Hi Bill, please share your scary experience in the air. What happened?...
All I can say is the recent blown off roof situation with Southwest Air...
I didn't know anything about the Southwest Air thing you mentioned. A google provided this below... don't read if you don't want to take the chance of increasing your fear of flying. (For the fearless, read that last story about the pilot who survived a cockpit window blowout! I bet he counted his lucky stars.)
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/42434710/ns/travel-news/As for my story, I have written about this at length over the years, I wish I could find it. Another attempt...
Flying back to USA from Bahamas, probably 1982. I told my biz partner I was going to leave our middle section seats in a big L-1011 (I think that was the model), as I wanted a window seat to view the Bahama banks. I was studying geology at the time and wanted to check out the deposition patterns from way up high.
So, I took a window seat after we got up a ways. I was also a student pilot and loved to fly. Knew a bit about flying. Before we reached cruise altitude, I sensed that we were not climbing and I knew for sure that we had not come close to 36,000 feet, which is what the pilot had said we would cruise at. So, I had a hmmmm moment. Checked the engines on my side and asked the guy next to me to step over and look out the window and view engines on the other side. No problems. After a few minutes, I told him, Something is wrong, I just know it. This ain't right.
Not long after, the oxygen masks of the entire airplane cascaded down. Began at the front of the airplane, advancing to the rear rapidly. Only took a second or two. Kind of like a row of dominoes falling. One lady screamed out "Help me Jesus." That was not a good sign.
The stewardesses scrambled around and the one that passed me in a dead run had the fear of God in her face. After a while, a pilot came on and said something about listening to the flight attendants about how to use your oxygen mask. I put my on but couldn't tell anything was happening. I guess I expected a rush of air or something, haha.
As all of this was going on, I thought we were going to die. Actually, I rapidly began to plan how to survive. After a minute or so, I jumped up and went back to my partner and his wife. She was crying. I thought to myself, "Man, I don't want to die, I ain't ready. Dang it, mama." My life rushed before my eyes, no fooling. I remember thinking of newspaper headlines about us crashing out there.
So, I'm thinking, where are the exit doors? Okay, I gotta get my butt out that door and tread water and fight off the sharks, but I'm going to try to live. I guess it was the most afraid I've ever been regarding imminent death. Except that time that I fooled around with Jerry Sue Wadsworth and didn't know she had a boyfriend, an ex-NFL linebacker who lost his football fortune and joined the Hell's Angels, and who came home unexpectedly. I ran like a whipped puppy. Glad I had taken a cab to her house and my car was elsewhere because if I had stopped to get in my car, he would've killed me. I ran my ass off, shuckin' and jivin' through the neighborhood. Whew, close one! Man, she shoulda tole me dat! Sometimes, I think women don't care if you get killed. Like some kind of sordid game.
Back to the Atlantic...
It took forever for them to explain that they had incurred loss of pressurization. All this time, we are going down, down, down. That is what was so nerve-wracking. The going down part and there ain't nothing out there but water. There is no land in sight. After another long wait, the pilot announced that he was going to descend to a few thousand feet and establish cruise at that elevation. It looked like you could touch the water but it was probably 5,000 feet.
After a long time (I don't know how long but I'm guessing over 30 minutes), he came on and said that they think a baggage door popped open and that we would be okay, but that he would remain at that altitude but he could not land in Florida for some reason and would go ahead and fly to Atlanta, Georgia, our scheduled arrival airport. Okay, we're going to live, fine.
Wrong. We got to the mainland and there are thunderstorms popping everywhere and we had had blue skies over the ocean. They are so numerous, he, apparently, could not fly around all of them. The ride is the worse airplane ride of my life and I've been on some doozies. That plane is bouncing around all over the place. Some drops, you'd lose your stomach. I'm a pilot, I love to fly and somewhat of a daredevil, but that was not fun. People were scared out of their wits and it was really quite something.
Once we touched down, my partner said she would never fly again. I don't know if she has stuck to that. When I got back to my office, I felt I must write Delta airlines and tell them that IMO, somebody should have calmed us down FAR earlier than when they did. Tell us that we had not been attacked or something and hey, just checking things out as we descend down to where you can breathe without oxygen. They wrote me back after several weeks and the letter, IMO, was somewhat condescending. Not very apologetic, the tone was... the pilots were doing all they could to figure out what was going on, so "kwitcherbichin." I was not rude in my letter, just stating my case. I still think they should not have kept us in the dark for so long with us thinking that we were going to crash. I mean, heck, the stewardesses were instructing us on how to survive crash impact and what to do in the ocean. It was badass. Of course, they had no choice but to do that in the first few minutes.
As for flying since, yes, I have, and have had no problems. Except, last time I flew, I made the comment that I may not ever fly again if I can't fly first class. I have not flown in quite a few years until a few months ago, and I promise you, I have not grown. But the seats have shrunk, I just know it. I could not get comfortable, no matter which way I turned. I'm 6'2", not a giant but not short. I was miserable. And then, the hassle of airport security. What a PITA.