Fasten Your Seatbelts: A Flight Attendant's Adventures 36,000 Feet and Below (36 page)

TTS. Post Traumatic Turbulence Syndrome. There really isn’t such a disorder, but there should be. I have experienced many severe turbulence events which has deeply affected me.

In April of 2009, we started our flight from Miami to Houston with good weather. About an hour and a half remained of the flight when the captain called back and said there were indications from planes ahead of us that we were going to be in for quite a ride. He asked us to go ahead and put everything away and lock up the galley.

We were flying on a 737 aircraft. The tail of a 737 is known to zigzag a bit especially during turbulence. Andrea and I took our jumpseats early because the light turbulence turned to moderate chop. We continued to read our magazines, the airplane jolting us from side to side now and then as we read.

We received another call from the captain with about forty-five minutes to land. “Take your seats immediately,” he commanded. We notified him we were already strapped into our jumpseats. The tone in his voice scared me.

Suddenly the aircraft began to thrash about. The plane dipped and tipped from side to side. Luckily, our jumpseats on this airplane are away from the view of passengers. Andrea and I looked at each other with fear in our eyes.

We went straight to severe turbulence. I grabbed the base of my jumpseat with my hands as it lifted from its brackets. With a thud, the jumpseat fell back into place. Usually in turbulence there are periods of calm in between jolts. Not this time. It continued on and on. Suddenly, the airplane just dropped (I don’t know how many feet.) The 200-pound locked beverage carts simultaneously lifted into midair. When the pilot regained control, the carts came down in unison with a CLA-CLANG!

My hands still clutching the seat beneath me were now wet with perspiration. Again, the airplane dropped and the passengers screamed. I wanted to also. All we could do was sit there and take it.

The prayers flowed freely. “Please God; put your protective angels around the airplane.” Again, another prayer, “Please calm the skies ahead.” And yet another prayer, “Please forgive me of all my sins (especially the Rio de Janeiro days).” This
was the first time in my career I thought we were going to crash due to turbulence.

As we got closer to Houston, rain pounded the aircraft and wind continued to jostle us about. One particular jolt popped open an overhead bin. It was within my viewing area, but there was no way I could stand up to close it. A passenger sitting below managed to reach up above his head to slam it shut.
Whew, thank God
. All we needed was luggage flying around.

A waft of vomit permeated the cabin. I couldn’t look at Andrea because I was so full of fear. We were too afraid to speak. All I could do was close my eyes and pray to make the turbulence go away.

Finally, we heard the landing gear lower. The plane was still violently jerking us about. “Please help us God,” my prayer continued. The wings were still going from side to side when we landed. The wheels touched not once, but twice. I let out a huge sigh of relief.

As passengers were deplaning, I could see that the turbulence had taken its toll on them as well. I told them there would be no extra charge for the roller coaster ride. They all laughed but we all knew how lucky we were to be safely on the ground. Three beautiful, young ladies were traveling together. I heard one of them say, “At least we would have gone down together.” Everyone was pretty shaken, including the two of us.

When we were on the van taking us to the hotel, I asked the captain what happened. He said the radar was completely red. There were no indicators to locate where the air pockets or cells were; “We just had to weather it,” he said. The first officer said absolutely nothing and sat with a look of exhaustion on his face.

While still parked at the airport terminal, horns began to honk as traffic came to a halt. Our van driver was getting pretty angry, throwing his hands up in the air. I looked out the window and saw that our storm had now engulfed the airport. The driver said there were tornadoes spotted in the area.
We were flying through tornadoes! No wonder!

We saw some activity ahead and traffic began to creep forward. Some barricades had been blown over by the wind, blocking the exit out of the airport. I shook my head in disbelief that we had just flown through that weather.

Throughout the year it seemed as though we were flying through storms every month. After a while, I started to become a nervous flier. At the first sign of turbulence, I immediately headed straight for my jumpseat and strapped in. Even if it was moderate chop, my hands would perspire.

Then it hit, Christmas Eve, 2009. Chicago to Austin. The captain, on each flight, is required to give a briefing to the number one flight attendant. On this particular flight, he requested that all of us attend. “Austin is reporting heavy storms and high
winds today. I am going to have you take your seats a little early.”
Uh oh, that’s all I need!

Later on in the flight, the captain was true to his words. Ding! Ding! “Okay you guys, we are starting our descent into Austin. Put everything away and take your seats after preparing the cabin for landing.”

Before I was able to sit down, the plane went into severe turbulence. I quickly closed up my galley and carefully made my way to the jumpseat grabbing each passenger’s headrest to maintain my balance. I plopped into my jumpseat and strapped on the harness. I was being whipped and tossed about as though I was riding a bucking bull in a rodeo.
“Good Lord,”
I murmured.
“Please make it stop.”
But it didn’t.

I wanted control — any control. Instinctively, my feet hit the floor as if I were trying to slam on the brakes. I flattened my hands against the walls surrounding the jumpseat to try and brace myself.

The plane dropped (along with my stomach) then slowly regained altitude. I felt as though I could throw up. (I have never been sick on an airplane.) Luckily, I was the galley flight attendant on a Super-80 aircraft, which meant no one could see me. The other flight attendant sat facing me about five rows up. She kept looking at me for some kind of reassurance; I had none to offer.

Hearing the landing gear lower was a welcome sound at this point. The plane jolted back and forth. I knew we would be touching down soon, but the wind shear was severe.

Hoping the flight would end soon, my heart sank when I heard the engines fire up to full throttle as the captain aborted the landing. Secretly, I wished we could land somewhere else, but all we did was circle around in the strong wind. Usually when this happens, the captain will make an announcement as to why the airplane is maneuvering. On this day, however, I think he was too busy flying to make any announcement.

I tried unsuccessfully to control my fear. I took two slow, even breaths to calm me down, which helped some. Finally, I heard the landing gear lower again.
Steady boys, bring`er in
.

I looked at Samantha on the other jumpseat. She was in full view of passengers, her eyes wide open and easily readable.
What the heck is going on? Why aren’t we landing?
She glanced out the window and then to me. We were tossed about until the wheels actually touched the ground. Even after contact with the runway, the fuselage dipped one last time.

After everyone deplaned, the captain told the number one flight attendant that was the most difficult landing of his entire career. A flight later that afternoon, also traveling from Chicago to Austin, actually hit the wing on the runway because of the
high winds. The FAA was on the news saying they were going to do further investigation as to why it happened.

On a flight the following year, my good friend Donna and I, were given the command to take our seats immediately. We had just completed our beverage service and didn’t have time to lock down the galley cabinet doors. Just after we strapped in, the plane dropped hundreds of feet. The unsecured inserts filled with juice, milk and cans of soda flew out of the shelves. Some of the soda cans exploded as they hit the floor. One of them landed squarely on my toe causing me to yelp in pain. I braced my hands against the galley counter and injured my right thumb. Customer call buttons chimed, alerting us to the chaos in the cabin. All of their beverages hit the ceiling. The cabin looked like a war zone littered with ice, cups, cans and trash. Everyone was wearing whatever they were drinking. And just like that it was over… The plane was a wreck and I felt the same.

A few years have passed since these events luckily with no further incidents of severe turbulence. I feel somewhat back to normal. I wear the seatbelt when I can and always quickly heed the captains warning to take my seat and fasten my seatbelt. Take it from me, you should too or you might be the next PTTS sufferer.

have been flying for over twenty-five years now. There have been thousands of flights and thousands upon thousands of interactions with every class, nationality, race and religion of people on this planet. That opportunity has taught me some valuable lessons, some of which I have shared already. I can’t share every moment however this is what I can tell you: