misspoke. There was not “some turbulence.” We started free falling and diving all around, plane flinging side to side, like we were in a maelstrom and had lost complete control. Instead of a large, stable, metal aircraft, we were suddenly as fragile as a thin plastic toy. Some passengers let out little whimpers. Those eventually turned into louder shrieks. Apparently, I was not the only one a teensy bit nervous. In an alarming turn of events, it felt like we landed on the ground in a sort of crash, but immediately bounced back up, an imaginary bungee heaving us back into the sky. We were hitting big pockets of air. Over and over. A woman commenced reciting the Lord’s Prayer out loud, and numerous people cried. The woman next to me grabbed my arm and we linked them together; strangers in sudden solidarity over our impending death.
The pilot yanked the plane back up higher. The G-forces pressed against our chests. He was unable to break through the angry storm, so he took us back up to clearer air. Then, I guess he turned it over to the co-pilot, or put the plane on autopilot, because the next thing we knew, he was walking into the passenger area to face us. Oh. My. God.
“Folks, I just want to let you know that I’m doing everything I can up there. Just like you I don’t want to crash. There’s a huge storm in the area, with tornadoes, so we have to be really careful. It’s going to get bumpy, but I’m going to do my absolute best to get you on the ground safely.”
If I didn’t say it before, I’m saying it now. Oh. My. God. He couldn’t even say that over the loud speaker. He felt like he needed to do a face-to-face. Perhaps storing the images of actual passenger faces into his mind would give him the incentive to soldier through the storm.
For the next hour, we bounced and smashed and watched out the windows as the wings flexed and looked like they might snap off. More people cried. More people prayed. Strangers held hands. Then, with another crashing sound, we were on the ground. We didn’t realize it at first, just thought we had hit more air. It wasn’t until the plane slowed down that we figured it out and everyone started cheering, clapping and crying with joy. I wish I was exaggerating.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, as you can see, we’ve landed. But we couldn’t land in Orlando, so we had to be rerouted to Melbourne. We will wait here until the weather clears for safety, then we will get back up in the air and get you to Orlando in about twenty minutes from take-off.” A collective noise of horror rang out among the passengers. Would I ever see my parents again? Did they know what I was going through? I knew they were at the airport waiting for me. What were they being told? This was during a time when you could still meet your family at the gate. They would be there for me when I stepped off the plane. IF I stepped off the plane.
“Screw this, I’m outta here!” yelled a man, who got up out of his seat, grabbed his bag and headed to the front of the plane.
“Sir, I’m sorry but I need you to take your seat.” The flight attendant was surprisingly composed. Surely, she must be terrified, too. I guess they train for this kind of thing, but nobody is that good and fearless, are they? There were no signs of soiled pants on her, so I have to give her props.
“If you think I’m going to sit here in this coffin and go back up in the air, you are fuckin’ crazy.” I can’t say I disagreed with him. If I thought I could reasonably expect to get home from Melbourne, I may have tried. But I didn’t have a car, money or cellphone at the time. My parents weren’t home, so I couldn’t call them collect. I felt I had to take the chance. I really believed it might be the end. My short life flashed before my eyes; slowly, since we had time to wait for takeoff. A tear dripped from my eye as I began to reflect on the good times I’d had in my life.
The flight attendant left the disgruntled man standing there, which totally wouldn’t happen today, and went to speak to the captain. They let him off. Due to the circumstances and the complete and utter fear of all the passengers, they offered everyone else the chance to disembark as well. The captain came back out. This had to be unprecedented. Was he going to be on a first name basis with all the passengers by the end of this ordeal?
“That guy can go as far as I’m concerned. If any of the rest of you have a problem, then now’s your chance to leave. Otherwise, I will get you to Orlando safely.” One other person exited the plane as everyone, including the captain and flight attendants, watched in silence. “Good, okay. Now we will work on getting this plane back up in the air and over to its proper destination.”
True to his word, and a half hour later, we were airborne yet again, terrified and humbled once again by Mother Nature. I can’t say I enjoyed that little flight. Because it was so close, we couldn’t get that high, so we basically flew right threw the storm. When we landed again, everyone cheered and hugged. So many pieces of luggage, cups, magazines, etc. had been dislodged during the flight, that it took a while to get our stuff and get off the plane.
As soon as I saw my parents, I fell into their arms, bawling. I wanted to lie down on the ground and kiss it, germ-infested airport carpet be damned. I was so shaky that I could hardly walk. My voice had gone up a few octaves and I almost didn’t recognize it when I tried to speak. My parents had been told that we were rerouted and they had been very nervous because there had been four tornadoes spotted in the area. FOUR. And we were flying in the midst of them. I’m sure that’s safe. I told them to wait a minute and I ran, jelly-legged to the friendly family who had carried my luggage and gave them each a hug. I still don’t know their names. I hadn’t stopped shaking even when we got home. I was physically safe, yes, but mentally scarred.
This is why I have to be on medication when I fly. I might need therapy.
Hypochondriac Travel Tip #6
When you try something new, just breathe through it and it won’t hurt a bit.
6
I’m Tough, I Do Construction
Part I
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