On this date eleven years ago at approximately this time (or a little later), I was on a flight to Amsterdam from Newark. Maria, Aleda, and I had opportunities to live/study/work in Aberstwyth, Wales (our first choice) or Newcastle, UK (a distant second). I had already visited (and fell into) the former, but needed to experience the latter. There were (are?) no direct flights to Newcastle, so I had to fly into Amsterdam for a connecting leap. I spent the seven-hour journey next to a Norwegian woman who was (and I kid you not because she told me and I can confirm) six and a half feet tall. She spoke near perfect English. We drank a ton of cheap wine, told each other our stories (she was an athlete -- and well-known in her field events (no surprise) -- and a teacher) and laughed and drank and annoyed everyone around us and bribed the attendant for more wine. After five hours we finally passed out. The weight of her beautiful but giant head was on my shoulder as I drooled into her 80s-styled blonde hair. In the background of our inebriated slumber I heard instructions: we were near our destination and our seats needed to be upright. I pushed my reclining button and coaxed her, in the depth of her sleep, to move so that I could right her seat. The captain’s voice, in the distance of my stupor, notified the cabin that there was a pretty severe storm and that we should prepare for a bumpy ride. Normally, I’m terrified of turbulence, but I was in a wine-sleep-dream… And then the lightning struck and the plane did what they’re not supposed to do: Lights went out, engines stopped, and we were falling. Falling. Nearly weightless, my companion, about 8 inches and 80 pounds greater than I, latched into me like a massive clip-on koala as we dropped. Nothing. Dropping. No sound. Then screaming. Hours... but actually seconds and whirring, and the plane’s power was restored.
The captain broke the panic with, verbatim, “We, ah, were, ah, struck by, ah, lightning and, ah, lost power, but power is restored and our engines are… ah, we’re okay.” That's it.
I’m still bruised.
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