Love of aviation transcends fatal crash

The light twinkles in Carol Fiore's eyes as she talks about her late husband, Eric.

That light was smothered on Oct. 10, 2000, when Eric Fiore was critically burned in the crash of a Bombardier Challenger 604 test flight at Wichita Mid-Continent Airport. He died 36 days later, on Nov. 15, 2000. Test pilot Bryan Irelan, 33, and flight engineer David Riggs, 48, died in the crash.

Fiore, who lives in Colorado, is in Wichita this weekend for the 10th anniversary of the crash, doggedly pursuing her passion: Making sure that people know about the fiery Italian test pilot who was the bedrock of her life.

Fiore's search for the light through the darkness of her grief is the subject of a book, "Flight Through Fire," that's in the hands of a literary agent. She's confident it will soon be published.

Fiore, who is also a pilot, will speak at 3 p.m. today at the Hangar One Steakhouse to a reunion of the Society of Experimental Test Pilots and the Society of Flight Test Engineers.

"It only takes a minute for an event to cripple your life forever," said Fiore. "You never see it coming, never expect it, never quite believe it really happened until you're caught in the turbulence and spin wildly, crashing into the side of a mountain."

"You will probably continue on, but you will be less than you were before. And more."

Eric's death devastated the family. Fiore said her father-in-law, Chris Fiore, "hasn't been in good shape" since the accident.

"My oldest, the first thing she asked was, 'Who's going to walk me down the aisle?' At 13 years old," Fiore said, shaking her head.

"And as my mother-in-law says, parents aren't supposed to bury their children."

One way to fight that devastation, she said, is to work daily to honor Eric's dedication to aviation and to his employer, Bombardier.

"One of the main reasons I wanted to come back to Wichita was to remind people that 10 years ago, there were three guys who gave their lives to make the skies safer," she said. "I think that all of us who fly owe them that."

She's defiant about honoring that dedication, so much so that she swept aside questions about why her family didn't join the lawsuit filed against Bombardier in 2002 by Irelan's estate.

"Eric had two wishes when he died," she said. "One was that I honor aviation and not be the whining, blaming wife. The other was that I tell the world about him."

Honoring Eric

Fiore's book is the story of Eric's final days, as he lost the battle with his burns in the Via Christi Regional Burn Center.

The book also is a big step in a promise she made to her husband: To tell people about a little boy who wanted to fly "high and fast in the sky," a "complicated, brilliant, wickedly funny, sometimes controlling man who loved with an astonishing depth."

And it's the story of a "red-headed backward girl searching for acceptance and love" who continues struggling to escape the darkness of Eric's death.

The grief was paralyzing for a woman whose life with Eric was a partnership based in love and learning, Fiore said.

"After the funeral ... I got in bed and stayed there for most of the following year, barely able to care for our two girls (Tia, now 23, and Robin, now 20) but somehow managing to write a website and set up scholarship funds in Eric's memory," she said.

Fiore said the grief has abated only slightly. She compared it to a "long trek through a darkened cave.

"I am still in that cave, though light glimmers, occasionally pulsing brightly at odd moments," she said.

One glimmer of light is the book, a "daunting undertaking" for a professional zookeeper with multiple science degrees.

"The science geek inside me, the one with the three degrees, insisted I couldn't write because I wasn't an English major, but I drove the voice down," Fiore said. "I'd made a promise to Eric to tell the world about him. The promise drove me."

So she began collecting university writing credits, learning from workshops and writing coaches while wading through books.

And after several rejection letters, literary agent George Bick at the Doug Grad Literary Agency in New York City bought into the book.

"My children told me, 'Daddy would be proud,' " Fiore said, beaming.

The brightest light

The light shines brightly at times, Fiore said. Like a day in May at Sheppard Air Force Base in Wichita Falls, Texas, when she attended the 25th reunion of Eric's flight training class in the Air Force.

"Of all the things I've tried to do over the last 10 years to get better, that helped the most because I went out there and instead of tears, there was a lot of laughter and jokes and toasting and staying up until 3 in the morning," Fiore said.

There, she found a table in the Officer's Club featuring Eric's carved signature.

"All of a sudden, with the stories and knowing how much Eric loved aviation and seeing his bold signature in that table, it said to me that the man was doing what he wanted to do," Fiore said.

"He was loving it. Aviation was Eric's life ... And how many people get to do exactly what they wanted to do?"

This story was originally published October 10, 2010 at 12:00 AM with the headline "Love of aviation transcends fatal crash."