Thursday evening a commuter plane goes down near Buffalo, NY. It slams into a house and one person dies in the house. I worry about that little airport in Manassas and a plane coming into our house. But mostly, I hate to fly. I just hate it, it's not natural or normal to fly in a silver tube across the sky. Even if Cpt. Sully was the pilot I may feel better but I would still hate it. I used to not be that way, I used to love to fly but not anymore. It's gotten worse as I have gotten older. I hate it even more when I fly without the kids. I guess my rational is if the kids were with me, we'd go together-Michael too of course but flying to Aunt Lou's funeral was nutty for me.
Bless those poor people and their families. I guess it was 30 seconds of pitching before crash. It must have been the worst and longest 30 seconds, their final seconds of life.
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