repeated warnings? Was there a radio malfunction, or did workload and cockpit distraction prevent him from hearing the call? These questions became central to understanding the final moments before the crash.
Residents in the area described the aftermath as chaotic but also miraculous in one respect: despite falling wreckage, no one on the ground was seriously hurt. “It was like something out of a movie,” one witness said. “There was a loud bang, and then we saw pieces coming down.”
The collision above the suburban shopping centre stands as a sobering reminder of how quickly routine flights can turn tragic. Even with experienced controllers, clear skies, and standard procedures, a moment’s missed communication can have devastating consequences.
