March 15/365 September 8, 1994

When Flight 427 dove into a hillside, I was working a flight on A Concourse with Ed. Final call, no problems, so he pulled the jet way. Then the supervisors disappeared. Something was happening on B, where people were waiting for a flight from Chicago. The coward in me was thankful that I worked on A.

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7 thoughts on “March 15/365 September 8, 1994

  1. No coward.
    I was momentarily confused while reading this because one of my cousins was a flight attendant who met her husband, Ed, when he was a pilot working for the same airline.

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  2. I don’t see that as cowardly either.

    I had to look up Flight 427. A plane crash is near the top of my list of ways I don’t want to die. I imagine it would be so terrifying. Plus, your last meal may have been airplane food.

    Liked by 1 person

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