Friday, August 27, 2010

My First Flight

was to South Carolina to see my sister with my eleven-month old baby, Corrie. I was embarrassed to handle her with a body harness, but the travel agent insisted it was a good idea. People looked at me as if she was my puppy. Seated in bulkhead, she squirmed to the floor. I got ahold of her harness and gently lifted her up. Thank God for a short leash.

Omaha to Chicago was smooth. The Captain informed us flying east the weather would be turbulent. A business man cross the aisle repeatedly offered to hold Corrie. I thought he was a bit pushy. He insisted, "I make this trip every week, and it is going to be rough. Trust me." I did, and it was. We were tossed around like ice in a shaker. I questioned leaving home for this, but I wanted to see my sister.

The man was a blessing. I was scared to death, and she would have felt it. I wished I had a shoulder to lean on. Over and over he patted her back and sang "Possum up a tree stump, rabbit in a hole..." She laughed, felt safe and fell asleep on his shoulder. When we landed in South Carolina, he carried her off the plane and handed her to me.

I didn't know then that I would go on to log tens of thousands of air miles and each time remember what I learned from him: adapt, be of service, let others help me, and don't panic.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

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