A Chance Encounter in Row 25
As a general rule, I don't strike up conversations with fellow passengers on any of my business trips, because I'm usually working during the flight. However, during my last trip from Virginia to San Francisco, a chance encounter in row 25 of Virgin America flight #468 had a significant impact on my life.
Upon taking my seat near the back of the aircraft, I said "hi" to the young woman already settled into the seat next to me. By the time we took off, she had already revealed that she was 23 years old, recently single out of an oppressive relationship, and on a one-way ticket to California to "find herself" and start a new life. Two of her friends had recently moved to San Francisco, and they would help her get back on her feet.
There was something intriguing about Amanda. She was certainly bright, lively, creative, and full of life, but there was something else. Perhaps her journey seeking self-discovery reminded me of my own trip to Mexico when I was 26 and about to start law school? Perhaps I now wanted to live vicariously through her since I knew that my various obligations would make another such journey impossible for me? Or perhaps I felt like I was glimpsing into my own future, since my daughter is already "9 going on 16"?
Whatever it was, we spent the entire flight "hanging out." We talked. We played video games on the Virgin America seat-back entertainment system. We even had a couple of drinks when we passed Chicago, since she had never been further West.
After a five-hour flight we began our descent into SFO, and she was glued to the window taking in every view. When our wheels skidded on the tarmac, I whispered to her, "Amanda, welcome to your new life." Almost immediately, she was sobbing, "You're right. This IS my new life." I think that the enormity of the moment finally caught up her, and she was overcome by the joy of her new-found freedom and by the dread of her unknown future.
Since it was on my way to the rental car pickup, I walked her to the baggage claim and wished her luck when we said our good-byes. As we parted ways I knew that I would never see her again. However, I also knew that from that day forward every time I sat down next to someone on an airplane I would think of her and wonder how her life turned out. In my own personal version of VH1's "What Ever Happened To ... ?", I will continue to wish her well.
1 comment:
You should have got her email. I could have passed it on to my brother who says there are no good chicks in SF (a bitter exaggeration in my opinion.)
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