Okay this is my favorite...

As soon as I opened my eyes this morning, I looked out the window at the sky. A misty gray fog hung in the air and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. Fog and thunderstorms were predicted today, and I knew that last night, so I put in a call to Anita, a sweet lady I worked with for 2 years at the little Upper Main branch. Anita keeps a car off island in the Palmer Avenue lot in Falmouth and this car is my plan B on days when flying is not an option.

She assured me that of course I could use her car, just swing by Upper Main to pick up the keys on the way to the boat. "It's on the left of the lot," she told me, "the only red one on that side. When you find it, just check underneath to make sure there isn't a puddle of oil on the ground. It has a rusty oil pan, but Todd's getting it fixed in a couple of weeks. We drove it a couple weeks ago though, and it was fine." Ugh, so much for plan B. I love Anita, she doesn't have much, but she'd give you the shirt off your back if you needed it. On to plan C. I didn't know what that was yet, which is why I had that knot in my stomach on Thursday morning.

I went to work expecting a call from Angel Flight or the pilot, who's name is Bob today, and when none came by 10 am I called them. Laura told me she would check with Bob and have him call me, and he did about 5 minutes later. "It's clearing up," he assured me, "but rain is expected sometime this afternoon. I have a patient from Nantucket who HAS to be in Boston by 1 o'clock today, so if it's alright, I'll pick you up early, around noontime if that's okay." Of course it was.

Bob is young, I'm guessing in his early 30's with heat-miser fire-red hair and beard. He's chatty, and friendly, and his plane is minuscule. I'm sitting up front today, and he hops in and hands me the headphones so we can talk all the way to Hyannis. I already know at this point that he's married and has a couple of kids who come with him sometimes if it's summer or they have school vacation.

It's cloudy, but the fog has lifted somewhat and there is some blue in the sky. The ride is surprisingly smooth, and Bob explains that it's the clouds that keep the ride smooth because they hold down the heat from the ground that causes the bumps. Huh. We got to the airport in about 15 minutes and I'm early, about 2 hours early. I thank Bob and say goodbye, because the shuttle is waiting for me outside.

When I get to Mugar, I figured I'd see if I could get in early today, and they tell me to go ahead and put a gown on and have a seat, they know I'm here. I picked up People magazine and about 40 minutes later, after doing the entire ridiculously easy crossword puzzle, finally my name was called.

After, I stepped outside to an even clearer sky than this morning, and was starving,and since it was still early, I figured I'd have time to grab a sandwich before I took the shuttle back to Griffin.

( I realize this is getting boring. Be patient, it gets better)

I got back to Griffin at about 3 o'clock and got a phone call from Laura at Angel Flight. Apparently Joe Marino, the pilot scheduled to bring me back this afternoon is having plane trouble, but Bob has volunteered to bring you home. The bad news is, he can't get there until 4:30. I looked up at the sky. The clouds were getting bigger and a lot closer together. I read two entire issues of People magazine (why is that magazine ALWAYS in waiting rooms?) and at around 4:20 I watched Bob's little plane land. He apologized for the time and for needing to refuel, I was just thankful that I'd be able to get home. At around 5pm we finally got in the plane, and I watched about 4 planes take off and quickly disappear into what now had turned back into fog. I was nervous, but Bob reassured me that when you're from New England you get used to flying in these conditions. With the headphones on I could hear air traffic control giving Bob directions. "Seven seven Papa maintain altitude and take a left." Take a left? What kind of radio speak was that? We were above the clouds and fog, and I had to grab my sunglasses out of my bag, and where the Vineyard should have been, was just fluffy, white cotton. Air traffic control was telling Bob to circle around the Vineyard, kind of taking the long way home. I think what was going on was that they were waiting for an opening in the haze. Finally we were approaching the runway, and Bob started to count down the altitude because we were descending, and IN the fog, and NOTHING was visible. Nothing. I kept thinking, we're going to hit a house, or another plane up here. I shut my eyes and took deep breaths and tried to pretend I was on a bus, going downhill, perfectly safe. suddenly, we were going uphill again and I looked at Bob and he was shaking his head saying, "Well, Chris, no runway." What? He must have seen my confusion because he quickly added, "Where I should have seen the runway it was fogged in, so I'm going to try again. But you need to think about what you want to do if I can't land today. We can go back to Hyannis if you want. But don't worry, okay, we have 5 and a half hours of fuel" Okay, if I go to Hyannis, I can get a hotel room and spend the night, and just hang out until my appointment tomorrow. That would mean missing more work time, and wearing dirty clothes. I could go to New Bedford and stay at Aunty Lolly's. Is she even home? Do I have her phone number? How about Falmouth? Is there even an airport in Falmouth? "Hey Bob, how about Falmouth?" "I can get you to Falmouth," he answered. That answers that question.

Again we started descent into the fog. This time Bob said to me, "Do me a favor and keep looking ahead and tell me if you see runway lights." "Sure, Bob, but if I puke in your lap, you have no one to blame but yourself." He smiled and shook his head. I was looking, not seeing anything but grayish-white all around. He was again counting down altitude, I was looking, not seeing, and still looking, and my stomach was getting closer and closer to my throat, and I finally leaned back in my seat and started talking, in my head, to my mother. "Mum, if you can hear me now, I need some help here. Is there anyone up there who could arrange to land this thing, just to make a little hole in the fog, just for half a minute so I can get home?" I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I opened them up to see just the gray-white, but seconds later, the fog opened up and the runway was directly in front of us. Thanks Mom.

Bob was exhilarated. I was exhausted. He was chatting excitedly, he must have been proud of himself, he should be. I heard him say, "...and a pocket opened up at EXACTLY the right time, it was incredible."

I thanked Bob for keeping me alive and walked across the parking lot to my car, praying, thanking God, and Mom.


Ugh, that day was incredible! I remember having to sit in my car for about 10 minutes waiting for my heart to stop pounding in my ears. I have to admit, I had a little crush on Bob after that day, like one of those super-hero crushes, like after you watch the Spiderman movies and you wish for a minute that you were Mary Jane Watson.