The whole day was bad.  Jen, Pax and I left for the airport late.  I unloaded the luggage, parked the car and ran to meet Jen at the ticketing counter of United Airlines at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport.  After two planes with mechanical issues and seven hours of delays, we finally stepped on to (the soon to be infamous) flight 729.

As we lifted off over the city of Chicago, little did I realize the ride we were about to take.  It all started about 250 miles outside of LaGuardia Airport.  I have never, in all my years of travel, experienced turbulence like that.  Up, down, and what felt like upside down we went.  The turbulence got worse and worse.  We tried approaching the airport multiple times and the pilot would have to pull up and climb back out for another try; over and over again.

Then it began… whimpers.  Screams…and like an epidemic, the chain reaction of people losing their lunch.  Then more screams and tears.

One thing I noticed as I tried to remain composed were the faces around me… everyone was scared.  The million-mile flier next to us, the businesswomen across the aisle, the young person two rows in front of me, the older gentlemen in the seat ahead… all trying to calm themselves.

We were so small and equally out of control.  First class and economy, young and old, affluent and lower class… not one of us had an advantage over the other.  People had no inhibition to pray out loud.

For a brief moment, it was like there wasn’t an atheist in sight and everyone believed in prayer…and then we landed.