The Dangerous TWA
It was going to be an experience. Sixteen days in Europe without anyone I knew, and seeing the famous landmarks which I had only seen on postcards and television. But getting there required a trip on a TWA airplane. The words of Johnnie�s description of this airline on the movie Airplane echoed in my mind: �It�s big, and long, and it looks like a big Tylenol.� I only hoped that the plane would fly better than a Tylenol . . .
The plane reached breakaway speed. The nose quickly jolted up, and the plane jerked up with a sharp change of direction. I looked around, and it seemed as though everyone else was just going about their business as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Hadn�t they ever been on a smooth plane ride before? Once we reached our cruising altitude, the pilot said that we were going to hit some turbulence. With the upcoming events, I would soon begin to wonder whether that was the truth or just an excuse for bad piloting. The plane dropped suddenly, and it felt like the cord of an elevator had broken and the elevator was plummeting to its destruction. Fortunately, the short drop ended as swiftly as it had begun. This happened a few more times, and I began to wonder about the pilot�s skill. My doubts were confirmed as we landed in St. Louis�s airport. Our landing was rough to say the least. It felt like I was sitting in a soft recliner that just happened to fall five feet and hit the floor hard. Eventually, I did arrive in a London airport safely, and I wouldn�t have to ride on that awful airline for another couple of weeks.
Four days after my experience, another interesting moment came aboard a bus. Some of my travel mates decided that they wanted to see what was going on in our home country. Naturally, they went to the store and bought the latest issue of USA Today. On the front page was an important article that read �TWA flight 800 explodes over the Atlantic.� The fact that the same airline I was going to ride on had a tragedy was only one coincidence. Flight 800 took off from the same airport that was going to be my first stop coming back to the United States, a group of young people was aboard that flight and was also going to Europe, and the plane was the same size as the one on which I was to ride. Other people on board the bus were disturbed, to say the least. However, I thought that these coincidences were comforting. Since the explosion could have resulted from a bomb, airport security would be increased throughout the international airports. This would make traveling more safe, not less safe. Furthermore, those kinds of disasters don�t happen regularly, so the close proximity of our departure to that tragedy would also increase our chances of coming home in one piece. But, there still was another adventure awaiting us.
The day of our departure didn�t start out like a normal day. We had to leave our motel in Rothemburg, Germany, at 5:00 a.m. Even though we left that early, we still arrived at the airport late due to a massive traffic jam. As we tried to check in as quickly as possible, an explosion rang throughout our area. Everyone�s first reflex told them to get down. Everyone in the concourse looked around, trying to figure out where the explosion came from. There was no answer. We all were a little worried, but since airport security wasn�t rushing through the area, we figured that the explosion couldn�t have been too bad. While we were checking in our luggage, the airport attendants told us what had happened. Somebody had left his or her bag unattended for a long period of time. When security was notified, they had no choice but to destroy the bag. As it turned out, the bag contained a deadly explosive called cat food. I guess one animal had a little less food to eat. There was still one more event that had to occur. When the plane was fully loaded, a piece of stripping detached from the overhead luggage compartments. It barely missed me, but it did hit a lady on the forehead and created a rather large cut. All the people on board were disturbed, wondering if the plane�s quality was that bad everywhere on board. But, the flight attendants treated the incident as best as they could. Evidently, planes falling apart must be a common experience when flying with TWA. The rest of the trip home went without event, other than the usual feeling that the plane was going to fall apart as it shook, the terrible service, and, of course, the incredibly rough landings.
Throughout the experience of that which we call TWA, I learned what it meant to fly fourth class. Well, maybe fifth. Okay, I guess seventh or eighth class would be more accurate. And that�s only because I�m not an airline critic. Most importantly, I learned the most valuable lesson someone could learn about airlines: Never, under any circumstance, fly with TWA. I also came to the realization that when you have the time of your life and nothing goes wrong on a wonderful vacation, there must be some bad things thrown in with the good. Bad things could range from bad plane rides to the time I missed the bus in London. But, that�s an entirely different story.