Beloved CBS Meteorologist Killed In Plane Crash

The call came too late.

In minutes, a routine winter flight turned into a nightmare over an icy Idaho river, and a community favorite vanished from their screens forever. Viewers are heartbroken. Colleagues are stunned. A wife, six children, and grandchildren are left holding questions that may never fully be answered — and a silence where a steady voice once lived.

Roland Steadham’s death has left a quiet ache across living rooms that once relied on his calm presence during winter storms and summer heatwaves. For decades, he was the reassuring guide through danger, the familiar face who could explain a blizzard or a heat dome without panic, making even the worst forecasts feel survivable. When the weather turned threatening, people trusted Roland. He didn’t just predict storms — he helped people feel prepared to face them.

Off-camera, he poured that same steadiness into his family and into flight, the lifelong passion that married his love of the sky with his respect for its power. He logged thousands of hours in the air, not chasing thrill but understanding — clouds, wind patterns, the invisible forces he taught viewers to take seriously. Flying, like forecasting, was about awareness, humility, and care.

In the days since the crash, memories have replaced forecasts. Stories surface of chance conversations at a local McDonald’s, quiet encouragement offered to young aviation students, and the way his face lit up when talking about cloud formations or aircraft instruments. He was generous with his time, patient with curiosity, and never too busy to explain why the sky was doing what it was doing.

Investigators will eventually piece together what went wrong over the Payette River. Reports will be written. Findings will be filed. But for many who knew him — personally or only through a screen — the cause matters less than the absence. Roland Steadham died doing what he loved, leaving behind a family, a newsroom, and a community that now looks to the sky with a little more reverence, a little more gratitude, and a lot more sorrow.

The forecast, for once, is heartbreak — and remembrance.