By Greg Little
Wayne Independent
White Mills, Pennsylvania —
Just this week, we’ve reported on a pair of fatal plane crashes which happened in Wayne County. These were both tragic events and my sympathy goes out to all of the families who have been impacted.
The crashes also reminded me of my absolute fear of flying. It’s not like I have never flown, I have, but it’s been a long time and if I have my way, I will always remain on terra firma.
I’m not exactly where the deep-rooted fear came from. Part of it most likely came from my dad who flew exactly one time in his life. You see, his buddy Tony Morris talked my dad into going up with him on a small, single-engine plane. Tony was, well, pretty eccentric. From the story I heard, Tony got the plane going pretty fast and suddenly decided it was time to fly upside down.
The story goes that when the plane came back down to earth, my dad got out and swore he would never fly again. He stuck to that commitment.
It was many years later when my turn came up.
I was working for a newspaper at the time and a friend of mine said her dad was looking for someone to shoot some aerial photos of his factory out in rural Illinois. There was a few bucks involved so I thought I would give it a shot.
I got to the little airport and there was the little plane. Actually, it was a four-seater, so I guess it could have been worse. As soon as we took off I knew I was in trouble. I grabbed on to something, I think it might of been a hand hold, and I never let go. I was scared to death.
My friend had to grab the camera and shoot the photos of the factory. I don’t think they actually had to pry my hands off the bar, but it may have been possible. I was oblivious to anything but putting my feet back on the Mother Earth.
You’d of thought that would have been the end of it for me, but it wasn’t.
Ironically, after not being able to shoot the photos from the plane, my friend’s dad ended up hiring me to work at his factory. That led to another chapter in my life when he sold the company and it moved to Minnesota. I trekked to the great white north and actually enjoyed my job of doing state bidding on large snow plows.
As part of my job, the company decided we should do some trade shows. That meant flying. The first trip was from Minneapolis to Milwaukee. I’m not sure the plane ever did level off because those towns are so close. It was all over in about 30 minutes. I then took a trip to St. Louis and when we landed, it was in the middle of a storm. I just closed my eyes and finally breathed when the plane touched down.
Also in Minnesota, one of the owners of a nearby business invited me and my co-worker for lunch one day. Wow, we thought that was great. We promptly drove to the airport, boarded a four-seater and flew to St. Paul. I was petrified but felt proud of myself for not showing it that badly. My hands didn’t have to be pried off a bar, at least.
The next, and last time, I flew came a few years after that when I was living in rural Montana. I was involved with a Court TV show and it had been nominated for a cable television award. The ceremony was in Washington, D.C. That meant about a four hour drive to Minot, N.D., and then a flight to Minneapolis and a second flight from there to Washington. I was petrified again.
On the way back, the plane left Washington National Airport and right after we took off, it suddenly slowed down. I thought the end was near. As it turns out, it’s mandatory out of that airport that planes reduce speed to reduce noise. It didn’t help.
From then on, it was awful and I felt such a huge sigh of relief when those wheels touched down back in Minot. I was so happy to get off that plane and into my ultra-safe Dodge Omni to travel the high-speed roads of the Great Plains.
Since then, I have steered clear of any winged flight.
I’m still not exactly sure why I have such a deep fear. I think a lot of it is control. I’m the kind of person who will complain that I have to drive all of the time but won’t let Nicole drive, anyway. I can drive entire, long vacations all by myself. I do enjoy driving.
People always tell me how it’s so much more dangerous to drive than fly, but I’m not convinced. I think if you are a very cautious, safe and defensive driver, a lot of bad things can be diverted.
It’s probably pie-in-the-sky thinking on my part, but I can’t find any other way to reason this crazy fear I have of getting into an airplane. (I would get into the space shuttle if it was still flying, so you can now see I am certifiable.)
There’s just something about being in control and there’s also probably that fear of falling for a long period of time before slamming straight into the earth, leading to your demise.
I don’t really have this great fear of death, but maybe it’s the kind of death. I don’t know, I just can’t explain these things.
The whole fear thing is frustrating, but it won’t go away. It means I will likely never go to Hawaii or visit Europe, unless I can win the lottery and take a ship.
Maybe I should start playing the lottery.
Source: http://www.wayneindependent.com/opinions
Just this week, we’ve reported on a pair of fatal plane crashes which happened in Wayne County. These were both tragic events and my sympathy goes out to all of the families who have been impacted.
The crashes also reminded me of my absolute fear of flying. It’s not like I have never flown, I have, but it’s been a long time and if I have my way, I will always remain on terra firma.
I’m not exactly where the deep-rooted fear came from. Part of it most likely came from my dad who flew exactly one time in his life. You see, his buddy Tony Morris talked my dad into going up with him on a small, single-engine plane. Tony was, well, pretty eccentric. From the story I heard, Tony got the plane going pretty fast and suddenly decided it was time to fly upside down.
The story goes that when the plane came back down to earth, my dad got out and swore he would never fly again. He stuck to that commitment.
It was many years later when my turn came up.
I was working for a newspaper at the time and a friend of mine said her dad was looking for someone to shoot some aerial photos of his factory out in rural Illinois. There was a few bucks involved so I thought I would give it a shot.
I got to the little airport and there was the little plane. Actually, it was a four-seater, so I guess it could have been worse. As soon as we took off I knew I was in trouble. I grabbed on to something, I think it might of been a hand hold, and I never let go. I was scared to death.
My friend had to grab the camera and shoot the photos of the factory. I don’t think they actually had to pry my hands off the bar, but it may have been possible. I was oblivious to anything but putting my feet back on the Mother Earth.
You’d of thought that would have been the end of it for me, but it wasn’t.
Ironically, after not being able to shoot the photos from the plane, my friend’s dad ended up hiring me to work at his factory. That led to another chapter in my life when he sold the company and it moved to Minnesota. I trekked to the great white north and actually enjoyed my job of doing state bidding on large snow plows.
As part of my job, the company decided we should do some trade shows. That meant flying. The first trip was from Minneapolis to Milwaukee. I’m not sure the plane ever did level off because those towns are so close. It was all over in about 30 minutes. I then took a trip to St. Louis and when we landed, it was in the middle of a storm. I just closed my eyes and finally breathed when the plane touched down.
Also in Minnesota, one of the owners of a nearby business invited me and my co-worker for lunch one day. Wow, we thought that was great. We promptly drove to the airport, boarded a four-seater and flew to St. Paul. I was petrified but felt proud of myself for not showing it that badly. My hands didn’t have to be pried off a bar, at least.
The next, and last time, I flew came a few years after that when I was living in rural Montana. I was involved with a Court TV show and it had been nominated for a cable television award. The ceremony was in Washington, D.C. That meant about a four hour drive to Minot, N.D., and then a flight to Minneapolis and a second flight from there to Washington. I was petrified again.
On the way back, the plane left Washington National Airport and right after we took off, it suddenly slowed down. I thought the end was near. As it turns out, it’s mandatory out of that airport that planes reduce speed to reduce noise. It didn’t help.
From then on, it was awful and I felt such a huge sigh of relief when those wheels touched down back in Minot. I was so happy to get off that plane and into my ultra-safe Dodge Omni to travel the high-speed roads of the Great Plains.
Since then, I have steered clear of any winged flight.
I’m still not exactly sure why I have such a deep fear. I think a lot of it is control. I’m the kind of person who will complain that I have to drive all of the time but won’t let Nicole drive, anyway. I can drive entire, long vacations all by myself. I do enjoy driving.
People always tell me how it’s so much more dangerous to drive than fly, but I’m not convinced. I think if you are a very cautious, safe and defensive driver, a lot of bad things can be diverted.
It’s probably pie-in-the-sky thinking on my part, but I can’t find any other way to reason this crazy fear I have of getting into an airplane. (I would get into the space shuttle if it was still flying, so you can now see I am certifiable.)
There’s just something about being in control and there’s also probably that fear of falling for a long period of time before slamming straight into the earth, leading to your demise.
I don’t really have this great fear of death, but maybe it’s the kind of death. I don’t know, I just can’t explain these things.
The whole fear thing is frustrating, but it won’t go away. It means I will likely never go to Hawaii or visit Europe, unless I can win the lottery and take a ship.
Maybe I should start playing the lottery.
Source: http://www.wayneindependent.com/opinions
