On October 12, 1997, John Denver, one of America’s most beloved singer-songwriters, died when his experimental plane crashed into Monterey Bay.
The accident was instantaneous and fatal, ending the life of a man who sold over 33 million albums, had four #1 hits in just two years, and whose personal life was filled with both soaring highs and tragic lows.
Denver was flying illegally that day—his pilot’s license had been revoked after multiple DUIs, and he’d been warned not to fly this very plane just two weeks earlier.
Born Henry John Deutschendorf Jr. in Roswell, New Mexico, in 1943, Denver grew up as the son of a strict Air Force pilot. The name “John Denver” was suggested by a manager, believing “Deutschendorf” would never fit on a marquee.
Denver reluctantly agreed, naming himself after his favorite state. Ironically, it was his father who later taught him to fly—a passion that would eventually claim his life.
Denver’s songwriting talent was legendary. He wrote “Annie’s Song,” one of the most romantic ballads of the decade, in just ten minutes on a ski lift. The song was inspired by his wife, Annie Martell, but their marriage ended in a bitter divorce.
Denver’s temper sometimes boiled over; he once cut their marital bed in half with a chainsaw during their split. His second marriage, to Cassandra Delaney, ended with accusations of bullying and a contentious custody battle.
Despite his turbulent personal life, Denver’s career in the 1970s was nothing short of meteoric. He became one of the top-selling artists in history, with 33 gold or platinum records and four #1 Billboard hits: “Sunshine on My Shoulders,” “Annie’s Song,” “Thank God I’m a Country Boy,” and “I’m Sorry.”
His TV specials broke viewership records, and he hosted the Grammy Awards five times. Yet, despite this success, he won only one Grammy—posthumously, for a children’s album.
Denver’s humanitarian work was as notable as his music. He co-founded The Hunger Project and was appointed to the Presidential Commission on World Hunger.
Yet, in 1985, he was heartbreakingly rejected from participating in “We Are the World,” the era’s biggest charity single, because producers thought his wholesome image didn’t fit. The snub devastated him and contributed to his struggles with alcohol.
That same year, Denver became the first American artist to perform publicly in the Soviet Union in over a decade, helping to thaw Cold War tensions. He even learned to sing “Annie’s Song” in Russian for his audiences.
Later, he testified before the U.S. Senate against music censorship, comparing it to Nazi book burnings, surprising lawmakers who expected him to support their cause.
Denver’s lifelong dream was to fly in space. He became a NASA shuttle finalist and almost took the seat that went to Christa McAuliffe, who perished in the Challenger disaster. Afterward, he tried to arrange a flight with the Soviet space program, but never made it to orbit.
His love of flight persisted despite his license being revoked after two DUI arrests. The FAA ordered him to stop flying, but Denver ignored the warnings. The plane he crashed in was notoriously difficult to operate; the fuel selector valve was dangerously placed behind the pilot’s seat. On his final flight, Denver likely lost control while trying to switch fuel tanks, sending the plane into a fatal spiral.
John Denver’s ashes were scattered over the Rocky Mountains, the place he so often sang about. His story is a reminder that even those who seem to embody American optimism and freedom can be haunted by personal demons—and that the pursuit of freedom, for some, is both a gift and a curse.
