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Yesterday I was on a flight from Seattle to Washington DC. The man in the seat next to me kept staring out the window at the propeller. Now, I don’t know anything about planes, and frankly, I try not to think about what’s holding them up in the air. (My best guess is magic.) But he’d already mentioned that his last job was with [insert name of famous jet engine manufacturer] so I couldn’t help asking.
Me: Is everything okay?
Him: I’ve never actually flown on one of these planes before. If that thing goes [chin jerk toward propeller right outside my window] our only chance—and it’s not a very good one—is if it heads the other way.
Me: Ah.
Him: Yeah, my job at [aforementioned jet engine manufacturer] was to make sure all those nuts and bolts stay in the engine case where they belong. It’s not as easy as it sounds.
Me: Oh?
Him: Remember the time the bolts came off and the propeller took out the top of that plane and the pilot managed to land? He saved a lot of lives, but of course the passengers next to the propeller were all killed. They didn’t even find all the bits of them.
Me: I didn’t remember that, but I can guarantee that I’ll be giving it some thought the rest of this trip. So… wonder if any of our fellow passengers have been exposed to Ebola lately?
Him: [goes back to staring at the propeller.]
*****
So let’s review:
Flying? Not scary.
Passenger in next seat?
WAY scary.
What’s the strangest thing that’s ever happened to you on a plane?
Barb Taub 
Yeah, that’s pretty creepy. Who says things like that on a plane? 😀
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Man, I hate clowns. No explanation for it, but they creep me out to the point of nausea.
I took a small plane (that’s all we have in Northern Ontario) to Sudbury one time, and there was a total of maybe 12 seats, and no door to the cockpit. You could see the pilots and hear them talk. This is never good. One shouldn’t know what’s going on up there. Kind of like your parent’s bedroom.
It was very windy. Lightening. Rain. The pilot had his hand on this lever-type thing as we were heading in for what could only be a bumpy landing, when the co-pilot put his hand over the pilot’s hand so both were on this lever. I prayed they were just good friends but I knew better. It was an all-hands-on-deck kind of situation.
At one point we flew sideways. Then the bottom of the plane was vertical to the runway. There was screaming, crying, swearing, and eventually the other passengers joined me. But we landed safely, though it was very bumpy. The pilots were all smiles as they shook our hands and assured us there was never any problems. Nice guys, but evidently liars.
I worked for a large disposal company at the time. I made them drive me home in a roll-off truck.
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I’m not sure I’d ever have gotten on another plane again. But you Canadian chicks are probably way tougher!
In the old days, the trip between Champaign Illinois and Chicago was made in a tiny prop plane with just a line of seats down one side. The beverage service consisted of a 2-liter bottle of coke and a package of Dixie cups that passengers passed back along the seats. A friend swears there was a sign hanging behind the pilot’s chair “Don’t complain. We’re pedalling as fast as we can.” I don’t know if that’s true, because after we saw the dotted line painted around the cockpit with stencilled instructions to “cut in case of emergency landing”, we always drove up to Chicago.
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We were flying from New York to Montreal on our way overseas when suddenly our plane started to drop. We had a pilot friend flying with us. He kept looking at his watch and told us that they only had little more time to get the plane leveled or it wouldn’t be good. Relief, the plane leveled out. About twenty minutes later the pilot came on over the intercom and told us that we have been cleared to land. There was no decent like usual; we came down slightly hard which made me wonder how far off the ground we had been flying. We sat in the plane on the tarmac for five hours while they tried to fix a failed engine. Believe me when I say the passengers were restless. Finally, we were taken off the plane, the plane was flown back to New York to be fixed, and another plane brought in. I admit I was a little nervous about getting back into a plane to fly over the ocean.
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So, so scary! I’m hoping copious alcohol lubed your way.
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I rarely have enough money to fly. If I went to Europe, it would probably be in a small boat with the rocket scientist at the helm.
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Yes, but we’ve heard what you do on tables. Au natural. So you probably wouldn’t be allowed on any of the bigger boats.
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Barb, why were you on a propeller plane for such a long flight? Just wondering. Great story! Mary
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Turbo-prop. (But actually, I wondered the same thing!)
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I used to travel to El Paso, TX for work, and there were always other travelers returning from vacations in Mexico. Twice, I had an encounter with an oversized piñata. 1: I was held up in the security line by someone trying to put a Mickey Mouse piñata that was about my size, arms outstretched, through the carry-on x-ray. 2: I spent a flight with a giant clown head strapped into the seat next to me, because that was the only place it would fit.
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Strapped in, captive next to a giant clowns head? That’s cruel and unusual punishment, even by the subterranean standards of the aviation industry. Did you at least get industrial-strength booze coupons?
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No, and probably a good thing since the temptation to bash the piñata was pretty high already.
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I think that would have to count as justifiable homicide. For the public good. A service to greater humanity. Or at least really, really satisfying.
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Gosh, how awful! Sounds like that guy needs to keep his thoughts to himself. I don’t know what he was thinking!!
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I know exactly what he was thinking, because he pretty much said it all. What I don’t know is how the man gets himself onto airplanes. He’s just lucky he didn’t have to sit next to a giant clown head like Sarah did (above). That would take serious therapy and, possibly, recreational pharmaceuticals.
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Did a turbo prop to Jersey (CI) ages ago – never again! It took 3 hours to do what a jet would have done in 50 mins. I’d had 3 triple brandies by the time we landed and at that point I was feeling no pain. Good job that scary clown wasn’t in the seat next to me though!
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A moment of silence, please, for the passing of the good old days of multiple triple brandies in the friendly skies. In fact, on my recent flights there were numerous sternly delivered warnings against consumption of “personal” alcohol.
I ask you. Is this the freedom our forefathers fought and died for? Can’t you just see it now…”I’m sorry Mr. Washington and Mr. Adams. FAA regulations prohibit a bowl of rum punch or those plastic baggies full of 3-oz containers of whatever Ben Franklin slipped past the TSA guys. You can each have one of these mini bottles and a mixer. You can’t pay for them with those Continental Dollars either. Someone’s going to have to come up with a credit card. And I don’t care if he used to be president. If Thomas Jefferson disabled those lavatory smoke detectors again so he can smoke that disgusting pipe of his, we’re going to land at the next airport and have him removed from the plane.”
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Well said! 😉
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Ha! Sounds like you had a nervous traveller next to you Barb. Planes are actually very safe, and your seatmate may have done assemby but those same bolts are inspected and tightened in many scheduled maintenance periods. You are far less likely to die in an aircraft accident than a car accident. It’s just that you have no control in a plane and it seems scarier.
i used to fly around quite a bit and on one trip from Houston to Newark, I had an elderly lady next to me who was flying for the first time and was very nervous. It is easy to feel someome else’s fear when you are close, Likely a survival characteristic in evolution. Anyway, I explained all the noises to her – landing gear rumble, flap deployment, etc, as they happened. She seemed to calm down a bit but was still nervous. When we touched the runway she put her feet up on the back of the seat in front of her and pushed with both legs. I looked inquiringly at her and she turned red and admitted that she was just helping the pilot stop the plane. Ha! I guess it couldn’t hurt.
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Too funny! I just love the picture of the person in the row ahead feeling feet pushing his seatback, and then realizing it’s a little old lady helping the pilot to stop the plane. You couldn’t make this stuff up!
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Why?? Just why are people compelled to talk like that on airplanes? It’s like all sense and reason get sucked out the door right before they close and seal it up!
You always make me chuckle … and I love that you turned the convo to Ebola. I’ll be flying to Seattle next month. I’ll see if I can work that in. 😉
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My husband used to work for an aircraft manufacturer too. I’ll make sure he never talks like this.
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All you probably have to do is mention that he’ll be next up on my blog…
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I had a great time Barb reading your wonderous adventure and all the great comments … I’ve flown so often that it usually dosen’t affect me very much … except once, that was in Chad.
We were to go from the bush to the capitol on a plane owned by Conoco that allowed non-Conoco personnel to fill any extra seats that might be available after employees had taken their seat. (Turbo prop from the 50s [and we were in the 70s then] – two rows of seats and the pilot separated from the passengers with a shabby curtain.).
The flight was called and we took our seats … and many other people did the same, the flight was complete at this point I became aware that someone had broughf on board a cage with some chickens .. there was nowhere else for anyone to sit, but so the passengers kept boarding .. they just stood there waiting for the plane to take off.
The plane started revving up the engines … and I was thinking OMG this thing will never lift off the ground, when the co-pilot opened the curtain and let out a shout that a banshee would have been proud of.
Took about another 2 hours before we could take off … minus chickens and standing passengers.
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You’ve led such an adventurous life! Too bad about the chickens though…
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Yeah … at least in my youth. I think they were trying to take the chickens so sell in the market actually.
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