A routine flight over the rolling hills of central Missouri turned into a heart-stopping nightmare Tuesday when a single-engine Cessna 172 plummeted from the sky and burst into flames – yet both men on board walked away like nothing happened. Pilot Mark Reynolds, 58, and his passenger David Harlan, 62, emerged from the twisted, burning wreckage near a rural road in Callaway County with zero injuries, leaving first responders stunned and the pair calling it nothing short of divine intervention.

The dramatic crash unfolded around 2:45 p.m. on November 12, 2025, just minutes after the 1978 Cessna took off from Jefferson City Memorial Airport for what was supposed to be a short sightseeing hop. According to preliminary FAA reports, Reynolds radioed air traffic control that he was experiencing engine trouble almost immediately after takeoff. Witnesses on the ground described hearing the engine sputter, then watching in horror as the white-and-blue plane nosedived into a wooded area off Highway 54, slamming belly-first before flipping and catching fire.

“I looked up and saw it coming straight down like a rock,” said local farmer Jerry Kline, who was plowing a nearby field. “I thought for sure nobody was walking out of that.” Kline raced to the scene with a fire extinguisher from his truck and found Reynolds and Harlan already standing on the roadside, dazed but remarkably calm. “They were brushing dirt off their jackets, talking about how lucky they were,” Kline told local station KRCG. “I’ve seen bad wrecks before – this one should’ve been fatal.”

Bodycam footage released by the Missouri State Highway Patrol shows troopers arriving to a fully engulfed aircraft, flames shooting 20 feet high as ammunition from Harlan’s hunting rifle cooked off inside the cockpit. Yet there stood the two men, hands on hips, watching their plane burn. “Today was a miracle,” Reynolds told troopers on scene. “God had his hands on us.” Harlan, a retired firefighter from Fulton, added: “I’ve been in burning buildings – never thought I’d walk away from a plane crash without a scratch.”

Investigators say the Cessna lost power at about 800 feet, giving Reynolds mere seconds to attempt an emergency landing. Instead of trying to glide back to the airport – a maneuver that often ends badly in total engine failure – he aimed for an open patch between trees. The plane clipped treetops, shearing off wings before belly-flopping and sliding 150 feet. The impact was so violent that the engine was ripped from its mounts and flung 50 yards away. Both men were wearing seat belts and shoulder harnesses – a factor experts say likely saved their lives.

“These guys won the lottery twice,” said NTSB investigator Sarah Kline (no relation to the farmer) at a Wednesday press conference. “First, they survived impact forces that exceeded 20Gs. Second, they got out before the post-crash fire consumed the cockpit.” The FAA has grounded similar Cessna 172s with the same Lycoming engine pending inspection, though the exact cause – possibly fuel contamination or mechanical failure – remains under investigation.

Reynolds, a commercial pilot with over 8,000 hours, has flown everything from crop dusters to corporate jets. Friends describe him as “old-school cautious,” always preaching seat belts and emergency prep. Harlan, his brother-in-law, was along for a quick deer-scouting flight ahead of Missouri’s firearms season opener this weekend. Neither man sought medical treatment, though both were checked by paramedics who found only minor bruises.

Social media exploded with the story after passenger Harlan’s son posted the bodycam clip on X, racking up 4 million views overnight. “My dad just texted ‘plane crashed, I’m fine’ like he spilled coffee,” the caption read. Replies poured in from pilots worldwide calling it “the most survivable unsurvivable crash” they’d ever seen. One Delta captain wrote: “That’s not skill – that’s the Man upstairs flying the plane.”

The charred wreckage now sits in an NTSB hangar in Springfield, a mangled testament to how close the two men came to tragedy. Reynolds told reporters Wednesday he’s already planning to get back in the cockpit once cleared. “Flying’s in my blood,” he said with a grin. “But next time, I’m bringing an extra guardian angel – just in case.”

For the tight-knit aviation community in mid-Missouri, Tuesday’s miracle has become instant legend – proof that sometimes, against all odds, the sky really is merciful.