Pounding Heart Stops

Not a good start to this beauitful day~

This morning, I woke to a pounding heart. It was a little faster than usual and never this loud. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom...
and then it stopped.
"OH MY GOSH I'm DEAD," I thought.
Then I heard the front door opening...
Now wide awake, I realized the boomimg was my husband walking across the foyer in sock feet. GOSH! Definately not a good way to start my day.
iJune

The Charm of the British (Chapter 2)

I closed my book and checked if anything was in view from the plane. There, in the distance I could see the distinctive White Cliffs of Dover. Ah, England, beautiful England was in sight.

This flight had been a make -up flight for all who had been aboard the near disaster on yesterday's flight.
This flight had been smooth and was so glad to finally be on my way without any problems.

A group of men were standing, drinks in hand and chatting. One of them looked my way and walked over. He was tall, nice looking and wore a expensive suit . Sort of a Roger Moore type.
"Do you mind if I sit and visit for awhile?" His beautiful British accent was very charming.

Another question was out even before introducing himself, "And just how long will you be in Cairo?" he asked as he slid into the big seat beside me.

Since this plane wasn't going to Cairo, a red flag went up for me. I came from years of being the wife of an Intelligence Officer. Of course, what may seem paranoid to most, becomes second nature

over the years. Why? It is

just the way the game is played. We are warned of this and that.

For sure, it is said, if a person wants to know what your husband is thinking, just ask the wife.

I gave him a blank look ~ he smiled and continued~"How do I know
you are going to Cairo?" he continued in his most charming accent, "I
was standing behind you when you were on the phone at the Miami Airport last evening."

We talked the small talk while, in my head I replayed my phone conversation the evening before to see when and why I would have mentioned my destination. Actually, I didn't. I then shook any paranoia and let the red flag fly high.

If someone felt my trips important enough to monitor, I didn't mind. Would be like having a body guard wouldn't it? That is a safe feeling. He made me feel safe.

Continued...

Emergency Aboard 747 (Chapter 1)

The flight from Miami to London and on to Cairo, Egypt turned into a nightmare.

First a small problem compared to the rest~ I found my seat assignment wrong...who in the world put me in the very back of the plane ~little did I know that someone was 'someone up there' looking after me I later came to realize.

The large 747 Aircraft wasn't full therefore, I promptly asked an attendant if I could move to a seat up front where I usually fly. The attendant asked me to wait until we were airborne.

We were still at the gate when, down the aisle came loud shouting...kicking, banging ~ the biggest commotion you could imagine. He was yelling in a foreign language which I thought to be Arabic. Whatever was going on, was coming closer and closer until the shamble was brought to the last section where I was unhappily seated. All passengers aboard were on our feet, as was I. This was shocking to see and hear. We certainly had concerns and a little fear as well, I could say.

There before us, were four Airport Security Guards dragging a young foreigner as he wouldn't walk. He was the one doing all the yelling. He was totally disheveled. ... I could see he was bound by chains fastened around the ankles and wrists yet profoundly resisting his fate whatever he thought that to be.

He rattled the chains to make as much noise as he could along with yelling. He knew how to make a scene, for sure.

No one understood what he was screaming but the word buzzed through the plane that he was to be shackled to a back seat and returned to the country from which he had came as a stow-away.

Ah Ha, I thought...With all this going on as a diversion, was a good time to move to a better seat up front. If I had left my carry-on behind to come for later, might have made it, but the attendant saw me carrying my carry-on bag, which tipped her that I wasn't going to the restroom. She promptly ordered me back to my assigned seat.

"I thought I told you to wait until we were up!" she said as if talking to a child.
RATS~ I thought and returned to the back where all the disturbance was ongoing.

The Aircraft Commander, Senior Pilot was on the scene now. Everything had settled down to see what this man had to say.

"Sirs, I am asking you to remove this man from the plane," he spoke in a nice manner.

The Guards said something that I couldn't hear and the Pilot stated that he was in command of this craft and had the last say in any matter that occurred on his plane.

He told the guards his passengers were threatening to deplane before flying with this disturbance aboard and therefore

he order them to remove their prisoner from the plane at once.

He firmly stated that there was no authority above his for this flight.

They left with the shackled man who went quietly at this point.

We were finally airborne; I had a nice seat up front and all was going well. Everyone was settled down for the long trans-Atlantic flight.

Twenty minutes into the flight and over the Atlantic Ocean,

there was a loud boom. It was an explosion. The plane began to shake...shake...shake...

I could hear people on the other side of the plane ...their talking turned to panic talking and crying. The Attendants ran to gather around.

Everyone else sat in silence waiting...we KNEW. This wasn't good.
For sure,

we had a real emergency aboard the big beautiful 747.

I have always been grateful to have been sitting on the other side of the plane and not seen the damaged and burning engine #3.

I do well without that scene imprinted into my memory.

There are fire extinguishers on the engines but they had been damaged and the engine had torn away from the wing...I was later told. The Pilot who had taken care of us earlier come on the PA and ordered the Attendants to be seated and cabin service would be discontinued.

The passengers were quiet and several skirmished about to sit with their family. Many were going to the back of the plane. Guess they thought it to be safer...and I had given my seat in that area.

Being alone, I moved to a window seat.

Whatever happened, I wanted full view.

The intercom was on again, and our pilot restated ordering all passangers to be seated with seat belts securely fastened...

then he said

"Remember, your seat cushion also serves as a floation device."

With those words the full impact of possibilities hit me.

For the first time, FEAR shot through me.

We might not make it.

I don't like fear so dismissed it immediately.

We were ok, I told myself, we would be ok, I told myself and believed it.

Minutes passed~ and The plane stopped shaking...we were flying ok

but going down.

The word was passed around, they had finally jettisoned the damaged engine from the plane.

No one uttered a word. We all sat silently, waiting.

We were descending over the ocean...

"We are going in," I thought. (into the ocean)

I looked at the time...would we make the 6 o'clock News?

Would my family know it was my plane? Would they worry about me?

All these thoughts went through my mind. THEN,

I remembered seeing the movie "Airplane" where a 747 landed on the ocean...and floated for a long time.

Everyone got out by jumping down the chutes.

I could now see a cargo ship below...

we were circling it getting lower and lower.

"OK, I thought, this won't be so bad...we land on water, jump down the chutes...get picked up by a passing ship...GREAT STORY to tell," I thought and even got excited.

Excitement is a good thing to have, especially if the only other choice would be fear.

To me, it sounded like one hell of a thrill.

I had it all thought out.

The pilot came back on the intercom to confirm

we had lost engine #3 and assure us by saying the plane was designed to fly from Miami to London on only one of the powerful engines,

however,

that wasn't the best plan. He then explained that we would jettison all the fuel from the plane and return to Miami.

"If you will look out the window," he said, "you will see the fuel being dumped into the ocean. We will dump enough fuel to power each of your cars for a full year."

He explained this would take about 30 minutes and then we would be on our way back to Miami.

The photographer in me took this picture...see the fuel streaming from the tip of the wing?

At Miami International Airport, we were met with full emergengy squads lined along the runway...they held back all air traffic for us to get back down.

Our pilot was a hero in his management of all crisis. All of this...and we didn't even make the evening news. Can you imagine that happening in our terror minded world today?

I had a Telex to send to Cairo and phone calls to make.

Nancy, my friend who lived in London was to meet me there for a 6 hour layover before my plane left for Cairo. They needed to know I would be a day late as well.

The airline put us up overnight to start with a new plane the next day.

My pilot husband explained a few things.

He said the pilot descended because a plane burns more fuel at a lower altitude and the he also added what I probably didn't need to ever know.

He said the movie "Airplane" was just that,
a movie...and went on to say a

747 aircraft, upon impact with water, would break up.

WHEW...am I glad I didn't know that.

iJune

Stories ~All True ~ Featuring Many Roles on Life's Stage: Egypt

Stories ~All True ~ Featuring Many Roles on Life's Stage: Egypt

Egypt

My father cried when he saw my album chunked full of photos taken over the three weeks I was in Egypt.

This album took a couple of weeks to put together. Along with photos I added stuff from the trip. Egyptian airplane tickets, museum tickets, in Arabic, Egyptian money (pound)~ colorful flyers were cut to use the words needed to enhance and discribe. Then a ton of photos of Egypt and, of course me. There are also photos of the handsome Egyptian General and his wife who sponsored me. The photo album photo/scrap book helps bring the full experience of the trip alive for sure.

Doing this helped me preserve more than the photos...I relived the trip.

I was the guest of our Egyptian friends whom we had known for the year they were in the states on an assignment. After they returned to Egypt, they invited me over to stay two months. To me, two months was unheard of and even three weeks was skidding beyond polite, I thought. They see things differently, however, and insisted that was minium if I really wanted to see and understand Egypt. My husband and children encouraged me to go as had been one of my lifetime wishes and goals.

"Come see Egypt with Egyptians," they said, "otherwise, you will have to see it as a tourists." How could I resist? Never!

As a young girl, I loved books set in far away places and loved reading about the world and especially spending time pouring over National Geographic Magazines.

National Geographic had pictures of naked women of Aftica and the Amazon...I remember being amazed that I was allowed to see these pictures, but reading, I grew to understand these were wonderful and far away places. I wanted to go. I wanted to be a White Witch Doctor. From age 12, I had my list of places I had to see and experience.

1. Hawaii

2. Egypt, the prymids and the Nile River

3. Africia, the jungle and monkeys

4. The Amazon River

5. The Great Wall of China

I wanted to boat down the Amazon..and interlace with the natives, etc...all daydreams of a little girl who loved National Geographic.
I never dreamed of what I probably should have dreamed ...to be a photographer. Those thoughts were not on a list to consider for a little girl of that time.

Now, 30 years later, I shared my trip through photos with my Dad.
And now, my father sat realizing I had made one more of my dreams come truer than he could have hoped for me...and his tears rolled.

"Why are you crying Daddy?" I asked.

Trying to stop the tears that wet his tanned, wrinkled face, he said, "I always wanted to travel, but lost my health and couldn't."

My Dad was a smoker and what he said was true. Smoking cost him 20 years of his life with the last 8years, he was tied to an oxygen tank full time.

There are so many stories within stories of that summer in my life. We will share. Do come back for more.


iJune