On the morning of December 18, 2025, the sky over Statesville, North Carolina, was a mosaic of ragged, low-hanging clouds. At 10:15 a.m., a Cessna Citation 550, carrying seven souls—including former NASCAR star Greg Biffle, his family, and veteran pilot Dennis Dutton—took off from Runway 10.
Within minutes, the flight shifted from a routine departure to a battle for survival.
1. “Statesville Traffic… We’ve got an issue”
The first transmission was captured on the Unicom frequency—a shared radio line where pilots at uncontrolled airports self-announce their positions. There was no air traffic controller to guide them, only the open airwaves.
The voice on the radio, speculated to be Jack Dutton (Dennis’s son and a pilot-in-training), was calm but fragmented. “We’ve got an issue with… uh… we’re having trouble with…” The sentence trailed off. In the cockpit, something was clearly overwhelming the crew. Whether it was an engine failure, a baggage door popping open, or a control system malfunction, the plural use of “troubles” suggested a chain reaction of warnings was lighting up the dashboard.
2. “Getting our gear down… Final Runway 28”
The second call signaled a critical, high-stakes decision. Instead of climbing to a safe altitude to troubleshoot, the crew initiated a “teardrop” turn to return to the airport immediately.
They were flying low, ducking in and out of the “ragged” cloud layers. As they turned back toward Runway 28, they lowered the landing gear. To a pilot, this is the “committed” phase. However, in a struggling Citation 550, lowering the gear adds massive drag. If they were already losing power on one engine, the plane would begin to “bleed” speed rapidly. The turn was too tight, the clouds were too thick, and the aircraft was becoming an “anchor” in the sky.
3. “Final… [Silence]”
The third and final transmission was the shortest: “Final.” In aviation, “on final” usually means a stabilized, safe approach. But for Citation 25BW, it was a cry of desperation. ADSB data showed the plane was flying at just 106 knots—dangerously slow for a Citation in distress. They were so low that they struck the approach lights before even reaching the runway.
It was a “Controlled Flight into Terrain” (CFIT). The plane was still flying, still being steered, but it simply did not have the lift or the altitude to clear the obstacles ahead. Then, the radio went silent.
A Legacy of Learning
The crash took seven lives in a matter of seconds. While investigators look for the definitive “why,” the audio recordings leave us with a powerful image of the crew’s character. Even as the cockpit likely shook with vibration and warnings screamed, they never stopped communicating. They warned other pilots to stay clear, and they fought to bring the plane home until the very last second.
