We all (brothers, sister, parents) decided to spend Christmas together at the home of my brother, Frank, in Redding and my sister, Karen, in Susanville. We would split our time between both homes and have ourselves a beautiful, northern California Christmas with snow and the whole package. Good-bye warm Phoenix; Hello chilly Northern California.

Two days before Christmas, my husband and I, along with our two, teen-aged daughters, Janet and Katie, headed to Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix. So far, so good, but when we landed in San Jose, it was pouring rain.

As we boarded the plane I could tell the flight attendants were in a very bad mood, as evidenced by their scowls and their somewhat disheveled looks. Let’s just say there were not a lot of “Welcome Aboards.” I believe they had already experienced some trying travel, but it was only to get worse. Maybe they knew that.

The flight was taking off late because of some weather problems — a major understatement. As we boarded we learned that we would not be able to sit together as a family and were scattered all around the plane. I was somewhat upset by this. If we were going to crash, as I always fully expect, it would be nicer to die together, don’t you think?

Shortly after takeoff, we hit some turbulence — turbulence as I’d never experienced it with stomach-in-your-throat drops into air pockets, shaking, lightening, thunder and rolling back and forth. I clutched the arm rests, worried that if I didn’t sit completely still, I would be responsible for the plane doing a complete roll over. Yes, if the plane did crash, it would be MY fault.

The little bags started coming out — you know the ones I mean — including those of the women on either side of me. It became deathly quiet. I tried to soothe the women, telling them it would soon be over, perhaps not the best choice of words.

Even with the women on either side of me, gagging away, I did not succumb to air sickness.

I looked back at my daughters. Katie, the younger one, and fifteen at that time was laughing and really enjoying the roller coaster ride. Her older and wiser sister, Janet, was clutching her arm rests, just like Mom.

My husband was sitting next to a woman traveling with a cat. He turned out to be the unluckiest of all of us.

Soon the odor of vomit permeated the air.

Still, I did not succumb.

Then a new, and I’m sorry to say, not pleasant odor wafted throughout the plane. It was unidentifiable. I only know that it was not air freshener and that it was like nothing I had ever smelled before.

The cat, traveling with her owner, in a cage under her owner’s seat which was, as you may recall, the seat next to my husband’s, had apparently also noticed the turbulence, and felt a strong need, as many of us did, to evacuate her bowels… and she did. Or, as I like to put it, the cat shat.

Still, I did not succumb.

It was announced that because of weather, we would be diverted from Reno to Sacramento. More decisions would be made at that time.

We landed in Sacramento, and a not very nice man boarded the plane wearing what looked like a pilot’s uniform. I’m sure the crabby flight attendants had recruited him. They weren’t speaking to us.

We were told that if we got OFF the plane in Sacramento, nothing would be done to help us find our way to our final destination — Reno — and we were “ON OUR OWN.” That is a quote. If we stayed with the airline, a few options might be offered us, as we SAT on the reeking plane.

Someone I did not immediately recognize as myself, rose from her seat and yelled out: “WE ARE GETTING OFF THIS BLEEPING PLANE,” and I don’t give a damn if you help me or not.

My family recognized this as one of my brighter moments and ran forward to join me.
Almost immediately the other passengers jumped up to join us in our exodus, including the lady with the cat.

I made my way to the terminal, hoping for some semi-fresh air and relief. But when I entered the bathroom, there was the lady with the cat, taking her out of her cage and wiping her down.

At last, I’m sorry to say: I succumbed.

The End