Basic HTML Version
Campus Review
November 13, 2013
Page 10
It was Supposed to be Early
by Ali Dadpay
(NOTE: Clayton State University
Assistant Dean, Director of the MBA pro-
gram, and Assistant Professor of
Economics Dr. Ali Dadpay was a passen-
ger on the Spirit Airlines Flight 165 from
Dallas to Atlanta that lost one engine and
had to make an emergency landing in
back at the Dallas-Fort-Worth Airport.
This is his story.)
The pilot’s voice comes from the intercom
- We are going to be arriving early in
Atlanta.
Then Spirit Airlines Flight 165 begins.
The Airbus 319 departs from the gate,
starts to taxi toward the runway. The sky
over the Dallas-Fort Worth area is grey;
clouds are hanging close to the ground. It
is drizzling. I smell something like burned
grease. The aircraft is moving. It reaches
the runway, the engines roar and airplane
takes off. I look from the window,
autumn grass covers the earth, and we are
getting farther and farther from green
misty patches of land. When I will be see-
ing Dallas again? I stretched my legs. An
African-American man and his son are
sitting next to me.
The engines make a sharp noise. The air-
plane passes 10,000 feet.
- We are airborne, feel free to use your
electronic devices in airplane mode.
I grab my iPhone to play Angry Birds,
something I am addicted to these days.
Then I might work on my article.
Everything seems to be normal. I feel
some commotion from the right side of
cabin.
- Captain is aware of some noise in the
airplane and is trying to take control of
situation.
What situation? What is going on?
Passengers start to talk; the airplane is
shaking a little bit. All of sudden the air
conditioning releases a huge volume of
smoke. It is steam, it does not smell.
- Oh! My God!
Someone cries. Someone screams.
- What is going on?
Now the airplane is shaking even more.
- We do not know what is happening; the
captain is trying to control the airplane.
Now more people scream. Two black
women are holding hands and praying. An
Eastern European-looking girl sitting on
the next row begins to cry. She crosses
herself
- Mama!
The airplane is shaking even harder.
People are getting worried.
- We do not know what is happening,
please remain seated and fasten your seat
belts.
I look outside the window. All I can see is
gray sky, clouds are everywhere. What is
happening? Are we descending? No, it
does not feel like it. What will happen
now? I look around myself. We are in the
middle of the sky; there is nothing to hold
on to. Is this it? I am 38 years and 10
months old. My life flashes in front of my
eyes: My mother, my family, things that I
did not do, things that I have done, all
together. If it ends now, how I will be
remembered? Before boarding I had sent
an article on the state of Iran’s aviation
industry to my editor; that will be my last
note.
- So little, so unnoticeable
I think.
People might leave notes on my Facebook
wall. Who will tell my mom? What will
happen to my affects? I remember I do not
have a living will! I have done nothing;
this is not how I want it to end. I think of
my days. How useless they have been!
What I have accomplished by coming to
Dallas? Was it worth it? Was it worth it to
die in an airplane crash? All things seem
to be hollow. They do not matter now.
What I have done seems meaningless. The
fact is I might die. It is very probable.
That is the only thing that matters. I start
to pray. The man next to me is very calm;
he looks at me and stretches his hand.
- What is your name?
- Ali, what is yours?
- Jervis
- Where are you from?
- Ethiopia, and you?
- Iran
We shake hands. He is calm, his son
begins to cry. I talk.
- Do not worry, it will be all right.
The airplane is shaking, now people are
crying. Flight attendants are walking up
and down the aisle, calming people. It all
seems to be pointless. It is so sudden that
it can be surreal. I remember how I missed
my first flight to Dallas and got a ticket
using my miles. Then I remember how I
was told that my return reservation for
this flight was canceled. I had to argue
with the station manager to have a board-
ing pass. Now everything seems very stu-
pid. I should not have insisted. I start to
pray. Even praying seems pointless, but I
have to pray. This is what one does in such
a situation. I pray.
- Lord, please save us.
Then I think of dying, of meeting God
face to face. I am a Muslim. They say
after death in the first night the first ques-
tion is about prayers. Did I pay enough
attention to them or I miss them? Well, I
missed them most of the time. I pray in
the mornings, often after the sunrise. I
usually do not do noon, afternoon, sunset
and evening prayers. Then they would ask
the second question: How I treated my
parents? I left them. I left Iran; I came to
the states to be somebody. I feel like
nobody. I think of my mom.
- Lord please, I do not want to leave her
alone.
I have left her alone. I call her every day.
Still it is not like I am there to take care of
her. She is alone. I am alone. Now I am
asking God to have mercy on me because
of her. It is surreal. I feel like nobody. I
have been wasting this life. Did I leave
my parents to die in an airplane crash?
What I am doing here? What I am achiev-
ing here? A life of what? I think next time
I will drive, driving is much safer. When
we land I should get a car. I look at Jervis.
- How about we rent a car when this is
over?
- I was thinking about exactly that!
- We could share the drive and the fuel.
Flight 165, cont’d., p. 11