The morning of January 27, 2026, began like countless others for Roland Steadham—with aviation on his mind and Idaho’s winter skies beckoning. At 10:43 a.m., the veteran meteorologist’s small aircraft lifted off from Emmett Municipal Airport, carrying him and fellow aviator Dallin Laufenberg into air so clear it seemed to promise nothing but smooth flying. Twelve minutes later, everything went silent.
What happened next has devastated not just a family, but an entire community that had come to rely on Steadham’s calm voice during Idaho’s fiercest storms. The aircraft struck a power line stretching across the Payette River near Black Canyon, sending the plane plummeting onto the frozen river below. Both men died instantly in the impact, their passion for flight ending in the very element they loved most.
A Career Built on Reading the Skies
Roland Steadham wasn’t just reading weather reports—he was living them. For 35 years, he built a career that took him from forecasting hurricanes on Florida’s coasts to predicting blizzards in Utah’s mountains. His journey through meteorology began after completing degrees at Brigham Young University and the University of Utah, followed by advanced training through Mississippi State University’s meteorology program.
His professional credentials were impressive: both the American Meteorological Society and National Weather Association awarded him their Seals of Approval, recognitions reserved for meteorologists who demonstrate exceptional skill and commitment to their field. Before settling in Boise as CBS2’s chief meteorologist for the past decade, Steadham spent time at KUTV in Salt Lake City from 2005 to 2009, KTVX also in Salt Lake City, and even worked for a period at Miami’s WTVJ from 2013 to 2014, where he collaborated with former Local 10 Hurricane Specialist Max Mayfield.
But it was in Idaho where Steadham found his true home. His station biography captured this sentiment perfectly, noting that after working coast to coast, he and his family decided there was no place like the West, with Boise representing the highlight of his career. CBS senior national weather correspondent Rob Marciano, who knew Steadham for over 20 years, remembered him simply as “a great guy, a total pro, and a gentleman.”
More Than a Meteorologist: A Pilot’s Pilot
What set Steadham apart from many television meteorologists was his intimate understanding of the atmosphere from perspectives most forecasters never experience. He wasn’t just predicting the weather—he was flying through it.
As a commercially licensed pilot, Steadham had logged more than 3,000 flight hours, piloting everything from competition aerobatic aircraft to twin-engine jets and gliders. He was also an accomplished skydiver with over 700 jumps to his name, giving him a literally hands-on understanding of atmospheric conditions that informed his forecasting in unique ways.
His love for aviation was more than a hobby; it was a lens through which he viewed his meteorological work. Steadham frequently incorporated his aerial perspectives into his broadcasts, offering viewers unique views of Idaho’s landscapes and weather systems. He operated his small aircraft out of Emmett Municipal Airport, the same location from which his final, fatal flight departed.
Just one week before the crash, Steadham visited students at Payette River Regional Technical Academy’s aviation class in Emmett, sharing his passion with the next generation of pilots. Jim Baker, the instructor, recalled Steadham’s final words to the class with particular poignancy: “I’ve enjoyed years of flying… it’s been so good to me… and I’d really encourage you guys to pursue aviation.”
During that visit, Steadham had explained complex weather concepts in ways the students could understand, teaching them about air pressure systems and how inversion phenomena affect flying conditions in the Emmett area. Baker would later note the tragic irony: “We teach about incidents happening in the classroom, but when it happens right in your backyard with somebody you know, that hits even harder.”
The Fatal Flight: Twelve Minutes That Changed Everything
According to flight data and statements from the Gem County Sheriff’s Office, the sequence of events on that Tuesday morning unfolded with devastating speed. The aircraft took off from Emmett Airport at 10:43 a.m. and lost contact just twelve minutes later at 10:55 a.m. Authorities responded to reports of a crash at 10:58 a.m., arriving at the jet ski park turnout on the Payette River, west of Montour.
Preliminary investigation revealed that the small plane had clipped a power line before crashing onto the ice covering the river. The impact was forceful enough to sever the electrical lines, causing widespread power outages throughout the eastern portion of Gem County. Idaho Power crews worked alongside first responders to restore power, but their work was complicated by the need to ensure all lines were de-energized before emergency personnel could safely access the crash site.
The Gem County Coroner later identified the second victim as Dallin Laufenberg of Meridian. Like Steadham, Laufenberg was deeply involved in Idaho’s aviation community, serving as the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association liaison for the Nampa Airport. Both men brought different perspectives to their shared passion—Steadham with decades of experience, Laufenberg in his first decade of flying—creating what local aviation leaders described as complementary viewpoints on flight.
Investigators found GoPro cameras at the crash scene that may have been recording during the flight. Baker, the aviation instructor, noted that he had followed Steadham’s YouTube channel and seen footage captured from both wing-mounted and cockpit cameras. “Just crossing my fingers that the GoPro was running at the time,” Baker said, hoping the footage might help investigators understand what happened in those final moments.
The Hidden Danger: Why Power Lines Pose Such Deadly Risks
The tragedy that claimed Steadham and Laufenberg’s lives highlights a persistent and often underestimated hazard in aviation: power line strikes. According to aviation safety literature, transmission lines create serious safety hazards for general aviation aircraft precisely because they are virtually invisible to pilots, especially when flying at low altitudes.
Federal Aviation Administration regulations stipulate that power lines and towers only need to be charted on sectional maps if they exceed 200 feet above ground level. This means countless power lines crossing fields, rivers, and valleys remain unmarked on the charts pilots use for navigation. Even when power lines are depicted on charts, they’re included strictly for landmark value—no altitudes are given for individual towers, and their presence is meant to help with visual navigation rather than serve as obstruction warnings.
Research has shown that in many cases, wires remain invisible to pilots until the last moment. The problem is compounded during approaches to airports or landing areas, where aircraft naturally fly at lower altitudes. Studies of wire-strike accidents have found that approximately 60% involve general aviation operations, with agricultural operations accounting for another 27% of such incidents.
The consequences of power line strikes are typically catastrophic. Aviation litigation experts note that such collisions frequently have disastrous outcomes, with most wire strikes resulting in fatalities. The wires’ near-invisibility creates what safety specialists describe as a “deadly trap”—a hazard that exists but cannot be easily detected until it’s too late.
Investigation Underway: The Long Road to Answers
Both the Federal Aviation Administration and the National Transportation Safety Board have launched investigations into the crash, with the NTSB taking the lead role. In a statement to media outlets, the FAA confirmed that a small aircraft carrying two people crashed into a frozen river near Emmett, but provided few additional details.
The investigation process will be lengthy and thorough. Brent Swanson, speaking about the complexity of such investigations, noted that NTSB accident investigations typically require 12 to 24 months to complete—a difficult waiting period for families desperate for answers. Investigators will examine the aircraft’s maintenance history, flight performance data, and environmental factors that may have contributed to the accident. The flight logs will be reviewed with what one expert described as a “fine-tooth comb” to ensure nothing was mechanically wrong with the plane.
George, a member of the local aviation community, captured the collective sentiment: “I think we’re all a little stunned, and emotionally detached until we understand really what happened. We’re all very eager to understand all the aspects of what occurred, but in the same breath, we want to make sure that we hear it correctly and assess the information properly.”
The aviation community has emphasized an important point that adds another layer to the tragedy: “Roland was a very competent pilot.” His extensive experience, commercial license, and thousands of flight hours make the accident all the more difficult to comprehend. If someone with Steadham’s qualifications could fall victim to a power line strike, it underscores just how hazardous these near-invisible obstacles truly are.
A Life Beyond the Forecast
While viewers across Idaho knew Roland Steadham as the reliable voice guiding them through weather emergencies, his family knew a different man—one defined not by professional achievements but by devotion to those he loved.
Steadham leaves behind his wife, Erin, six children, and several grandchildren. In recent years, the family had discovered shared joys in kayaking throughout Idaho’s waterways and gathering for backyard cookouts. According to CBS2, Roland rarely had conversations that didn’t include mentions of his family. He spoke constantly about Erin, his children’s accomplishments, their love for life and the outdoors, and he particularly looked forward to visits with his grandchildren.
Friends and colleagues remember these qualities vividly. One McDonald’s customer in Star, Idaho, wrote on social media about regular encounters with Steadham: “He was a friend that my wife and I would see often. He always had time to talk about the weather and his love of flying his plane.”
His station’s tribute captured the depth of his impact: “For the past decade, Roland Steadham guided people through storm after storm in Idaho. He loved to study the weather and shared it with people across Idaho. Roland’s excitement for the weather was contagious.” The statement concluded with a simple but profound observation: “Our community won’t be the same without him.”
The Idaho Aviation Association released its own statement, reflecting on the difficulty of processing such a loss: “Today we are challenged to understand the how and why’s of what we are passionate about. Today we will mourn for the loss of an aviator and friend who was living his dreams. Bringing aviation to the forefront of discussion and to the public on many platforms.”
The Mentor Who Shaped Careers
Beyond his on-air presence and his flying expertise, Steadham left another significant legacy: the countless meteorologists he trained throughout his 35-year career. His station biography noted that he “trained countless Meteorologists who continue to inform the public across the country.” These protégés now carry forward not just technical skills but Steadham’s infectious enthusiasm for understanding and explaining weather phenomena.
The scope of his influence extended across media markets and generations of weather professionals. From Florida to Utah to Idaho, young meteorologists learned their craft under Steadham’s guidance, absorbing not just the science of meteorology but the art of communicating complex atmospheric concepts to general audiences.
When Passion Meets Peril
In the days following the crash, a haunting detail emerged on social media. Just three weeks before the accident, a friend had commented on one of Steadham’s Facebook photos showing him with his plane: “NICE!! How’s the winter performance boost?!?!”
Steadham had responded enthusiastically: “It’s amazing.” He added in another comment: “One sweet ride.”
These exchanges, preserved in digital amber, capture the genuine joy Steadham found in aviation. They also underscore a cruel irony: the very passion that brought him such happiness ultimately led to his death. The sky he studied professionally, flew through recreationally, and shared with viewers nightly became the setting for his final moments.
Broader Implications for Aviation Safety
The Steadham-Laufenberg crash serves as a stark reminder of ongoing safety challenges in general aviation. Power line strikes remain a persistent problem despite decades of awareness and safety initiatives. The FAA provides guidelines for marking power lines near airports, recommending spherical markers spaced at 200-foot intervals, alternating between aviation orange, white, and yellow colors.
However, implementation of these safety measures remains inconsistent. Many power lines, particularly those crossing remote areas or running through valleys and canyons, lack adequate marking. The Aerial Application Association of Australia has launched a Powerline Safety Program promoting the concept that powerline network operators should be responsible for marking lines when requested—or better yet, proactively marking them before accidents occur.
Aviation safety experts point out that until charting rules change and marking becomes more widespread, pilots’ best protection is to fly higher whenever possible and, when low-level flight is necessary, to make a high-level reconnaissance pass first to identify potential hazards.
A Community in Mourning
The outpouring of grief following news of Steadham’s death has been substantial. Social media platforms filled with tributes from viewers, colleagues, and community members whose lives he touched. One person wrote: “God bless Roland’s family! We lost a beautiful person today doing what he loved to do.”
CBS2 paid extensive tribute to their colleague, sharing videos of his work and describing him as a journalist, mentor, and friend who “will be greatly missed.” The station’s Instagram post captured decades of dedication compressed into a simple truth: Roland Steadham had devoted his life to helping others understand and prepare for the weather, and in doing so, had become an irreplaceable part of countless Idahoans’ daily routines.
Schools experienced the loss particularly acutely, given Steadham’s recent visit and his enthusiasm for inspiring young aviators. The students at Payette River Regional Technical Academy will carry forward the memory of a man who took time from his schedule to share wisdom with the next generation, never knowing those would be his final lessons.
Unanswered Questions and the Path Forward
As investigations continue, numerous questions remain unanswered. Who was piloting the aircraft at the time of impact? Were weather conditions a factor despite the apparently clear skies? Did the flight path necessarily require such low altitude, or were other factors involved? Will the GoPro footage provide definitive answers, or will the causes remain partially obscured?
The aircraft was registered to Northwest Registered Agent LLC, and while investigators will examine every aspect of its maintenance and operational history, answers may be months or even years away. The NTSB’s methodical approach, while thorough, offers little comfort to those seeking immediate understanding of why such an experienced pilot and his passenger met this fate.
Meanwhile, the power lines that caused the crash remain in place, still stretching across the Payette River, still presenting the same invisible hazard to future aircraft. Whether this accident will spur additional safety measures—better marking, more comprehensive charting, or enhanced pilot training about wire-strike risks—remains to be seen.
A Legacy Written in the Clouds
In the end, Roland Steadham’s life represents a particular kind of American story: a professional who found deep meaning in his work, a family man who prioritized relationships over recognition, and an enthusiast who pursued his passions with the kind of infectious joy that inspired others.
For 35 years, he helped Idaho residents understand the atmospheric forces shaping their days. He explained complex meteorological concepts in accessible terms, guided families through severe weather events, and brought a meteorologist’s precision combined with a pilot’s practical understanding to every forecast. His ability to literally fly through the systems he predicted gave his work an authenticity that viewers recognized and valued.
The sky that Steadham loved—that he studied, forecast, flew through, and shared with others—ultimately claimed him in a moment that combined tragedy with grim irony. A master of atmospheric conditions, brought down not by weather but by a hazard that exists in the thin space where earth and sky meet, where power lines carry electricity across distances but remain largely invisible to those approaching from above.
As investigations proceed and the aviation community processes this loss, Steadham’s family faces the difficult task of moving forward without their husband, father, and grandfather. Idaho viewers will adjust to new voices delivering weather forecasts. Students who met him that final week will remember his encouragement to pursue aviation. And the broader aviation community will study whatever lessons emerge from the crash data, hoping to prevent similar tragedies.
Roland Steadham spent decades helping others prepare for what was coming—the next storm, the next cold front, the next weather system rolling across Idaho’s varied terrain. What he couldn’t prepare for, what no one could have predicted, was that his final flight would end not with a smooth landing back at Emmett Municipal Airport, but in the frozen waters of the Payette River, the victim of an invisible hazard that too many pilots before him have encountered too late.
The weatherman who read the skies for 35 years has made his final forecast. The community he served mourns not just the loss of a talented meteorologist and skilled aviator, but of a genuinely good man who loved his family, inspired young people, and found joy in the simple pleasure of flight. His legacy will live on in the meteorologists he trained, the safety lessons learned from his death, and in the memories of countless Idaho families who trusted his voice to guide them through the storms.