（转） What
Courage Looks Like?
I know what courage looks like. I saw it on a flight I took six
years ago,
and only now can I speak of it without tears filling eyes at the
memory.
When our L1011 left the Orlando airport that Friday morning, we
were a
chipper, high-energy group. The early-morning flights hosted
mainly
professional people going to Atlanta for a day or two of business.
As I
looked around, I saw lots of designer suites, CEO-caliber
haircuts,
leather briefcases and all the trimmings of seasoned business
travelers. I
settled back for some light reading and the brief flight
ahead.
Immediately upon takeoff, it was clear that something was amiss.
The
aircraft was bumping up and down and jerking left to right. All
the
experienced travelers, including me, looked around with knowing
grins. Our
communal looks acknowledged to one another that we had experienced
minor
problems and disturbances before. If you fly much, you see these
things
and learn to act blasé about them.
We did not remain blasé for long. Minutes after we were airborne,
our
plane began dipping wildly and one wing lunged downward. The plane
climbed
higher but that didn’t help. It didn’t. The pilot soon made a
grave
announcement.
“We are having some difficulties,” he said. “At this time, it
appears we
have no nose-wheel steering. Our indicators show that our hydraulic
system
has failed. We will be returning to the Orlando airport at this
time.
Because of the lack of hydraulics, we are not sure our landing gear
will
lock, so the flight attendants will prepare you for a bumpy
landing. Also,
if you look out the windows, you will see that we are dumping fuel
from
the airplane. We want to have as little on board as possible in the
event
of a rough touchdown. ”
In other words, we were about to crash. No sight has ever been so
sobering
as that fuel, hundreds of gallons of it, streaming past my window
out of
the plane’s tanks. The flight attendants helped people get into
position
and comforted those who were already hysterical.
As I looked at the faces of my fellow business travelers, I was
stunned by
the changes I saw in their faces. Many looked visibly frightened
now. Even
the most stoic looked grim and ashen. Yes, their faces actually
looked
gray in color, something I’d never seen before. There was not
one
exception. No one faces death without fear, I thought. Everyone
lost
composure in one way or another.
I began searching the crowd for one person who felt peace and calm
that
true courage or great faith gives people in these events. I saw no
one.
Then a couple of rows to my left, I heard a still calm voice, a
woman’s
voice, speaking in an absolutely normal conversational tone. There
was no
tremor or tension. It was a lovely, even tone. I had to find the
source of
this voice.
All around, people cried. Many wailed and screamed. A few of the
men hold
onto their composure by gripping armrests and clenching teeth, but
their
fear was written all over them. Although my faith kept me from
hysteria, I
could not have spoken so calmly, so sweetly at this moment as the
assuring
voice I heard. Finally I saw her.
(2011-01-11 01:49:44) 
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