Blog 2: Response

In response to A Plane Ride to Remember, by Megan Christy

Planes don't scare me. I don't really think they ever did. Before 9/11, after 9/11, my worries about a plane haven't changed.

It's kinda funny, really.

I don't think about it. I go to the airport and all the security is just there. I don't stop and think about why. I don't think about why I can only have 3 ounces of shampoo in my carry-on, and why I can’t have water in my water bottle. I just go through security and complain about the line.

I don’t look at the people around me and question if they may be terrorists. I don’t watch as the plane pulls up to my gate and wonder if the engine is going to fail, or if the plane might break apart, of if someone is going to fly the plane – my plane – into a building.

I don’t think that I might die.

I line up to board the plane, joke with my brothers about cutting in line. I stand in line, I move at a snail’s pace toward the door. I step on board, always looking down at the sliver of light and ground between the gate and the plane. I smile at the stewardess.

I find a seat (window if I’m lucky) and settle down. I pull out my book, get comfy. Watch as people board.

A teenager. An older couple. A man in his 20’s. A family. A mother with her young child (oh, great. Screaming baby on this flight).

As the stewardess (excuse me, “flight attendant”) begins to give the safety lecture, signaling toward the exits and demonstrating how to use the oxygen masks, I only half-listen. It never really occurs to me that I might have to use this information.

Is it foolishness? I bet the people on those planes did the same things I did. Grabbed a book, turned on some music. Did the crossword puzzle or Sudoku. Tended to children. Napped. They never expected their plane to crash into the Pentagon, or into the Twin Towers.

Maybe it’s not foolishness. Maybe it’s the only way. Maybe it’s the only way, the American public, can still board an airplane. By convincing ourselves that we’re invincible. Not America. Not our planes. Not our country. Most definitely not MY plane. I’ve got a meeting to be at, a connecting flight to catch, a family member to see. There will be no delays, no turbulence. We don’t even list “no terrorism” in our lists of wishes for the flight.

Is there a middle ground? Someplace between forgetting and paranoia. We can’t live our daily lives in constant fear of terrorist attacks. We can’t see enemies on every street, around every corner. In every person that has a different skin tone or accent or faith. That’s no way to live, in a constant state of suspicion. But we also shouldn’t live in complete ignorance of the fact, ignoring the lives lost, the people who died in the attacks, the people who died trying to save strangers, the people dying in a war to allow us to live in blissful ignorance.