Luxury Challenger Jet Crashes in Bangor Snowstorm, Killing Six; Deicing Timing Under Scrutiny

A takeoff that ended in flames

On a bitter Sunday night in Bangor, Maine, as snow swept across a brightly lit runway and the temperature hovered near 1 degree above zero, a sleek Bombardier Challenger 650 began its takeoff roll toward the dark sky.

Seconds later, the business jet was upside down and on fire.

By the time airport firefighters reached the wreckage along Runway 33 at Bangor International Airport on Jan. 25, all six people on board—two Texas pilots and four passengers bound for France’s Champagne region—were dead.

The crash of the jet, registered as N10KJ, has become Bangor’s deadliest aviation accident and the worst in Maine in four decades. It has also focused attention on a technical but critical aspect of winter flying: how much time a deiced airplane really has before snow and ice can again threaten its ability to generate lift.

A corporate jet, a snowstorm and unanswered questions

The Challenger 650, built in 2020, was operated for Arnold & Itkin, a prominent Houston-based plaintiffs’ law firm, through a related company, KTKJ Challenger LLC.

On Jan. 25, the jet departed Houston’s William P. Hobby Airport on a long-planned work trip. Its four passengers were traveling on behalf of Beyond, an ultra-luxury travel venture co-founded by attorney Tara Arnold and her husband, firm co-founder Kurt Arnold. The group was headed to France for a site visit in the Champagne region, with a refueling and deicing stop scheduled in Bangor.

The flight arrived in Maine at about 6:09 p.m. and parked at the general aviation terminal. Outside, a winter storm was moving through. Snow was falling, visibility was limited, and temperatures were well below freezing.

Ground crews applied both deicing and anti-icing fluids to the Challenger between roughly 7:17 p.m. and 7:36 p.m. The jet then taxied to Runway 33.

At about 7:44 p.m., radar and tracking data show the aircraft accelerating down the runway. Near rotation speed—about 150 knots of groundspeed and roughly 1,760 meters into the takeoff roll—the jet veered to the right, became briefly airborne, then rapidly lost control and came down inverted near the runway, where it caught fire.

Airport marketing manager Aimee Thibodeau said that based on the flight manifest, “six people were on the plane and all were presumed deceased; no one was transported to the hospital.”

Investigators have recovered the cockpit voice recorder and flight data recorder. A preliminary report from the National Transportation Safety Board is expected within 30 days of the crash, but a full determination of cause typically takes a year or more.

For now, federal officials are offering few conclusions.

“The NTSB is investigating the Jan. 25 crash of a Bombardier CL-600 airplane in Bangor, Maine,” the agency said in a brief public statement, using the technical model designation for the Challenger 650. The board has emphasized that it does not speculate on causes during the on-scene phase of an investigation.

A deadly night for a law firm, a startup and two pilots

The crash tore through tightly knit communities in Texas and beyond.

One of the passengers was Tara Arnold, 42, a Texas attorney who helped build Arnold & Itkin into a nationally known trial firm and who more recently co-founded Beyond, which markets bespoke trips costing up to tens of thousands of dollars per night. She and her husband had pledged $40 million to the University of Texas, making them significant figures in higher-education philanthropy.

Also on board was Shelby Kuyawa, 34, an advanced sommelier known in Houston’s high-end restaurant and wine circles and brought into Beyond to design elite wine experiences for affluent clients.

Chef Nick Mastrascusa, 43, had traveled from Hawaii to work with Beyond on its culinary offerings. Friends and colleagues have described him as a creative force in luxury hospitality.

The fourth passenger, Shawna Collins, 53, an event planner who worked for Lakewood Church in Houston, was collaborating with Beyond on high-end events that blended faith and lifestyle audiences.

In the cockpit, Capt. Jacob Hosmer, 47, was serving as pilot in command. Co-pilot Jorden Reidel, 33, a Texas-based aviator with airplane and helicopter ratings, was also killed. Public tributes have noted that Reidel left behind a young daughter.

The law firm said none of its partners were aboard and that Kurt Arnold was not on the flight.

Bangor shut down, and a recovery slowed by snow

The impact on Bangor, a former military base turned joint-use commercial airport, was immediate.

Airport, city fire and police crews rushed to the scene, but the jet was already engulfed. Accumulating snow quickly covered much of the wreckage. Authorities closed Bangor International Airport shortly after the crash and kept it shut for days while the NTSB, the Federal Aviation Administration and local officials secured the scene and began their work.

Airport officials said dozens of commercial arrivals and departures were canceled or diverted during the closure, which lasted until midday Jan. 29. Bangor serves as an important regional hub and as a diversion and fuel stop for transatlantic flights.

The conditions complicated not only the investigation but also the grim task of recovering remains. Wreckage and bodies stayed on the airfield for several days, something that drew public attention and concern. Officials have said the delay reflected the need to protect evidence in a storm-buried scene.

When the airport reopened, management issued a statement thanking airlines, tenants and the Transportation Security Administration “for their patience, understanding and support” and noted that counseling services were being offered to staff and first responders.

Deicing, “holdover time” and a known vulnerability

While investigators have not announced any conclusions, aviation experts say the Bangor crash fits a pattern they know well: a high-performance jet departing in active winter weather, with lingering questions about snow and ice on critical surfaces.

Before departure, the Challenger was sprayed with two types of fluids. Type I is heated and used to remove existing ice and snow. Type IV is thicker and intended to prevent new accumulation for a limited “holdover” period, which varies depending on air temperature, precipitation rate and mixture concentration.

If an airplane waits too long after being treated—especially in heavy or persistent precipitation—ice and snow can build up again on the wings, degrading lift and increasing stall speed. For some aircraft, including the Challenger 600 series, regulators and operators have long recognized that even thin contamination can be dangerous.

Early analyses by pilot groups and safety commentators, citing the publicly known timeline, have zeroed in on the roughly eight minutes between the end of anti-icing around 7:36 p.m. and the beginning of the takeoff roll at 7:44 p.m., as well as the intensity of the snowfall and the extreme cold. Some have suggested those conditions could have pushed or exceeded the effective holdover time for the fluids used.

The NTSB has not endorsed those assessments, and there is no public evidence yet regarding the exact state of the aircraft’s wings at the moment of rotation. Investigators are expected to examine fluid application procedures, manufacturer guidance, and what the pilots knew about holdover limits that night.

They will also analyze maintenance records, aircraft systems and crew decision-making, including whether any cockpit indications or outside observations might have warranted a delay or a rejected takeoff.

A delayed arrival and confused early reports

The winter storm that covered the wreckage also slowed the federal response. NTSB investigators did not physically reach the crash site for about 38 hours, traveling to Bangor on Jan. 27.

Asked about the lag, NTSB spokespersons have said investigators must travel safely and that substantive work often begins well before they arrive on-scene, through remote data collection and coordination with local authorities.

“Just because they’re not on scene doesn’t mean they’re not doing investigative work,” one official said.

There was also confusion in the first hours about how many people had died.

In its initial bulletin, the FAA said eight people were aboard the Challenger and reported seven fatalities and one person seriously injured. That information was quickly repeated by national and local outlets. Bangor police and airport officials later corrected the record, confirming that six people were listed on the manifest and that there were no survivors.

The discrepancy highlighted the difficulty of getting accurate information in the chaotic aftermath of a crash, especially when visibility is low and a fire destroys much of the aircraft.

The NTSB has reiterated that it has “no role in the release of the identities of accident victims,” noting that responsibility lies with local medical examiners and law enforcement.

A rare disaster and a broader reckoning

Maine has not seen an aviation disaster of this scale in decades. The last time more people were killed in a single crash in the state was in 1985, when Bar Harbor Airlines Flight 1808 went down in Auburn, killing eight.

For Bangor, the Challenger accident is the deadliest on record and follows a 2024 small-plane crash and a World War II-era military accident, making it the third fatal aviation disaster connected to the city.

Beyond the local shock, the crash is drawing attention across the corporate aviation sector. Business jets like the Challenger 650 are a staple for law firms, private companies and wealthy individuals, operating under different rules than scheduled airlines but often in similarly demanding conditions.

Insurers, operators and regulators are expected to scrutinize winter operations in the wake of the Bangor accident, including how holdover times are calculated and enforced, how crews are trained to recognize and respond to contamination risks, and whether company pressures to stay on schedule play any role.

Families of those killed—including the families of the pilots—may eventually bring wrongful-death lawsuits, depending on what investigators find. Potential targets could include the aircraft’s operator, deicing service providers, and others involved in the flight’s preparation. Any claims tied to aircraft design would likely hinge on future NTSB conclusions about whether mechanical or aerodynamic factors beyond procedure played a role.

For now, the focus remains on a snow-covered runway in Maine and a set of questions that will not be answered quickly.

Bangor’s airport has reopened. The scorch marks have faded under fresh plowings of snow. But in Houston, Hawaii, and communities in between, relatives, colleagues and parishioners are still waiting to learn why a modern business jet, freshly deiced and loaded for a transatlantic journey, lifted off into the January night and never truly climbed.