An 81-year-old Florida man known for his appearance on Animal Planet's "Fatal Attractions" was struck and killed on a rural Arizona highway after pulling over to look at a snake, and the driver who allegedly fled the scene now faces criminal charges.
Ed Cassano, a father of two and lifelong wildlife enthusiast, was found dead lying in the road on August 7 after a vehicle allegedly driven by 57-year-old Ricky Finch struck him on a highway in rural Arizona, the New York Post reported. Finch allegedly fled the scene in a white Ford Fusion. Cassano had stepped out of his vehicle to examine a snake on the roadside, a routine act for a man who had spent decades working with some of the most dangerous reptiles on earth.
Finch later called police to turn himself in and was arrested outside his home in Graham County, Arizona. He was booked on charges of leaving the scene of an accident involving death.
Cassano was no casual hobbyist. He lived with 40 snakes, a collection that earned him a spot on Animal Planet's 2010 documentary series "Fatal Attractions." The show profiled people whose intense relationships with dangerous animals put them in extraordinary situations.
In his television appearance, Cassano spoke candidly about the risks he accepted every day.
"Even after all these years, every time I go into a venomous snake cage, there's always a little adrenaline boost. You're just inches away from death at that point, so you're dealing with something that is dangerous on a daily basis."
He also described the deep connection he sought with the animals he kept.
"It's very, very exciting and challenging and satisfying to try and establish a mutual trust with these animals."
That trust, and that willingness to get close, defined Cassano's life. It also, in a grim irony, placed him on the shoulder of an Arizona highway on August 7, doing what he had always done: stopping to observe a snake.
After the collision, Finch allegedly drove away in the white Ford Fusion. The Post described him as "a wanted man" at the time he contacted authorities, though the basis for that characterization, whether it referred solely to the hit-and-run or to separate legal matters, remains unclear from available reporting.
Finch called police the following Monday to surrender. Officers arrested him outside his Graham County home and booked him on the charge of leaving the scene of an accident involving death. No additional details about the criminal proceedings have been reported.
Hit-and-run cases that result in death carry serious consequences under Arizona law, and the charge Finch faces reflects the gravity of fleeing a scene where someone has been killed. Hit-and-run incidents have drawn increased public attention in recent years, with cases involving public figures and ordinary citizens alike raising questions about accountability on American roads.
The details of why Finch allegedly left the scene, and whether he was aware he had struck a person, have not been disclosed publicly.
Rhett Stanbury, who knew Cassano for 15 years, posted a tribute on Facebook calling the older man "not only a best friend, he was a mentor and father figure." Stanbury trained under Cassano to obtain his venomous snake license in Florida, and the two spent years together in the field.
Stanbury recalled spending "weeks searching for rattlesnakes in the deserts of Arizona and the vipers of Costa Rica" with Cassano. His tribute painted a picture of a man whose influence extended far beyond reptile keeping.
"Ed is the person who I trained under to get my venomous license here in Florida, he is the person who taught me about photography, he's the person I called when I didn't know how to fix something, he's the person who took me on my first out-of-state snake hunting trip."
The depth of the bond was clear. Stanbury wrote that Cassano was "one of the most dependable and loyal people I've ever had in my life. No matter the situation, he was someone I could always count on to be there for me."
Cassano's dedication to his animals was legendary among those who knew him. Stanbury noted that Cassano "raised some of the largest and most impressive species of venomous snakes you would ever see and kept all of his animals for their entirety of their lives, including a normal ball python for 60 years." Beyond snakes, Cassano's most beloved companions were his Airedale Terriers.
Cases where drivers flee after striking pedestrians raise a basic question of civic duty. Regardless of the circumstances of a collision, the law requires drivers to stop. Recent high-profile hit-and-run charges have underscored that point, with courts making clear that leaving the scene compounds whatever happened in the initial incident.
For more than six decades, Ed Cassano chose to live alongside creatures that could kill him. He understood the stakes. He said so on camera. He built a life around the proposition that careful, respectful proximity to dangerous animals was not recklessness but a calling.
He was not killed by a snake. He was killed, allegedly, by a driver who did not stop.
Stanbury's final words in his tribute captured what Cassano meant to the people around him.
"If he wasn't such an amazing person this wouldn't be such a hard transition to a new reality without him. I am so glad I had the time with him I did, I am glad I told him many times, how much he meant to me and how much I valued him."
Cassano was 81. He was a father of two. He had spent a lifetime doing what he loved, and he was doing exactly that when he was taken from the people who depended on him.
The question now is whether the justice system will hold Ricky Finch to the standard the law demands. Hit-and-run cases test something simple: whether a society still expects people to face what they have done, or whether driving away has become just another risk worth taking.
Fleeing a scene where a man lies dead in the road is not a gray area. Accountability after a hit-and-run should not depend on who the victim was or how famous the driver is. It should depend on the law, and the law says you stop.
Ed Cassano spent sixty years proving he would not flinch from danger. The least the system can do is not flinch from justice.
