My fear doesn’t stem from claustrophobia or heights. It’s the complete lack of control that I hate. Once I’m strapped in and the plane pulls away from the gate, I’m powerless to do anything except poop and pray.  My life is in the hands of somebody I don’t know and can’t see, but am supposed to trust to keep us from becoming a tragic side story on the evening news.

Whenever I explain this fear to people, they never fail to cite the statistical safety of the airlines and remind me that, while driving, I may have control over my own car but none over the thousands of other vehicles around me. I’m not going to discount that argument, but I believe there is a significant gap in situational awareness that would make a plane crash much worse than a car crash.  Car accidents are instantaneous, making it difficult to form even a single thought before you slam into that tree, but when you’re 60,000 feet in the air, there is a much more significant time gap between something going wrong, and everybody dying…plenty of time to panic. Every time the plane gives a sudden jerk or dip in altitude, two hundred silent prayers fill the cabin, because at this point relying on a higher power is the only option.  Now, if that turbulence doesn’t relent and the plane starts to fall, prayer turns to panic, and one person screaming causes another person to scream, and before you find the nerve to blink, you’re surrounded by dozens of people who all think that they’re about to die.  Not to mention that the free fall has only begun, and you still have a solid minute worth of unending terror to witness the depths of cowardice man can reach when faced with imminent death.  You might even discover that you’re one of the many, paralyzed by fear, crying out to be saved by a god that, five minutes ago, you weren’t even sure existed.

I understand the odds are slim, but finding out that I’m a total pussy along with a hundred other screaming strangers is not how I picture spending my final moments. Although on the bright side, at least no one outside of the cabin will ever know how pathetic the scene was before the plane hit the ground (mountain or ocean).  Therefore, our loved ones are free to imagine a more valiant end than a tin can full of people pissing themselves.

***Disclaimer:  I base the majority of the above information on projections that my own imagination has constructed from t.v. and movies. None of it was derived from anything remotely resembling a credible source.