Written by my cousin Jeff on how life is fragile.

I had just finished a conference in Portland, Oregon and was literally about to step onto the plane to return home when I looked down at the side of the plane, with a subtle, uneasy feeling. I had a sense that something was not going to go well on the flight and before dismissing 'superstitious feelings', I considered going back to the ticket counter and asking to go on another flight. I went to my seat.

About 45 minutes after taking off, there was a commotion two rows ahead of me. I looked over the two people beside me (I had a window seat) and saw someone lieing on the floor. Calls were made to the flight attendants, the flight attendants called for oxygen, a few people rushed to see if they could help. The voice over the loudspeaker asked if there was a doctor on the plane. There was a calm and silence in the plane, while simultaneously people were rushing into action. The oxygen came, a Registered Nurse took over - blood pressure was taken, CPR was given, intravenous was hooked up as the young man's blood pressure went dangerously low, and his pulse became fainter. The three of us on my side of the row went through the fellow's bag, finding various prescriptions, ID, etc. The woman beside me quickly went back and forth from taking charge to holding her crucifix and praying. I had a sense that the man would live, but it was touch and go for more than a few uncomfortable moments. The pilot then announced that we would be making an emergency landing in Reno and that paramedics would be coming on board. He also told us that the landing would be harsh (I suppose because of how close we already were and the speed we were going), and that we would be screeching to a halt, once we were on the ground.

A moment came - one could feel it. Then, a split second later, the fellow spoke - something about another bag up in the overhead. He had come to, yet his blood pressure was dropping (102/90). Within ten minutes we. indeed, hit the ground hard. I had to lean forward and brace myself against the back of the seat in front of me, and we quickly ground to a halt. Minutes later, the paramedics came on board, asked a few questions, and carried the young fellow (23 years old) off on a stretcher. I recognized the fellow. We had sat across from each other in the waiting room; I had heard him expressing his enthusiasm to someone - about returning home to Michigan. A normal fellow, on a normal day.

As the paramedics left, a flight attendant spoke over the loudspeaker, thanking everyone for being so patient and understanding, thanking those who had helped - and the passengers broke into applause! It was heart-warming. We ended up sitting at the airport for almost three hours. The plane had to be checked to ensure that damage hadn't been done because of the way we landed. Many of us missed our connection. We have been put up for the night at a hotel in Phoenix. It's been an exhausting day, but the thing that is so amazing and inspiring is that everyone kept their cool. People spoke gently with each other and with airline officials, and the officials spoke kindly to us. We were acknowledged for the way we were, several times, and applause rang through the plane three or four times before arriving in Phoenix. Finally, as we were waiting in line to set up connections and hotel rooms, the crew emerged from the plane and was greeted with yet another round of applause. What a day! Confronted by the possibility of death, reminded of the fragility of life - no matter what one's age, and part of a group of human beings going through various inconveniences, yet expressing some of the most positive and honorable human traits. What a day! Leaves me considering how much I take for granted, and how much I shouldn't take for granted!