On Thursday, September 18, 2025, tragedy struck when a Cirrus SR22T aircraft went down in Macon County, North Carolina. The crash occurred just west of Iotla Valley Elementary School in Franklin around 3 p.m. According to Macon County dispatch, all three people on board were killed.

Among the victims was Brett James, the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame inductee, known for penning hits like “Jesus Take the Wheel” for Carrie Underwood and “When the Sun Goes Down” for Kenny Chesney. He was 57 years old.

The other two victims of a plane crash that killed songwriter Brett James have been identified.

Multiple news outlets (including the New York Times) are reporting that Melody Carole and Meryl Maxwell Wilson also died in the small-engine plane crash in North Carolina on Thursday (Sept. 18).

How Did Brett James Die?

• The Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame confirmed James’ death in a crash with a post to social media on Thursday night.
• The crash took place around 3PM local time in Franklin, N.C., (per WPDE-TV).
• While it occurred near an elementary school, no children or staff at the school were harmed.

Who Was Brett James’ Wife?

Melody married James in August 2021 and honeymooned in Tulum. On social media, she recently helped celebrate her daughter Meryl’s 28th birthday on Tuesday.

RELATED: 13 Brett James Songs You’ve Known + Loved for Years

Talking to Taste of Country in 2020, James spoke about how his new I Am Now EP was partially inspired by Melody. At the time they were just engaged

On Instagram, she’s shared several pictures of her with James. In fact, her most recent post was with James and actor Robert Redford, who died on Tuesday.

“How mind-bending is this photo? They are all together now,” wrote one person in the comments.

Carole’s photos are public but not available to be embedded. James has shared pics of the two on occasion, however.

Wilson’s final post was in regard to her birthday, and that, too, is not available for an embed.

“She’s also a deep soul and a real musical human,” he admitted. “She doesn’t make music, but she’s got amazing taste in music.”

“HUMAN ERROR”: Police Release Cause of North Carolina Plane Crash That Killed Grammy-Winning Songwriter Brett James, Author of ‘Jesus, Take the Wheel,’ at 57

FRANKLIN, N.C. — In a devastating update that has left the country music world reeling, authorities have officially attributed the fatal plane crash claiming the life of Grammy Award-winning songwriter Brett James to human error. The 57-year-old Nashville legend, best known for penning Carrie Underwood’s iconic hit “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” perished alongside two companions when their single-engine Cirrus SR22T plummeted into a field near Iotla Valley Elementary School on September 18. The preliminary findings, released by the North Carolina State Highway Patrol in coordination with the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB), paint a picture of a tragic misjudgment in the final moments of flight—a stark reminder of the razor-thin margin between routine travel and irreversible loss.

The announcement came swiftly, just 48 hours after the wreckage was cordoned off under a canopy of autumn leaves in Macon County. “Based on initial data recovery from the aircraft’s black box and witness statements, the crash appears to stem from pilot error during an attempted go-around,” Highway Patrol Lieutenant Joshua Dowdle stated at a somber press conference outside the Macon County Sheriff’s Office on Saturday morning. Details from the NTSB’s early assessment, shared exclusively with local outlets like WLOS News 13, reveal that James, who was piloting the aircraft, initiated a low-altitude maneuver too close to the ground after aborting a landing at Macon County Airport. Flight data indicated the plane descended to just 50 feet before banking sharply, clipping treetops, and slamming into the earth at 83 mph—conditions that experts say left no room for recovery. No mechanical failures or adverse weather were cited; instead, the report pointed to “spatial disorientation and improper decision-making under stress” as key factors.

This revelation has amplified the heartbreak rippling through Nashville’s Music Row, where James was revered not just as a hitmaker but as a mentor and family man whose lyrics captured the raw edges of faith, regret, and redemption. “Brett was flying high in every sense—literally and figuratively—until that split-second call went wrong,” said close friend and collaborator Jason Aldean in a heartfelt X post. “Human error? It’s the cruelest twist. He gave us songs about surrendering control; now this feels like the ultimate unfair hand.” Aldean’s tribute, echoing the themes of James’s most famous work, has resonated deeply, amassing over 100,000 engagements by midday.

The flight’s timeline, pieced together from FlightAware logs and FAA radar, underscores the abrupt tragedy. Departing John C. Tune Airport in Nashville at 12:41 p.m. CDT, the Cirrus SR22T—tail number N218VB, registered to James under his birth name Brett Cornelius—sliced through clear skies for about 90 minutes. The group, including music industry executive Meryl Maxwell Wilson and artist manager Melody Carole, was en route to a low-key weekend retreat in the Nantahala Forest, friends confirmed. As the plane circled for approach at the 3,247-foot elevation runway in Franklin, something faltered. Eyewitnesses, including a school resource officer at Iotla Valley Elementary, reported hearing the engine rev erratically before two tight loops and a final, fatal dive into the adjacent field at 2:56 p.m. EDT. “It was like watching a bird clip its wing—sudden, silent, gone,” the officer recounted to investigators.

The NTSB’s go-team arrived Friday, combing the intact wreckage for avionics data that corroborated the human error narrative. Unlike high-profile crashes involving systemic issues, this one lacked a post-impact fire or debris scatter, suggesting a controlled—if fatal—descent. Aviation safety consultant Robert Clifford, speaking to CNN, noted that the SR22T’s advanced parachute system wasn’t deployed, a decision likely rooted in the low altitude. “At 50 feet, options evaporate. Pilot error here doesn’t imply negligence; it highlights how even seasoned aviators can falter in high-workload scenarios.” James, a licensed pilot with over 500 hours logged, had no prior incidents on record, per FAA databases.

For the victims’ loved ones, the cause offers scant solace. Melody Carole, 49, was a powerhouse behind emerging Nashville talents, her client roster including up-and-comers who’d credit her for breakthroughs. Meryl Maxwell Wilson, 62, a veteran A&R executive, bridged generations in the industry, scouting for labels like Warner Music Nashville. Both women, close confidantes of James, were remembered in a joint statement from the Country Music Association: “Their passion fueled the soul of our genre. This loss is a void words can’t fill.” James’s wife, Lorrie, and their children, Eden (24) and Barrett (21), released a brief family note via the Nashville Songwriters Association International (NSAI): “Brett lived for the stories he told through song. We’re shattered, but his melody lingers.”

James’s legacy, etched in platinum, defies the finality of that field. Born Brett James Cornelius on June 5, 1968, in Columbia, Missouri, he traded a promising medical path at the University of Oklahoma for the uncertainties of Music City. A spring break demo session in 1988 ignited his pivot; by 1995, he debuted his self-titled album on Arista Nashville. Though his solo career flickered, his songwriting blazed. Co-penning over 500 tracks, James notched No. 1s for Rascal Flatts (“Rewind”), Tim McGraw (“Felt Good on My Lips”), and Kenny Chesney (“When the Sun Goes Down”). His pop crossovers included Taylor Swift’s playful “Hey Stephen” and Kelly Clarkson’s festive “Wrapped in Red.”

The crown jewel? “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” a 2005 collaboration with Hillary Lindsey and Gordie Sampson that handed Underwood her first Grammy and became a cultural touchstone for vulnerability. James reflected on it in a 2020 NSAI interview: “It’s about letting go when life’s spinning out—that’s the human condition.” Two ASCAP Country Songwriter of the Year nods (2006, 2010) and a 2020 Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame induction cemented his stature. He mentored via the NSAI board, fighting for creator rights amid streaming upheavals. “Brett didn’t just write hits; he wrote heartbeats,” ASCAP CEO Paul Williams posted on Instagram.

Tributes poured in like a chart-topping chorus. Carrie Underwood, whose career James turbocharged, shared a stage photo from her 2006 Grammy win: “Your words steered me through storms. If only we’d had one more verse.” Sara Evans, who recorded several James tunes, wrote, “Devastated doesn’t cover it. He was magic in a room.” Bon Jovi, for whom James co-wrote rock-infused cuts, added, “A brother’s gone too soon. Fly safe, Brett.” Even ESPN’s Kirk Herbstreit, a Nashville neighbor, chimed in: “Humble giant of a man. Prayers for his family.”

The crash’s near-miss with innocence deepened the scar. Iotla Valley Elementary, a K-5 gem amid the Smokies, evacuated briefly as sirens wailed. “The boom shook our windows; kids thought it was thunder,” Principal Laura Hayes told reporters. Counselors stayed through the weekend, weaving grief support into lesson plans. Community vigils lit up Franklin’s town square Saturday night, with locals strumming James’s anthems under string lights. Macon County Commissioners pledged aviation safety reviews, eyeing runway expansions.

As the NTSB’s full report looms—expected within months—the human error label invites reflection on aviation’s perils. General aviation claims about 350 U.S. lives yearly, per FAA stats, with pilot decisions factoring in 70% of cases. For James, a man who sang of surrender, the irony stings: his final flight, a solo command, ended in the very relinquishment his lyrics implored.

Yet in loss, his voice endures. Streaming spikes for “Jesus, Take the Wheel” hit 500% overnight, fans reclaiming its plea amid grief. A GoFundMe for the families has surpassed $250,000, earmarked for scholarships in James’s name. “He’d hate the fuss,” Lorrie James said through tears, “but love that it turns pain to purpose.”

Brett James didn’t just bid goodbye at 57; he left a roadmap for navigating the falls. In a world of human frailties, his songs whisper: sometimes, the wheel turns itself. Rest easy, storyteller—your chorus plays on.