December 22, 2019 - 100 - "Writer's Award - Helpful Strangers - Hijackings"

   

Yes.  I made myself a certificate. 
Sometimes the best prizes are self-bestowed.
I'm thinking of printing it and hanging it in my office.  

First:  A Celebration!

     100 days ago today,  I wrote 'Our Daily Thread' where I had a psychotic episode and said I would post every stinkin' day.  

     And here we are, 100 days later...and I did exactly that.  (!!!)

     I am incredibly proud of (and not a little bit surprised by) this accomplishment. There have been some pretty challenging days in the past three months, and I have managed to squeeze in time to write.  Not bragging about the quality of each day's post, that's pretty iffy, but I am definitely giving myself an A+ for consistency.  ("Go Susan Go!", said to myself in crazy-talking-to-herself-chick whisper.  (See "Go Susan Go")

    I'm very buoyed by the response.  Thanks very much to my encouraging friends who've kept me going.  (Thank you Michael, thank you, Cynthia, and thank you consistent reader-in-Portugal!  You all rock!)

    Yay!  Here's to making it to 200 posts!

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    And now to the actual scribbles of the day...

Weird Stories Week

     I have heard the world's weirdest stories in the last few days.  I'm on day 4 of flying six days in a row.  I got in this morning from San Jose, and leave in the morning for a trip that winds up tomorrow night in Salt Lake City.  For whatever reason...it feels like people have been searching me out to tell me the oddest things.

     There were several instances of this during my trips...but the strangest one was this afternoon. 

Not Finished With Christmas Errands After All

     I got in from a two-day trip, came home, changed clothes, and Michael and I went out for a late lunch and to run some errands.  (You know how I said I was completely done with my Christmas shopping?  I lied.)  I forgot that I'm flying into Christmas Eve.  

    It's kind of a tradition to bring little presents to fellow crew members.  It can really mean a lot when you're on the road away from home and loved ones.  My first year as a flight attendant I worked every single holiday.  On Christmas morning I boarded a flight and our First Officer gave each crewmember wrapped photo albums.  (This was back in the day when we all actually printed out pictures.  Most flight attendants had albums of photos so we could share our 'real' lives with each other, and also for us to look at and remind ourselves what our friends and families looked like.)  

    Anyway, that was the only gift I'd received that Christmas and I burst into tears.  It can be fun and exciting to be in foreign lands having adventures during the holidays...but it can also be cold and dehumanizing.

     So, I make it a point to get a little something for my crews when I fly during Christmas.  

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 Into The Shopping Fray

    Michael and I first went to a store where I've bought cute little airplane Christmas ornaments the last few times I've flown around Christmas. Unfortunately,  the store no longer carries them.

     So then I just got some cute boxes and candies, gums, little snacks and treats to put in them.  Then we went by a craft store to look for something (anything) with a travel-related vibe, to personalize the gifts a bit.

     I was on the aisle with stickers and cutouts.  it was a loooong aisle of floor to ceiling stickers...there were even extra sliding shelves that went in front of the others.  A woman was already looking through the overwhelming masses of stickers.  I said:  If you happen to notice any airplanes, please shout out.

    She said:  "Oh.  I just saw some.", and pointed right to them.

    Boy, did I ever ask the right person, I thought.  

Strange Revelations

Me:  Thank you soooo much!  You saved me a lot of looking.  (I found some perfect little airplane cutouts and started to leave.   The woman pointed out some more.)

Me:  "Oh these are great.  I'm a flight attendant and these are perfect to make name tags for some gifts for my crew tomorrow.

Woman:  Oh.  I pray for you all the time.

Me:  Well, thank you.  That's so kind of you.

Woman:  I never fly anymore.

Me:  (A little distracted, half thinking of how I was going to assemble these gifts.)  Did you have a bad experience?  (I hear a lot of bad airline/flying/travel experience stories when people hear what I do for a living.  I was hoping her complaint session wasn't going to be long and was half-turning to go.)

Woman:  Yes.  When I was 13 I was on a plane that was hijacked to Cuba.

Me:  Uh....What!?  (She now had my full attention.)

Woman:  I was traveling by myself between my boarding school in Miami and my home in Laredo.  (Or the other way around.  I'm not completely sure I got this right.)  We had a stopover in New Orleans where the other two kids I was traveling with were getting off.  We were noticing that we weren't seeing the shoreline of the Gulf.  (of Mexico...off the Southeastern U.S.)  That's when the captain came on and said we were making an unscheduled stop in Havana.

     We discussed this event a little more, then Michael walked up.  She sort of summed up the event by saying that's why she hates to travel, and I said I could certainly understand that.  The woman and I exchanged 'Merry Christmases' and Michael and I went to check out.  

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I told Michael a little about her story as we waited in line to pay. 

Me:  What are the odds I'd meet that woman, and learn that about her life?

Michael:  She's probably one in a million who've had that experience.

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     When I got home I tried to look up information about her flight.  I had the airline and approximate date.  Turns out there were 130 hijackings of U.S. carriers in a four year period between 1968 and 1972.  

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     A little later I called my mom to wish her a Happy Birthday.  We talked a while, and I told her this story.  She said:  "I knew a woman who was in a hijacking to Cuba."

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     LOL . Huh.  Well, maybe the odds aren't one in a million after all?

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"Danger is very real, but fear is a choice."

-Unknown

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"Facts are stubborn, but statistics are more pliable."

-Mark Twain

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