Location: TransAtlantic at 36,000 feet - Orlando, Florida
Summary: A flight to a new life in America takes an unexpected turn with a moment of panic and a mysterious connection.
In 1996, I left the UK and moved to Orlando, Florida. I had taken a redundancy package from British Gas that would help me start a new life in America. This story is about what happened on my flight to Florida.
The week before my 29th birthday, I had a going-away party at the Hill Park Memorial Working Men's Club in Fareham, where I lived. Many of my extended family drove down from London to celebrate, and even more came to make sure I was really leaving for America the following week. My sister couldn’t make it as she had a prior engagement, but we had a great night. I remember a local cockle man bringing in enough jellied eels to feed the five thousand, none of my family liked them, but my mate Les loved them.
The Journey
On my actual birthday, the 23rd of January, my mum and dad drove me to the airport. Mum was distraught, crying her eyes out because her baby was leaving to live in America, but she didn’t want to hang around at the airport to see me off. I was secretly pleased, it meant I could get to the departure lounge and enjoy a full English breakfast before catching my early flight to Orlando. I waved goodbye and thought nothing of their quick departure.
After boarding my British Airways flight and settling into my seat, we soon took off. I watched a film on the onboard screen, and as it finished somewhere over the Atlantic, I decided to get a drink. While waiting for the air hostess, I suddenly felt sick and shivered. I wasn’t nauseous, just suddenly nervous, the blood drained from my face, and my hands and body began to shake. I had palpitations, was sweating, and had a pounding headache. The air hostess noticed I didn’t look well and asked if I was okay. I told her I didn’t know and asked for a glass of water. She quickly returned with another hostess and the water.
I drank it and asked for another, saying I thought I’d be fine. One hostess stayed with me until the colour returned to my face. I explained that I was leaving the UK to live in America, and she suggested it might just be nerves. For some reason, I looked at my watch, I couldn’t stop thinking about my sister Karen. The rest of the flight passed quickly, and I felt fine again.
Orlando Arrival & A Phone Call
When I arrived in Orlando, I cleared customs and immigration quickly, picked up my hire car, and drove straight to my home in Meadow Woods, BVL. It was late in England, but I had promised to call my mum once I arrived safely. When she answered, she sounded okay, but when I asked what was wrong with my sister, she burst into tears and handed the phone to my dad.
Dad asked how the flight went, but I pressed him about Karen. I told him about my panic attack and even mentioned the exact time it happened. He paused, fighting back tears, then told me that at that precise time, my sister had been going into theatre for a serious operation. Mum came back on the phone, and I told her how I’d looked at my watch mid-flight, knowing something was wrong. She confirmed the story.
It turned out Karen had known about the operation for a while but forbade Mum and Dad from telling me, afraid it might stop me from going to America. She knew how long I’d planned this move and didn’t want to give me a reason to stay. Thankfully, she came through the operation safely.
I couldn’t have done anything for her that day, but I could have been there, as she had been for me so many times before. It seems the connection between us is strong. I knew from halfway across the Atlantic that something was wrong, even though I had no idea about her operation.
My sister loved me enough not to risk me staying behind to continue pestering her as only a little brother can. I love you, Karen. Call me anytime you need me.
Add comment