On the morning of February 22, 1974, a troubled 17-year-old named Samuel Byck attempted to hijack a commercial airliner in Baltimore, Maryland, intending to crash it into the White House and kill President Richard Nixon. Although the attempt failed and Nixon was never in danger, the plot was among the most audacious and chilling of its time—an eerie precursor to the kind of airborne terrorism that would horrify the nation decades later.
Political and Social Context
By early 1974, Richard Nixon’s presidency was unraveling under the weight of the Watergate scandal. Investigations were accelerating, public trust in the government was plummeting, and protest movements from both the left and right had become increasingly volatile. Amid this atmosphere of distrust and political anger, Nixon faced intense scrutiny, though he remained in office and largely defiant.
Beyond Watergate, the country was also grappling with high inflation, the energy crisis, and a disillusioned public still reeling from the Vietnam War. It was a moment when extreme ideological and emotional reactions were bubbling up across the political spectrum.
Samuel Byck was a man who absorbed that turbulence and redirected it into a delusional and deadly plan.
The Plot
Samuel Joseph Byck was a former tire salesman from Philadelphia who had become increasingly unstable and paranoid. Recently divorced and unemployed, he blamed the federal government—particularly Nixon—for his personal failures and economic hardship. Over time, Byck developed the belief that Nixon was oppressing the poor and orchestrating a vast conspiracy to benefit the wealthy.
Byck had previously attempted to get attention from public figures, including trying to deliver taped messages to journalists, Congress, and even celebrities. His grievances were jumbled, blending real-world issues with imagined persecution. Byck ultimately conceived a plan to assassinate the president by hijacking a commercial airliner and crashing it directly into the White House—a method of political violence that would not be seen again until 9/11.
Timeline
February 22, 1974, ~7:15 a.m.: Byck drives to Baltimore/Washington International Airport with a stolen .22 caliber pistol and a gasoline bomb in a briefcase.
Shortly after 7:30 a.m.: He storms Delta Air Lines Flight 523 on the tarmac, which is preparing for takeoff to Atlanta.
Inside the aircraft: Byck forces his way into the cockpit, shooting and killing the co-pilot and wounding the pilot.
While holding passengers and crew hostage: He demands the plane be flown to Washington, D.C., where he intends to crash it into the White House.
Within minutes: Police and airport security respond. A standoff ensues.
~7:45 a.m.: Officers fire through the cockpit window, critically wounding Byck. Before they can reach him, he shoots himself in the head and dies at the scene.
The Assassination Attempt
Byck’s assault on the aircraft was swift and violent. He killed First Officer Fred Jones instantly and seriously wounded Captain Reese Loftin, who slumped over the controls and was unable to operate the plane. Byck forced a terrified flight attendant to lock the door and shouted at passengers to stay calm.
Outside the aircraft, airport police and SWAT surrounded the plane. Snipers shot Byck through the cockpit window, preventing him from igniting his homemade bomb or ordering anyone to take off. Bleeding heavily, he turned the gun on himself and died before police could enter the cockpit.
President Nixon was never in immediate danger. He was at the White House at the time, with no knowledge of the unfolding crisis until later.
Immediate Aftermath
Though the attempt was thwarted, it stunned the nation. The idea that a commercial plane could be weaponized against the president—years before airline security checkpoints became standard—seemed both horrifying and absurd. And yet, Byck’s plan had come dangerously close to causing mass casualties and unprecedented chaos.
The White House downplayed the event, and Nixon never directly addressed it. Still, federal authorities quietly took note. The incident became a turning point in aviation security planning, though many of the recommended changes were not implemented until much later.
Investigation and Arrests
Byck left behind a series of tape-recorded messages explaining his motives and detailing his plan. He had mailed some of these to prominent individuals, including journalist Jack Anderson and composer Leonard Bernstein, in hopes of posthumous notoriety. In them, he raged against Nixon, capitalism, and government corruption.
The FBI found no evidence of co-conspirators. Byck had acted alone, driven by a mix of political delusion, personal failure, and suicidal despair. His diaries and recordings offered a window into a mind unraveling under the pressure of real and imagined grievances.
Trial and Legal Proceedings
Because Byck died during the hijacking attempt, there was no trial. However, extensive postmortem investigations were conducted by the FBI, Secret Service, and airport authorities. These reports were later declassified and became part of counterterrorism case studies in the 1990s and early 2000s.
No charges were filed against anyone else. The airline and law enforcement response were both reviewed and ultimately commended for preventing greater loss of life.
Punishments and Legacy of the Conspirator
Samuel Byck never faced justice in a courtroom, but his legacy lived on as a cautionary tale of how untreated mental illness and political radicalization could lead to catastrophic violence. His plan, while deeply flawed and ultimately unworkable, demonstrated alarming creativity and lethal intent.
Byck became an object of grim fascination, inspiring characters in plays and films, including the 2004 movie The Assassination of Richard Nixon starring Sean Penn. In 1990, Stephen Sondheim’s musical Assassins featured a fictionalized version of Byck as a symbol of American disillusionment.
Long-Term Impact on the Nation
Though largely forgotten in public memory, the Byck attempt had lasting implications. It prompted internal discussions within the FAA, Secret Service, and Department of Transportation about vulnerabilities in air travel. Some of these discussions, including the threat of hijacked planes used as weapons, were buried or dismissed—only to resurface after 9/11 as tragically prophetic.
Byck’s attack also revealed the need for improved mental health interventions and threat assessment models. The Secret Service began quietly expanding its psychological profiling of potential threats to the president, creating early models of behavioral threat analysis that remain in use today.
Controversies and Conspiracy Theories
While there was no credible evidence of a conspiracy, some have questioned why the Byck incident was so quickly overshadowed. Was it buried due to political embarrassment? Did the Nixon administration fear a public panic about aviation threats? Others argue that Byck’s racial and economic background (a white, working-class man with no formal ideology) made him an inconvenient figure for national debate.
Whatever the reasons, the event remains an underexamined chapter in presidential security history—one with eerie parallels to future acts of terrorism.
Primary Source Appendix
- FBI and Secret Service post-incident reports (February–March 1974)
- Transcripts and recordings of Samuel Byck’s taped messages
- Eyewitness interviews and cockpit testimony from surviving crew
- Media coverage from The Baltimore Sun, The Washington Post, and The New York Times (February 1974)
- FAA internal security reviews and aviation policy documents
- Retrospective case studies in Presidential Threat Assessment: The Secret Service and the FBI Experience
- Cultural depictions, including The Assassination of Richard Nixon (2004) and Assassins (Stephen Sondheim, 1990)