As the plane taxied down the runway, the man across the aisle from me chattered away to the people next to him. I began reading. Once in the air, his row mates shut their lights off. Barely pausing, he turned to me and kept up his monologue for the rest of the flight.
The moment the plane landed, he fell silent. As he headed for the exit, he looked back at me.
“I’m petrified of flying,” he said. “Talking keeps me focused. Thanks.”
You can learn a lot from your fellow passengers. On that flight, I found out that talking can relieve stress. On another, the white-haired woman next to me taught me the importance of perseverance. When she learned that I was an educator, she started into a discussion about one of her sons.
A teacher told her that although her son was having trouble keeping up in school, there was one way he could learn: by hearing. So for the next 25 years, this woman read all her son’s assignments and books to him. Elementary school. High school. College. Even graduate school.
“It was hard at times,” she said. “We even took out a second mortgage to pay for the many books, and special taping equipment. But I was determined.”
As a result of her efforts, her son earned a Ph.D. in psychology, with a specialty in counseling. And she still shows the same resolve she always Adid, flying across the country to see him despite the punishment to her ailing body.
But maybe the most interesting lesson I learned took place during a midnight flight to Panama. The woman next to me was 80, and she was dressed in black. Her intricately designed veil, sewn with tiny diamond-shaped patterns, exposed her silver hair. Across the aisle from us sat a young woman with two small children and a baby.
About an hour into the flight, the plane bounced sharply. Then it plummeted, dropping silently through the inky sky. Passengers screamed. Some of them grabbed their seat mates. The woman with the three kids cried out, “We’re all going to die!”
I glanced with concern at my elderly flying companion, and saw to my astonishment that her face had broken into a wide smile. Then she burst into laughter, loud and long. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years!” she declared.
The plane continued its free fall. Then it righted itself. The lights came back on. People settled back in their seats.
Thanks to the woman in black, I realized there was a lighter side to flying. I learned that no matter how harried, how hassled or how fearful flying might be, you can always laugh it off.
Aly Col’n is reporting, writing and editing group leader and diversity program director with the Poynter Institute, a journalism school in St. Petersburg, Fla.
As the plane taxied down the runway, the man across the aisle from me chattered away to the people next to him. I began reading. Once in the air, his row mates shut their lights off. Barely pausing, he turned to me and kept up his monologue for the rest of the flight.
The moment the plane landed, he fell silent. As he headed for the exit, he looked back at me.
“I’m petrified of flying,” he said. “Talking keeps me focused. Thanks.”
You can learn a lot from your fellow passengers. On that flight, I found out that talking can relieve stress. On another, the white-haired woman next to me taught me the importance of perseverance. When she learned that I was an educator, she started into a discussion about one of her sons.
A teacher told her that although her son was having trouble keeping up in school, there was one way he could learn: by hearing. So for the next 25 years, this woman read all her son’s assignments and books to him. Elementary school. High school. College. Even graduate school.
“It was hard at times,” she said. “We even took out a second mortgage to pay for the many books, and special taping equipment. But I was determined.”
As a result of her efforts, her son earned a Ph.D. in psychology, with a specialty in counseling. And she still shows the same resolve she always Adid, flying across the country to see him despite the punishment to her ailing body.
But maybe the most interesting lesson I learned took place during a midnight flight to Panama. The woman next to me was 80, and she was dressed in black. Her intricately designed veil, sewn with tiny diamond-shaped patterns, exposed her silver hair. Across the aisle from us sat a young woman with two small children and a baby.
About an hour into the flight, the plane bounced sharply. Then it plummeted, dropping silently through the inky sky. Passengers screamed. Some of them grabbed their seat mates. The woman with the three kids cried out, “We’re all going to die!”
I glanced with concern at my elderly flying companion, and saw to my astonishment that her face had broken into a wide smile. Then she burst into laughter, loud and long. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years!” she declared.
The plane continued its free fall. Then it righted itself. The lights came back on. People settled back in their seats.
Thanks to the woman in black, I realized there was a lighter side to flying. I learned that no matter how harried, how hassled or how fearful flying might be, you can always laugh it off.
Aly Colón is reporting, writing and editing group leader and diversity program director with the Poynter Institute, a journalism school in St. Petersburg, Fla.
✓ Get the latest travel news, tips and commentary from Elliott’s E-Mail, the subversive newsletter from industry gadfly Christopher Elliott. You’ll travel like a pro. Sign up here. It’s free.
Sign up for my 
