Memories Of Missouri
In the late 90s-Early Aughts, I was a IT consultant and traveled every week, 5-days a week. I was living in NYC and got assigned to a contract in Honolulu, Hawaii. Hawaii is a great place to be on vacation, but not a great place to work a contract.
It’s a 13 hour flight from NYC, and I was only allowed to go home every other weekend. So one weekend, a few months into this contract, I was flying home and the travel agent had messed up. Honolulu-Seattle-Memphis-NYC-LaGuardia… a Northwest Airline horrific adventure.
So I get on the plane in Hawaii in the evening, and as an air-warrior, I was upgraded to first class the whole way. Touch down in Sea-TAC around 4-5 AM, and I stumble off one plane, slept most of the way from HI, and onto the next.
Another plane, first class, and I’m in the first row, on the window. I’m passed out before we taxi because I have a gift. Some time later, over the Rockies, my neighbor, a very nice, older woman shakes my arm to wake me.
“We’ve lost an engine, we’re going down!!!” she exclaims. “And you woke me up why???” was literally my answer. This response gives me hope that I might one day be cool.
Turns out we lost one of the engines of our Airbus, landed perfectly fine, and then got to spend 14-hours in Montana at a tiny airport with one little bar that I got to know intimately. Missoula, Montana, I will always love you. Story credit: Reddit / (belinck)