by Beth Hermes

Created on: October 26, 2010   Last Updated: October 29, 2010

Maybe it's the new reality of being herded, stripped of pride and shoes, through tiny portals in single-file, like cows to slaughter. Whatever the reason, I have an intense fear of flying.

It wasn't always so. I was three or so when I took my first flight. How exciting it was to be strapped into the narrow seat and stare out the window at the scenery racing by as the plane accelerated down the runway. How I giggled when the nose of the plane lifted and the bottom dropped out of my tummy. Then the beverage cart came by and I was allowed to have an entire Coke all to myself!

What led to my fear? The B movies in the 1970s? Television footage of airplane crashes? Perhaps it was my friend, Lisa's comment: “If the guy next to you is named 'Jack,' don't use the conventional greeting or you'll ground the flight and incur the wrath of the rest of the passengers,” she warned before giving me a hug and assuring me that the cat would be fed and the plants would be watered until my return.

I worried the entire time I was gone that I'd never see Bella or my African violets again!

The upside is the comic relief to my fellow fliers. Once, I was seated beside a commercial airline pilot who took one look at my white knuckles clutching the armrest and asked why I was afraid of flying.

“The possibility of crashing,” I told him.

“The pilots know what they're doing,” he said, laughing. “Every landing is just a controlled crash!”

A few years ago, I sat in the airport bar with a few colleagues, enjoying a cocktail before our flight to the Midwest for a conference when I noticed the deep, angry red on the Color Radar Map on the television screen and the flashing alert that read, “Thirteen tornadoes and counting in the Midwest.” After a second cocktail, my friends wrestled me to the plane where I was scared to death, and schnockered, to boot!

These days, I mostly keep my feet on the ground and gaze at the photographs of my jet-setting friends, knowing that's the closest I'll likely get to Spain and Italy and Australia.

Thank God I wasn't born with feathers!

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