How I Almost Died

Very Short Essay

Photo by Eva Darron on Unsplash

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In the Seattle-Tacoma Airport, Alaska Airlines offered $1,500 to any passenger who was willing to give up their seat on the direct flight to Spokane and take a flight that connected through Portland and would arrive in Spokane seven hours later than any of us had originally planned. Because of various mechanical and logistical problems, Alaska had to fly a number of pilots and flight attendants to Spokane so they could make their other flights and do their jobs.

But I was going to have dinner in Spokane with my siblings so I hesitated, pondered, called my wife, discussed the options with her, and then hurried to take the $1,500 offer.

I ended up being the ninth volunteer when they only needed eight.

Damn it.

I’m afraid of flying so this little adventure sent me directly into paranoia.

What if I was supposed to take that connecting flight to Portland because the direct flight to Spokane is going to crash and kill me?

And, conversely, what if it were lucky that I was the ninth volunteer and missed the connecting flight to Portland because that plane was destined to crash and kill me?

Then, before they started the boarding process for the direct flight to Spokane, the gate agent announced that we passengers might want to use the restroom because there were reports that it was going to be a turbulent flight.

Shit, I was going to die.

About 49% of me wanted to just leave the airport and go home. There have been a few times in my life when I’ve left airports because I was too paranoid to take my scheduled flight.

But the rational 51% pushed me onto the plane.

I wanted to see my siblings.

All went well until our approach into Spokane.

We hit mild turbulence that sent my mind into extreme turbulence.

This plane, I thought, is going to crash and I’m going to die.

But then I comforted myself by recalling that I have great life insurance which would ensure my wife and sons would be economically protected even as they grieved.

I also thought about the tax-free cash settlements that Alaska would pay to the families of any dead passengers.

My death would be an awful tragedy, I told myself, but my grieving family would survive.

And then the plane safely landed. A few people applauded. I turned to the woman sitting beside me.

“That was a little bit rough,” I said.

I smiled. She smiled.

Then she said, “I tried to volunteer for that Portland flight right after you did.”