I’ve Been Flying for almost Thirty Hours and The Flight Attendants Won’t Stop Crying

I’m not sure how much longer I can handle this. VOICES! STOP! I don’t care if they can hear me. <br><br>I love to fly. It’s not an obsession or a hobby, but the man spends a lot of time on airplanes, so once I reached my early 30s and had enough miles saved up, I decided to make the leap and train to become a flight attendant. I figured it would be a fun experience, an adventure every time I left home, and a chance to see the world. <br><br>It turned out to be none of those things. <br><br>I’m exhausted. I don’t like heights, and being crammed into a metal tube with several hundred strangers and their small children and their poor personal hygiene is an unmitigated nightmare. <br><br>But I’ve stuck with it. Like any job, there are some good days, a few great days, and a whole lot of bad ones. <br><br>Today’s been a bad one. <br><br>It started with a delay. One of the passengers, an older man, collapsed in the aisle as we were boarding. He died right on the tarmac while we were giving him CPR. The paramedics came a few minutes later and his son laid in the aisle, sobbing and holding his father’s hand, wailing in grief. All of the other passengers watched in silence as they wheeled the body bag out the jetway. Not a word was said until the captain came on the intercom to explain the delay.<br><br>I don’t know why they decided to wait until we were all already on the plane. I’ve seen situations like this turn into a long and arduous deplaning process. But today, for some reason, they loaded us all on first and just decided to let us sit there and stew while they dealt with it. <br><br>After what felt like an eternity, the captain’s voice came through the speakers again. “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay. You may turn on your phones and other electronic devices as we prepare for take off.” <br><br>The flight attendants stood up from their jump seats, wiped away their tears, and set off down the aisle to do their final checks of seatbelt and tray height. The lead flight attendant, Marsha, stopped to offer the grieving son a soda and some peanuts. <br><br>“Thank you. Sorry about this.” He sniffled. <br><br>“No, of course. Nothing to apologize for. I’m just so sorry there was nothing your father could do. Did he have a heart condition?” She asked gently. <br><br>“What? No. He was fine. He just grabbed his head and collapsed. Something must have happened. But not a heart attack.” <br><br>“Well, they’ll run some tests at the hospital. Maybe we’ll find out soon enough.” <br><br>The son was silent for a moment before he answered. “Yeah. Something tells me it was something on the plane that got him.” He looked in my direction and I felt a shiver run down my spine. <br><br>I thought he was just being superstitious, but I’ve never heard of something like this happening before. I’ve been an FA for almost five years and I’ve seen plenty of passengers get sick on the plane, get hurt, experience panic attacks, and more than a few who just wanted to get off the damn plane. But I’d never heard of a passenger dying on the plane before, especially not a quick death like that. <br><br>I began to wonder if he was right. Was something on this plane that killed him? <br><br>As everyone settled in for takeoff, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. <br><br>I did my job like I always did. Drinks, peanuts, more drinks, a few incident reports to write up.<br><br>I was writing up a description of an altercation between a passenger who was standing in the aisle and the passenger who was trying to get past him when Captain Hart called me up to the cabin. <br><br>“Was there a problem with one of the passengers?” I asked him. “I can go talk to them and-”<br><br>“No,” he said. “Nothing like that. I’d like to ask you a few questions.” <br><br>“Of course. But I think Marsha’s more in charge than me. Being the lead flight attendant and all.”<br><br>“No, no, you’re the one I need to talk to.” He insisted. <br><br>I was taken aback but I didn’t question him further. I just took the passenger log out of my pocket and handed it to him. “Is there something specific you wanted me to look up? This passenger have a history of-”<br><br>“No.” He rolled his eyes impatiently. He almost looked angry that I refused to understand. “No, it’s not that. I need to ask you some questions about the flight itself.” <br><br>I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. It was a delay, and we’re doing the whole shebang. What else do you need to know?”<br><br>“Can you tell me what the weather was like when we departed?”<br><br>I blinked. That seemed like a weird question. Especially considering he was the one who departed. “I don’t know. The windows aren’t really a priority when I’m doing drinks. Why did you call me in here? You know you can see out of the window yourself.”<br><br>Again, his tone turned sharp. “I don’t want to!! I want you to tell me!”<br><br>I recoiled. “OK, I think you’re just stressed about the delay. Probably guilty about what happened to that man. You don’t have to feel that way. It’s not your fault. Accidents happen and sometimes these things just can’t be helped. But if you want to talk, I am listening.” <br><br>“OK, listen then. What is your name?”<br><br>“I’m Rachel.”<br><br>“Thank you Rachael. I am Captain Hart.”<br><br>“Nice to meet you. Now please stop pretending you don’t know me.”<br><br>He leaned forward, his voice low and urgent. “Rachel, listen. Please. Just answer my questions. What is your name?”<br><br>“I am Rachel.” <br><br>“Rachel what?”<br><br>“Collins.” I was getting annoyed. <br><br>“And do you know where we are?” He asked. His voice was so urgent, the tone so scared, that it sent a shiver down my spine. <br><br>“We’re about 32,000 feet up, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.” <br><br>His face twisted into a mixture of shock and sadness. “How long have we been in the air?”<br><br>“I don’t know. Few hours?”<br><br>“Did you take off?”<br><br>“Yes. I did my safety demonstrations. We had that delay and-”<br><br>“We had a delay? What happened?”<br><br>I was getting sick of this game. I crossed my arms. “You know damn well what happened. That man collapsed in the aisle. I think he might have had a stroke and the delay was for the paramedics.”<br><br>“What man?”<br><br>“The man that died! God damn it, stop this! I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the act.” <br><br>“There is no man! I don’t know what you’re talking about! Just answer my questions, Rachel. This isn’t a game. Did you give your speech? Announce our flight directions?”<br><br>“Of course. We’re heading due east.”<br><br>“Do you know what your destination is?”<br><br>“New York City. JFK Airport.” <br><br>Captain Hart leaned back in his chair and steeped his fingers together. “I see. Thank you, Rachel. You’re free to go.”<br><br>I left the cabin and went back down to the plane. The passengers were all calmer now. One of the flight attendants was giving a demonstration on how to fasten a seatbelt to a young girl who couldn’t have been more than eight. <br><br>Me? I came straight here, to seat 34 C, and pulled out my notebook to write this out. <br><br>The flight attendants are crying and the Captain is talking to them in hushed tones at the front of the cabin. <br><br>But I don’t think that’s the same Captain who called me into the cabin. <br><br>And I don’t think this is the same plane I started on. <br><br>I’ve flown this route countless times. I know exactly how long it is. This flight started almost 30 hours ago. <br><br>And I’ve seen three suns rise and set since we departed.