In the vast and unforgiving wilderness of Alaska, the story of 38-year-old Dr. James Edward Harbin unfolded in September of 1976. He and a friend, Harold Lyle, had flown into the remote southern part of the Alaskan Peninsula for a hunting trip. Their adventure took a perilous turn when the tail wheel of their single-engine red and white Citabria aircraft, with tail number N5VB, was damaged.
Faced with a critical decision, Harbin resolved to fly the plane alone back to Iliamna for repairs, leaving Lyle behind at their campsite with the intention of returning for him the next day. This departure, on September 13, 1976, from the rugged landscape near Lake Clark, would be the last time anyone would see Dr. Harbin.
The plan was born of necessity, a makeshift solution to a problem that had stranded them deep in the wilderness. To get the damaged plane airborne from the rough terrain, Harbin and Lyle had to work together in a desperate maneuver. With the engine roaring, Lyle ran alongside the taxiing aircraft, holding the tail up long enough for the plane to gain sufficient speed for takeoff. The lightened aircraft, free of the weight of two men, their gear, and the caribou they had hunted, successfully lifted off. As Harbin piloted the Citabria towards civilization, the weather began to deteriorate, a common and dangerous reality of Alaskan aviation. Later that evening, at approximately 9:55 PM, Kenai flight services received a garbled mayday call from Harbin in the Lake Clark Pass area. The distress call indicated that the plane was losing altitude due to ice accumulation on the wings, a treacherous condition for any pilot.
The mayday call triggered an extensive search and rescue operation. Hundreds of hours were spent scouring the mountainous and glacial terrain of Lake Clark Pass, a rugged and remote area between Drift River and the West Forelands. Despite the exhaustive efforts of search teams, no trace of Dr. Harbin or his red and white Citabria was ever found. The prevailing theory among those involved in the search was that the aircraft likely crashed into a mountainside, possibly becoming buried in a glacier, which would explain the lack of wreckage. The disappearance of Dr. James Harbin remains a somber mystery, a story of a planned short flight for repairs that ended in a presumed tragedy amidst the stark beauty and inherent dangers of the Alaskan wilderness, leaving behind unanswered questions and a friend who was eventually rescued after days of waiting in the desolate outback.Last Seen: Sep 13, 1976
