A bunch of strangers got an airplane today, and they never got off. Airplane disasters are a logical outcome in a mechanized age where people fly in heavier than air machines that depend on motors to keep them aloft. The only problem with mechanical objects is that they imperfect as are all machines. They (the machines) must fight wear and tear, friction, and stress, and eventually, they always lose. A cargo door blows off an airliner over Hawaii, a landing gear won’t come down in Cleveland, wires in a 747 corrode and bring it down in the Atlantic. I fly a few thousand miles a year, always trusting the engineers and mechanics who designed and built those planes, always trusting that they are being maintained properly. We all fly like that, and the specter of tragedy is always sitting in the coach section with us. Usually nothing happens, but today, for 153 people (and that number may grow) something did happen. The tragedy came to visit them and their families. I hope that the end was quick, that the surprise was short-lived, that the pain was minimal. Fear is a horrible thing, perhaps even worse than death itself. I am profoundly sad by what has happened. The Spanish people are again touched by tragedy and August 20 will be a black day on the calendars of many families. Something failed: a bolt, a wire, a seal, a gasket, a screw. Today is a “dark night of the soul” a phrase coined, naturally, by a Spaniard, a people who know only too well the dark nature of personal tragedy. May the victims of flight JK 5022 find the peace that goes way beyond our humble understanding.
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