Catching the wind

An outlook on flying

Catching the Wind

 

            Since the dawn of time, man has longed to take flight with the creatures of the air. Isaiah 40:31 talks of soaring on the wings of eagles. In 1903 the Wright brothers succeeded in making a dream a reality, and man began to fly. I love to fly. I love the thought of adventure at the awaiting destination, and the thrill of coming home again. Every day, millions of people put their lives in the hands of two men, a bunch of steel, and six little flaps on the wings that catch the air and give the plane lift. On my last flight, I counted 46 rows of six people each. If each person weighed 150 pounds, that would equal over 20 tons of human weight alone, not to mention the baggage, and the plane itself. That is an enormous amount of weight to put on these tiny flaps, and it seems impossible that they are the reason we are able to ascend beyond the clouds.

            The first time I flew on a plane was to my grandma’s house in San Francisco. I was seven years old. We left for the airport at eight in the morning and when we arrived, I checked in my bag and went to the gate. Since this was before 9/11, my mom and all my siblings were able to come to the gate with me. When we checked in at the gate, I got a special pin that said I was under the age of twelve and flying alone. The airline workers pestered me with hundreds of inane questions about my carryon, like if it had been out of my sight for a long time, or if anyone had put something in it.

Of course my first flight would be delayed, if only to draw out the suspense a little while longer. Due to thunderstorms, we were in the waiting area for five hours. We left the gate many times to find a payphone to call my grandma, and every time we left I was afraid I would miss my flight, but finally the moment came. The people behind the counter said it was time to board. Because I was under 12, I was considered pre-board, and was allowed on the plane 15 minutes before everyone else. I got to take my pick of whatever seat I wanted, and took the seat by the wing. I picked that seat because my older brother said that it was the best seat for seeing the scenery on the ground. Oh, the cruelty of older brothers. Being the only child on the flight, I was given the express privilege of going into the cockpit and “flying the plane,” but only for a moment because I had to get back to my seat for takeoff. I did not want to hear about crashing on my first flight so I did not listen to what I call the pre-flight show, but others would call safety instructions.

The take off was the best part because I got to chew gum. I didn’t know why my mom had said to chew gum while taking off; all I knew was that I was allowed to chew gum. During take off was the first time I ever heard the flaps, and the noise was pretty loud because I was next to the wing. I was extremely concerned, but forgot about it when I saw the clouds moving over the wings and creating an air current. When I learned that I was allowed to have all the free soda I wanted, I was in seven-year-old heaven. I think I had six sodas during the 45-minute flight, so naturally I had to use the bathroom, but was not aware that there was one on board. To make things worse, the vent was open full blast and I didn’t know how to close it. I was freezing. When we hit some turbulence during the flight, I began to wish I had paid more attention to the “in case we crash” directions. We landed without any problems, but the jolt when we touched down was pretty startling. As I was waiting for the crowd to clear, I heard over the loudspeaker, “Arielle Messina, please come to the front of the plane.” I was momentarily terrified, because I thought I was in trouble. I recovered quickly when I realized I could get through the crowd of people faster. The stewardess escorted me off the plane, through the terminal, and into my grandma’s arms. The first thing she asked me was, “How was your flight?” “Fine,” I said, “can we find a bathroom?

            I still don’t listen to the pre-flight show, and if given the choice, I don’t sit next to the wing. I now know that there is a bathroom on board, but no matter how bad I need to use it, I am always too afraid to get up. Partly because I don’t want to fall, partly because I am afraid I will get lost in the back of the plane. I’ve learned how to open and close the air vents, use the reading lights, and call for the stewardess. I know that on some flights they have room to hang a garment bag. Some flights, you have to sit and cringe as someone stuffs another bag into the overhead bin where your bridesmaid dress is. I still don’t know why you are supposed to chew gum on takeoff, and the jolt on landing still startles me. If you sit in the back of the plane, you will notice it sways – a lot. It almost feels like you are taxiing down the runway when you are sitting still. It is by far my favorite place to sit because you don’t feel the landing.

            Most of the time when I fly now, I am flying home from college. Every time, I am just as excited as the first time I flew. The majority of the experience is the same as then; the flight attendants still rush up and down the aisle to make sure bins are closed, bags are stowed properly, trays and seats are in their upright and locked position, and seatbelts are buckled. I know that I will still be allowed all the free soda I want, and I know that there is also a snack waiting for me. The pre-flight show is still the same as before, but now on a television instead of demonstrated by the flight attendants. A new announcement is made about cell phones that was not said the first time I flew. I also know that none of the children on board will ever be allowed to go into the cockpit and “fly the plane” as I did. I close my eyes as we begin to taxi out and a few minutes later the plane stops, signaling that we are at the end of the runway. I hear the engines get louder, the inside lights are dimmed, and I feel the G-forces against my body as we speed up. I don’t even feel the plane take off anymore. We are on the ground one moment and the next we are flying over the zoo and baseball stadium. I hear the flaps on the wings move to bring us higher. When we hit turbulence, I always reach for the emergency card in the pouch in front of me, and check to see if there really is a red tab under my seat to make it a floatation device.

As the captain gives the 20 minute warning, I put up my window shade and look around. I try to find streets I am familiar with. It has been raining so I see green hills that are normally brown. I glance out the window across the aisle, and my mountains are covered with snow. This marvelous machine has brought me home to a familiar place that I love. I grip the armrests in anticipation of the landing and pray that the wheels don’t malfunction. We taxi to the gate, the pilot turns off the seatbelt light, people jump up, and I watch them hurriedly gather their thing. I listen closely to hear the flaps that brought us soaring above the clouds come to their final landing position, and only then do I gather my things, thank the stewardess, and step off the plane.

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[MoriartyMesa]

Something tells me you love that feeling.